Monday, November 07, 2005

Door to door salesmen stories . . . the antholoblog

You know that story you have about door to door salespeople or telemarketers? Well, now you can add it to Dru's collection.

Here was my input, because I am currently very very bored.

Alright, stories about people who knock on our door . . . My parents live out in the sticks, around Duncan, BC. To many people, Duncan will also be the sticks. We don't really get that many people going door to door, and I don't actually have stories about them being irritating . . . We find them mildly entertaining, as they break up the monotony. Usually we are the ones that harass them . . . My dad enjoys letting in the occasional perky vacuum salesperson so he can ask her inane or nearly impossible questions. He only lets them in after he insists that he won't buy their products, and of course they come in anyways. I guess most people are less welcoming, or they get overly hot or cold lugging their vacuums around outside in all weathers.

The one time dad topped that was when he glanced out the front window, and said "Someone's about to knock, you get it. It's one of your friends from your (at the time, junior high) class". I bounded down the stairs and threw the door wide, a big grin on my face. The two polyester-suited Jehovah's witnesses on the doorstep though that I looked like ripe for conversion. . . And because one of them was a young guy being taught how to save souls, and seemed very earnest and hopeful as his mentor coached him along, I didn't have the heart to be rude (Canadian, you know). Every polite excuse was cunningly yet politely countered, and I barely escaped without a magazine with articles suited for young people . . . one about ear piercing and tattoos. I almost wish I took it - I have wondered more than a few times how that article read.

A better story would be about telemarketers . . . I have one redneck friend who is so naturally offensive that he managed to make one hang up on him. He let her talk for a while (he also lives near Duncan, must have been the boredom) and argued a bit. When she asked him "Is there anything I could do to interest you in our home insurance plan?" he instantly answered "Are you blonde, about three feet tall, with no teeth and a flat head?"

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