We were waiting for the pizza delivery guy because it’s Friday and Friday is pizza night. It was Skyler’s night to give the pizza guy the check, but she was downstairs trying to convince Dad to paint with her. So I grabbed the check and went to the door.
But then I noticed the guy didn’t have pizza in his hands. Instead he had a bottle of Joy dish soap and Spic and Span floor cleaning stuff. He said they were starting a new business in town and they wanted to go around to the neighborhoods and show off their product. Then he handed me the Spic and Span and Joy. I’m all like, “Ok?!?” But I just ran out of floor cleaner and my kitchen floor needs a little mop work, so I took it.
Then he said, “Hold on a second. I need to get something.” And he ran out to his van. A van that looked so old I’m pretty sure the rust had rust on it. Plus I think I saw that van on an episode of That 70s Show. As he walked back to the house with a big box in his hands I calculated the time it would take me to reach the phone to dial 911 and how many extra steps I would need to get to the steak knives in case I needed them for protection.
But as we came through the door I realized the box was a Kirby vacuum cleaner. Here we go again.
We had a Kirby salesman come to our house a few years back. But at least that guy made an appointment. These people today just barged their way in to my house. I was pretty ticked off, but I remained calm. After all I got some Joy and some Spic and Span and I was about to get somebody to vacuum my living room for free. I had plans to go out to dinner with my mom, but she wouldn’t be over for at least a half hour. So I made myself comfy on the couch and watched this guy vacuum. Too bad he wasn’t hunky.
The guy who originally came to my door was the supervisor and he brought some kid [by kid I mean he was in his twenties, cause now that I'm in my thirties I can call a 20-something year old a kid] with him to actually do the demonstration. And by brought him I mean he left him there and then drove off in the 1972 rusted out van. Um, ok. 2.3 seconds to the phone. Seven steps to the knives.
As this young kid was putting the vacuum together he asked me if I’d ever heard of Kirby. I said, “Yeah, we had a salesman show it to us a few years back. But were getting ready to replace this carpet with hardwood floors so we don’t really have a need for one. Plus they’re a bit out of my price range.”
But like a good little salesman, he just ignored me and began to vacuum my living room while I sat on the couch and watched him. I wish I would of had some bon bons or something. And maybe a couple of his helpers to fan with me giant straw fans.
He went on and on about how there are dust mites in the carpet and when we sleep at night dust mites get in our mouth. All I heard was blah, blah, blah because I watch enough Dateline to know all about what lingers in my dust. Plus I’m fully aware these vacuums cost almost more than my minivan and there was no way in hell I was going to buy one.
Just after he cleaned my ceiling fan my mom showed up.
My slave The Kirby guy started to say something, but I had to cut him off. As much as I enjoyed watching him clean my house [I wish he would have brought some Pledge and maybe some Windex for the windows], his time was up. I said, “I hate to cut you short…” cause in situations like this it’s ok to tell a little white lie, “but I have dinner plans so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
He was really nice about it. He used the phone to call his supervisor to come back and get him. Obviously the person on the other end of the phone was none to pleased that this dude was calling him when he’d only been at my house for about 30 minutes. Clearly not long enough to make a sale. But this sales guy kept his cool. I started to feel a little bad for him and thought seriously about slipping a $5 bill in his pocket so he could at least buy a sandwich. But I got over that.
While we waited for his ride I let him vacuum Justis’ mattress. Might as well get some more cleaning out of him while we were hanging out.
After a few minutes, one of his buddies showed up [not the guy who brought him in the first place]. The new guy said, “Do you have a question?” I said, “No actually I’m kicking him out because I have plans.” Although I said it nice and with a smile on my face, what I really meant was, “help him pack this shit up and get the hell out of my house.”
They quickly got their stuff together. My sales guy gave me his business card.
And then it got really strange.
My sales guy was a nice kid. Just trying to do his job and put food on his plate. But one of the guys that came with him was, umm….how do I say this nicely…weird. He saw our cats and then went on and on about how he’s a cat person and his cat once scratch the face of his neighbor’s dog and now the dog never comes around anymore. I tried to be nice, but I was having this conversation on an empty stomach and I get cranky when I’m hungry.
Then Weirdo saw a Dungeons and Dragons novel laying on the floor. It’s not a handbook for the game or anything. It’s just a fantasy novel based on Dungeons and Dragons. “Are you a Dungeons and Dragons fan,” he asked. I said, “My boys read them.” To me that meant, “No, I don’t know jack shit about D&D.” Apparently to him that meant it was an invitation for him to tell me all about his freaky obsession with D&D.
He proceeded to tell me about how he has the second edition of some handbook and a first edition of another. I’m pretty sure my face said “Who gives a shit?” but this guy isn’t fluent in face. He went on about how he has some dark handbook which apparently is really hard to get. And with it he made his character a something vampire and it was “like impossible to kill.” And also in the book there is some dagger or something but it can only be used by the pure of heart.
Again, all I heard was “blah, blah, blah.” I hope I don’t offend any D&D fans, but I couldn’t care less about D&D. I was talking to him like I talk to my kids when they are telling me about Pokemon cards or some PS2 game their playing; a lot of head nodding and “oh, that’s cool” with little enthusiasm.
My sales man kept trying to interrupt Weirdo. He was, after all, still holding out for a possible sale here. I think he was a little worried that Weirdo was killing his chances. Finally he pushed him out the door and they piled in to their rusted out van. Just before they left my salesman hollered, “when am I going to get you to buy a Kirby?” I said, “I have your card. Thanks.” Because that seemed more polite then, “it will be a cold day in hell before I buy a $2000 vacuum.”