Friday, July 23, 2010

Talking With Salesmen

"Logan, there's a man in our living room cleaning our carpet.  He's here selling a vacuum cleaner.  I've done told him that we weren't interested, but he insisted on cleaning and shampooing our carpet for free.  He wants to talk with you cause he gets paid more if he can talk to both of us.  He said he'd still be here when you get home."

This about sums up the short phone call I got from Keisha yesterday afternoon at around 4pm, a good hour before I got off work.  We had been planning on getting our living room shampooed anyway, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity, especially considering the cost of $0.  Then she ended the conversation like this.  "Anyway, it's your job to get rid of him."

Now I usually try to give salespeople my time.  I figure most people are jerks and rude, and I'm not most people.  I'm a patient guy.  Pretty much I'll always let you do your spiel, figuring hey, it's your job.  So I got home and the guy introduced himself as Arthur.  He said I probably had things to do and would be quick.  I told him that yes, I did in fact have somewhere to be ASAP, thank you for your expediency, let's get this show on the road.

Arthur showed me the great and terrible power of the Kirby vacuum.  Like a terrible vortex of doom, no carpet was safe from the Kirby.  He talked as he cleaned my living room floor, showing me all the dirt and dust that lived beneath my relatively new carpet.  The man was smooth and suave.  And as time ticked by, I found myself growing a bit more impatient.  Me and Alex had planned on disc golfing at 5:30ish and the man already knew we weren't going to buy the machine.  Still, I held my tongue.

Then he called his boss and said she'd be over to talk with me about financing opportunities.  So in she came, dressed nowhere near as professionally as Arthur, which kind of made me skeptical.  Why was Arthur in slacks and a shirt and tie and this lady in a tank-top and jeans?  And why was she here in the first place when Arthur knew we weren't going to buy one?  Granted, the vacuum was quite amazing in its vacuuming abilities, but the $3200 price tag was enough to make me gasp aloud and clutch my heart, feigning cardiac arrest at the mere site of such numbers.  She made a few offers, all of which I shot down.  We have a budget, I said.  We just bought a brand new washer and dryer last week, I said.  We're trying to get out of debt, not rack up more, I said.  She, apparently, found it aggravating that I wasn't jumping on the remarkable deal.

Finally, after a time, I convinced them I wasn't going to buy the amazing sucking machine.  I know I'm a fool for knowingly living in a house that can contain all these allergens and hidden dirt-things, but I'm a fool, what can I say?  And the fact that the Kirby can convert into 15 machines, including a paint sprayer and a bed cleaner?  Bah!  They had all their stuff packed away and my living room carpets looked very nice, saving me a hundred dollars or so in shampooing costs, but were they done yet?  No.

They had to wait on somebody to come and pick them up.  Being the kind and hospitable type that I am, I offered them some lemonade and a seat.  I surely wasn't going to ask them to wait out in the 100 degree heat so I could leave and go play disc golf.  We sat around and idly talked about nothing, with every minute or so the salesfolk trying to get me to change my mind.  This only got more aggravating as time went on.  It seemed to me that they were getting frustrated at my refusals, too.

By the time they left, at a little after 7pm, I was ready to stab myself in the head with a trident.  (Not that I have tridents just laying around.  Those things are dangerous.)  We were horribly late, but still we went and played.  In the dwindling light I wound up losing a disc and we only managed to play 6 holes before we left. 

Turns out the vacuum folks spent almost four hours at Stewartland yesterday, from the initial doorbell ring-a-ling to the same door closing on their way out.  Granted, I did get my living room cleaned quite nicely, saving me money, but on the other hand, I lost a nice disc and didn't get to play very long.  I can't decide whether I made out good or not...

4 comments:

Stephanie Fey said...

But what a life though, Logan! Wandering from one door to another with a carpet cleaner when you know that no-one wants you there. That's some psychology! In life, there are plenty of people who don't want anything to do with you, so why go seeking them out? Amazing!

David Wagner said...

What a bummer. I hate pushy people like that. You have infinite patience, my friend...

Brandon said...

Logan, you are a great guy. After reading this post, my respect for you tripled.

I'm the same way, I feel...the need...to listen to a salesmen, and treat them kindly.

But here, you went above and beyond my friend :)
For some reason, my mind keeps traveling to that verse in the gospels where the believers in heaven ask God, (paraphrase)"when did we feed you, or give you a drink, or clothe you?"

To you the messiah might say...remember that vacuum salesmen...

:)

logankstewart said...

@Steph: Indeed, I thought the door-to-door vacuum salesman went out with the 1950s, but apparently not. I just hope the guy made some money for his work.

@Dave: Yeah, I'll be nice, patient, and easy to please, but I won't be taken advantage of nor will I be ran over. But I do take pride in my patience.

@Brandon: Thanks a lot, friend. I didn't think about the giving food and drink verse, but now that you mentioned it, maybe Christ will bring it up...;) Thanks again for the kind words.