Door to door salesmen

Oct 27, 2008 19:05

So I have Kindergarten Plague (a type of cold or strain of flu from every child in the class) and as such was home sick today. I was laying in a half- asleep Vicks induced haze on the couch, the TV on low in the background, when I was roused by an urgent-sounding repeated ringing of the doorbell.
I roll off the couch, hit the floor, get up on all fours, and lurch over to the door, sure there will be some kind of accident victim in need of bandaging or escaped kidnapee pleading with me to let her in so she can call the police and report the mild-mannered neighbor who's been holding her captive for eight months (no, I don't really remember what I was watching when I fell asleep on the couch)
I open the door and find two young high-schoolish aged boys with outstretched right hands. "Good morning, ma'am! Nice to meet you!"
It takes a very long time for my hazy brain to adjust to the fact that there is 1) no emergency and 2) they called me ma'am.
I shake one boy's hand, then immediately realize that I've probably infected him with the second strain of the Bubonic Plague. "I shouldn't have shaken your hand," I tell him. "You should probably wash it. Or boil it." The second boy withdraws his hand and steps back.
The first boy that I've probably infected grins bravely on. "Good morning, we're just walking through the neighborhood trying to meet everyone..."
My brain clicks into gear. Aha! New neighbors! I should be friendly. I welcome them warmly to the neighborhood and ask what house they moved into.
The first boy looks confused. "No ma'am, we didn't move here, we're actually just part of a project at school to meet as many people as possible to help with fear of public speaking." The second boy watches me trumpet my nose and backs away farther.
"Well that's great! Beat those fears. Good job. Nice to meet you." I say, propping myself up on the doorjamb. "Bye now."
"Wait! It's actually a contest, and if our team wins we get a three-day trip to Cancun. Ever been to Cancun?"
"No...? Have fun." I say.
"Well, we need to put a sign on your door saying we've been here and talked to you so the other teams don't come and bother you."
"Sounds good," I say. "Yes. Make sure no more people come."
"But to put the sign up we need you to just sign up to receive one of these fine magazines for a year..."
My head throbs with congestion and annoyance, "I don't want any magazines."
"But it's a great cause!" wheedles the first boy. "Your neighbor over there (gestures vaguely over his shoulder) was so excited about this opportunity that she tried to give us $40 in food stamps to help us out."
My cold medicine brain takes a while to sort that out. "What?"
"We didn't take them, of course," he assures me.
"I'm sick, not stupid."
"She really did!"
"Uh-huh."
He thrusts the leaflet of magazine choices towards me again. "We have a choice of over 142 fine publications to choose from, surely there's something here you're interested in."
"I'm subscribed to all of them."
"All 142 magazines? You can't be."
"If you expect me to believe that a little old lady gave you her food stamps so you could take a three-day trip to Cancun, you can darn well believe that I have 142 magazine subscriptions."
The first boy stood speechless, trying to think of a comeback. The second boy started to laugh and disguised it as a snort. He pulled the first boy away.
I didn't even have the door all the way closed before I heard the second boy mutter, "Dude, you just got powned by a sick lady!"
Previous post Next post
Up