Sunday, May 27, 2007

Pushy salesmen

So have you had any of these gas company salespeople come to your door yet? We've had two so far, both outstandingly aggressive. The first one came about 7:30 in the evening a few days ago. I was sitting on the couch in my living room, tired, peacefully reading, when I saw a young man with a clipboard approaching my front door. I shook my head at him, indicating I would not be answering the door. Not interested, thank you. Go away.

Well, he didn't go away. He stood there in my peripheral vision for at least five minutes, waving his clipboard, waving a brochure, waving his arms, doing everything to convince me that it was Extremely Urgent that I hear what he had to say. Being of the strong conviction that I have the right to not open my door to people just because they think I should, I continued ignoring him.

So he came right up to the door and pounded on it. Two or three minutes went by. He stood there. I was quite prepared to wait him out, but unfortunately Rob was not. He eventually answered the door and dealt with the fellow, far more politely than he deserved, in my opinion.

The second salesperson showed up yesterday afternoon. I was upstairs ironing and Janet came in and told me that "Terasen" was at the door wanting to see a copy of our last gas bill. I told her it was not Terasen and to send him packing. I heard her attempt to do this by advising him that her parents weren't home, and I heard him earnestly try to convince her that she was required to show him a gas bill. She pled (genuine) ignorance of the location of our gas bills. I was just about to storm down and give him many pieces of my mind when I heard Janet just quietly close the door on him. I assume he went away at some point after that. He was not there when I opened the door to get the paper this morning.

I understand that there are many companies out there frantic to be first to snatch all us newly-available gas customers away from Terasen. But surely I am not the only person for whom this sort of pushy hard-sell tactic only serves to completely turn me against the company which authorized such measures.


Kate said...

Being three doors over from you, I received the same eager young man on my doorstep. I did answer the door, and as soon as he started his spiel, I said, "sorry, not interested" and shut the door. But not before witnessing the saddest look come over his face. Maybe what I really said was, "your sweet puppy? I just ate it." Next time a salesman comes to my door, I'm simply going to interrupt and ask, "what is your opinion on the usage of the Oxford comma?" Whatever answer he gives, I'll just shout "WRONG" and close the door.

Spellchick said...

I, personally, am not in favour of the Oxford comma. I just don't care for it. I do hope you won't shout at me, though.

solomon said...

What do you and your equally sociopathic neighbours do when you spot two well-groomed, tall young men arriving together at your front porch? Assume they are selling gas? Hide?
On our cul-de-sac, such dapper duos come to our houses to sell salvation, not gas. And we hide.
And what in blazes are Oxford commas?

Spellchick said...

Solomon, the Oxford comma is the one that appears after the word bananas in the following phrase: I like apples, bananas, and pears. I was taught not to put a comma in before the last word (or phrase) of a sequence, so it looks wrong to me. And yes, certainly when two well-groomed people approach one's door, we all know what they're selling and we all hide. The gas jockeys travel alone.