Friday, April 18, 2014

O is for Oh-Oh

Facebook Post: Wednesday, April 16
I had laid down for a nap after swallowing a couple of Tylenol 3s, and woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing repeatedly. I staggered downstairs in a stupor and tried to focus on what this guy was telling me - something about furnace accessories and drumming up business, and could he put a sign in my window ... or maybe it was my door. I dunno ... I felt like I was drunk, swaying back in forth in the doorway, dried nap-drool with hair stuck in it on my cheek (you know how you drool, and your hair gets in it, then when it dries it sticks?), and what hair not stuck to your face resembles that flying cow from Twister? The guy handed the sign to me to look at but I couldn't see the fecking thing because I didn't have my glasses on, so I was doing deep-squinting exercises to see if it would focus, but then he abruptly took it away, I think because I was starting to scare him. I tried to reassure him that I wasn't feeling well. "I seck," I mumbled. The guy suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights. "I dunt enderstund wot ure tying 2 tall me," I said, and then reiterated, with emphasis, "I SECK." The guy looked relieved. "Is there something going around? The person in the house next door was sick." (I thought, BRILLIANT neighbour, faking it.) "How about I come back tomorrow when you're feeling better?" he asked magnaminously. I nodded and smiled, which caused the dried drool on my face to crack, and vowed never to answer the GD doorbell again as long as I live.


Thursday, April 17, approximately 2 p.m.
I let the dog out the back door and, as I was waiting for her to do her doggie bittnezz, it occurred to me that I should shut the blinds in the front window, in case the sales guy from yesterday showed up. Our house is open concept - if he's standing at the front door, he can peek through the living room window and see right through to the back door. Where I was standing. Waiting for the dog. Thinking about closing the blinds. And then DING DONG, the doorbell rang. FECK! He's EARLY! I ducked for cover into the kitchen, but realized he might still see me in the reflection from the glass cupboards, so I scootched down beside the garbage can and held my breath, not just because I was hiding, but also because the garbage stunk. DING DONG! He rang the bell again, and I just about crapped my pants. Sweat poured off me. My heart raced. I wondered if I'd have a heart attack next to the garbage can. The dog, meanwhile, was barking her fool head off outside, either wanting to be let in or warning me about the intruder on the porch. I hid, and waited. No way was I answering the door. I just hid. And hid. Minutes went by. The dog stopped barking .... the doorbell hadn't rung for a while. I was just thinking that maybe he had given up when he KNOCKED on the door. FECK! The dog started barking again. I thought I was gonna die from the smell of meatloaf from three nights ago, mouldering three inches from my schnoz. After a while the dog shut up again. Eventually I heard footsteps going down the front steps. "Maybe it's a trap," I thought, so I stayed hidden in the kitchen for another 20 minutes. Finally, only my need to go to the bathroom overpowered my fear of the dude at the door. I peeked around the corner, sniper style, didn't see him, and quickly scurried over to window and shut the blinds tight.


Thursday, April 17, approximately 9 p.m.
Dave had an appointment for a haircut, we went grocery shopping and picked up some take-out for a late dinner. We had just gotten home, and were still unpacking groceries, when DING DONG, the doorbell rang. Dave was standing in the front foyer, so he answered it. As soon as he did, I heard the sales dude's voice. NO WAY! HE CAME BACK AT 9 O'CLOCK! I assumed my position hiding in the kitchen and listened as my way-too-nice husband heard the sales pitch. Something about security systems. I still wasn't up to par, health-wise, and this guy had some kind of accent, so it took me a while to figure it out. Dave listened, and listened, as our supper grew colder, and finally he said he wasn't interested and hustled the guy back into the night.


I've been nervous about it ever since. We didn't even see him as we were unloading groceries, but suddenly he was there - where exactly did he come from? Was he watching to see us come back home? I'm telling ya, if we get broken into, he'll be the first person I suspect ... him trying to sell us a security system, and then a break-in... coincidence? I think not.

11 comments:

  1. LOL You Canadians are so polite. I woulda nipped that right in the bud the first night when he showed up and esp. I was sick. "Go. Away." *slam*

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  2. Oh. I have been there. Too often. How lucky that Dave answered the door to him this time. I hope that he is so persistent because his wages come from commission - but would have been suspicious too. Which is probably a reflection on me, rather than him.

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  3. Jojo's comment had me laughing we are kinda nice :) I hope you feel better and yup sounds kinda weird to me like he was waiting but maybe I am growing more non-nice -Canadian as I age:) Take care of you. Hug B

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  4. I can't remember the last time there were salespeople at the door, but then again, I'm never at home during the day.

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  5. We have door-to-door people ALL the time! We never had them where we lived before, but we have them all the freaking time, now! Ooh... I just thought of this: Maybe, I should get a laser pointer set up and tell them I have them in my sights!

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  6. That is just annoying. Ugh. Door-to-door sales is so intrusive.

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  7. Sounds very suspicious to me! We had someone come around once, many years ago and put what he called "black light" security numbers on a lot of our stuff, for easy ID if anything ever got stolen. We asked him to do the lids bikes as well, but he said they were too old, not likely to get stolen. The next night we got home from work and found the kids bikes were gone.

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  8. Oops, "kids" bikes, not lids.

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  9. I am still trying to get past P and poo in your last post: too much information. Have a good day
    the Ol'Buzzard

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