A nice looking young man came to the door yesterday trying to sell me a vacuum. He didn’t know that I’ve already turned down one vacuum salesman this year, or that I have rejected this particular vacuum 107 times since we moved here 14 years ago. So that means I’ll only have to refuse to buy it 7 more times before I can be sure I’ll be left alone the rest of the year. What a fantastic day that will be!
This kid, though, had a technique I had yet to see. He began his shpeel the way they all begin, by handing me his card. Sometimes it’s not a card. Sometimes it’s a flyer or a brochure. Once, it was an actual bottle of air freshener! I can only imagine what the training must be like at this place.
“Get the air freshener in their hands and they’ll be like putty in yours. Mwahahahaha!”
I had a feeling I knew who he was with, but took the card anyway. Then he asked if I’d ever heard of this product. I said, “Yes, and I have no desire to buy one.”
This is usually when they look confused…and even a little hurt. What? How could I not want to purchase this amazing machine? It can suck up every single teeny tiny speck of salt that gets poured onto the carpet. And if I’d just let them in, they could prove it to me…by actually pouring salt onto my carpet.
I was waiting for the young man to say this so I could tell him that during the last vacuum presentation, I realized that I don’t have a pesky salt-spilling problem, and therefore would not need that much suction from a vacuum. But instead, this dude tipped his head down a little, looked at me with big puppy dog eyes, and pouted, “You wouldn’t even buy one from me?”
I tipped my head to the side, gave him the annoyed look I give me kids when they’re being turds, and said, “Not even from you. Nice try though.”
He straightened himself, realized the jig is up, and started asking about my husbands mustang in the driveway. I offered to sell it for $8000, but I guess selling vacuum’s doesn’t pay that well. Neither of us closed a deal.
Maybe I’ve gained some self-esteem, or maybe I’m just better at spotting bullshit, but anymore, I can’t stand it when men flirt with me. Not that it happens all the time, definitely a lot less since my youngest came into the world 3 years ago, but even the few times it does happen, I just think it’s gross. I don’t find it cute, and I don’t want to flirt back, even if it means getting a discount on a vacuum.
Now, I find there are only 3 men who can get what they want from me with flirts and compliments; I’m married to one and gave birth to the other two. Don’t think they have it easy though. I’m at that age where I’m more impressed with hearing The dishes are clean over Your eyes are sparkling.
Come to think of it, there’s really only one person I’d love to get a compliment from. Just once it’d be nice if, after my doctor put me in the stirrups, she’d exclaim, “Oh my! This is exquisite!”
I, of course, would blush and twirl my hair, “Oh, no it’s not.”
“No really, Rachel. I see hundreds of vagina a day and this is lovely. You keep it so prim, and yet, so wildly abandoned. It is going to be my honor to examine you today.”
And that’ll be about the time I promptly pull out my wallet and donate to whatever study she needs funded.
Bye-bye, Self-esteem! It’s time for a visit back to Needy Town. Choo Choo!