Sucked In

I've heard about these types of things, but typically the setting is 1950 and the housewife answers the door, instead of me.  What am I talking about? A real live, honest to goodness, door to door vacuum salesmen.  I know, right!  I was thinking those jobs went the way of the Dodo.  But two days ago I had a blast from the past, right here in the big city.

A knock at the door and I answered (still not used to using the peephole) and there was a young guy (we'll call him Slick) with a friendly smile and an offer for a free carpet cleaning.  This is typically the part where the person watching the horror movies screams, "No! Don't do it! Don't do it!"  Just remember hindsight is 20/20.  After quickly factoring in that the last vacuum was at least two weeks ago,  free was mentioned and he was the first person outside of my wife that I had seen or talked with in a number of days, I said, "Sure, I'll take a free cleaning."  Little did this country boy know.

Slick had to finish bothering the rest of my neighbors, who I found out were either not home or much smarter than me, but promised to return shortly to do the cleaning.  I closed the door and immediately thought, I wonder if that guy is going to rob me.  You hear about these things on the news.  I decided I would use the peephole when he returned to make sure he wasn't holding a gun and a mask.  The subtle clues that I'm sure all robbers hold up to the peephole before being let in.  I look for the subtle clues.  There it was, the knock.  I opened the door as if I was welcoming an old friend and in Slick came with his "boss", two boxes and a bag.  The "boss", who looked to be about five years younger than me thanked me for my time and introduced me to the Kirby vacuum - the last thing I'll ever need to buy for my house.  As I politely listed to the "boss" I was watching Slick unpack these two boxes and setup the wonder machine.

The "boss" thanked me for my time and assured me that Slick was as good as they come and I would be in good hands.  Then he left and Slick began.  The history of the company, small talk, friendly banter, a demonstration of how durable this machine really was (complete with a fist pounding on the top of it), a run down of all the attachments and - 30 minutes later - he was ready to begin.  "First let's use your vacuum."  Not all that surprised by the request, after all I had seen these types of things happen on TV, I pulled out the dusty, five-year-old, Hoover out of the closet and plugged it in.  Slick diligently started vacuuming.  The vacuum container, already being full from previous uses, needed to be emptied.  The empty container was snapped back into place and the Hoover was switched on.  Poof!  A cloud of dust came from the container.  I suspect foul play was involved while I had my back turned, but I can't prove anything.  After a dramatic cough, Slick continued to finish the floor chatting and doing his best to make me his best friend in under an hour.

Once the Hoover had it's turn, the Kirby was rolled out.  I could hear angels singing faintly in the distance.  Another overview of how wonderful this silvery machine was.  It even came with "drive assistance".  This is something I can understand on a lawn mower, but a vacuum?  How weak and lazy have American's gotten?  But then again, if the device spins at 1800 RPM - which, was compared to the speed of my car's engine - it had better come with "drive assistance"!  We started and after three swipes of the Kirby the little demonstration pod was full.  Did I mentioned that we have two inside dogs?  Well, it was evident.  The little white disk had two inches of dog hair piled on top of it and which made it look like a very disgusting top hat.  Slick of course was shocked!  In went another little white disk and out it came again full of dog hair and dirt.  This process was repeated five times, each time the top hat was a little smaller.  The amount of carpet covered so far - two feet.  Okay, so I know we aren't the cleanest, but who knew?  I have yet to walk on our carpet without cringing.

Ten disks later and a few more feet vacuumed, Slick was getting thirsty.  Almost on queue, after handing him a glass of water I asked, "Do you mind if I give it a go?"  It was like I was reading from the same script he was.  My motivation was to speed the demonstration along, honest!  I was able to finish the hallway and this allowed Slick to keep talking about how amazed he was at how much dirt there was coming out of my carpet.  He held nothing back while he tried to create a feeling revulsion in me toward my old Hoover.  This was about the time my wife came home.

She walked in to see Slick giving me a rundown of all the accessories that fit into the nice wall hanging unit that I had to make sure to place above the reach of our yet unborn children.  Her look said it all, "What have you gotten yourself into?"  My wife is a stone cold negotiator.  It runs in her blood to have a solid distrust of anyone trying to sell anything.  She showed no emotion to the 15 white disks with mounds of dirt.  Her face was completely composed when looking at the $2500 price tag.  She gave no ground to Slick as he tried to get her to bite on his fishing line.  Even when he pushed and said, "Well you're not just going to let the dirt pile up are you?  Eventually you'll have to do something with it."  Her response, "I'm not going to do anything with it."  I aspire to have her composure under pressure.  She is my rock.

Seeing that he had better focus on me, Slick continued on to the second of the six features that he just had to show us.  We were told that he didn't get paid unless he sold us a unit or demonstrated at least six features of the Kirby.  He had skillfully started to apply pressure and was just cranking it up a notch. This second feature, in hind sight, I do feel a little bad about - the pet grooming attachment.  A soft rubber, brush-like extension that attached to the hose that would suck the dander, hair and even fleas right off a dogs back.  Slick was determined to show it off.  Knowing that our black lab, Lola, could handle anything with a wag of the tail she was released from her kennel and became a pawn in this sales pitch.  Slick went after her determined to fill up another little white disk.  Lola squirmed, not being used to having her coat vacuumed and who can blame her.  I don't know many dogs that enjoy a good vacuuming.  I'm not sure I would.  However, I think given the chance Slick would have tried to fill a little white disk from me.

Next feature was the mattress cleaner.  This is when my rock became a barrier to Slick and the bedroom. I knew then that Slick had used all the time we were willing to spare.  The next 45 minutes were unwilling minutes used by Slick to accomplish two objectives: make me feel guilty; and making the Kirby the most affordable purchase I've ever made.  Out came his pen and paper and he talked about if he had only gotten to show us the rest of the features.  If only he had gotten to show the carpet shampoo.  If only we had vacuumed the mattress, then he would be able to go to Vegas.  He's never traveled before and this would have been his first time out of the state.  Finally he presented me with a one-day only offer to spend over $1500 to make an investment in a vacuum that I can hand down to my children.  Emboldened by my wife I didn't hesitate in saying, "No."  She chimed in from the kitchen saying it wasn't in the spreadsheet.  "What can I do to make this affordable to you today?"  This question was only asked a dozen times or more.  Even after trying to explain to him that for big purchases we plan ahead and never make a purchase on impulse, he still tried to tempt us with zero down and no payments for 90 days.

The next twenty minutes were spent with Slick on the phone with his "boss" trying to get us the best deal possible to make it "affordable".  His conversation was held in such a manner that we could hear him explaining to his "boss" that we both had jobs and we liked the vacuum, but it just didn't fit in with our budget.  He even offered us his own personal deal, but we held firm.  Placing the Kirby at his feet even the machine seemed to be sad that we had not opened our hearts and wallet to give this wonder machine a home.  Feeling as if I just told a little boy he could never have ice cream again for the rest of his life, Slick walked out the door with his two boxes and bag in hand.

Closing the door I actually felt energized and our floors were a bit cleaner.  I had only paid with two hours of my time.