A Cautionary Tale

In the last few days, I have discovered that there are some things better left undone.

• Don't listen to a pitch from a salesman.  Especially if you have a propensity for headaches coming on.

We had a nice person come to the door just as I was laying down with my ice pack and really good migraine drugs.  Somehow, in my drug induced nicety, I roped myself into a vacuum salesman coming by later that week.  My, oh my, there are some expensive vacuums out there.  And lots of disgusting dust in my carpets.  (We won't dwell on that part, but I will say I do need a new vacuum, that's for sure.)   

But, this poor kid.  My head hurt pretty bad when he got there, and just got worse.  I kept thinking I just wanted him to stop talking.  He'd say something like, 'Just think about how much healthier your family would be with our Hepa-filter.  All those doctor appointments would be avoided.  Just saving on that alone will pay for the sweeper.  How much did you pay on medical bills last year? How much could not taking your kids in be put toward this sweeper?' and I would quip back with, 'We have a free employee clinic that I took the kids to once last year.  So, zero dollars, really.'

Or, 'How much do you spend on coffee per week?' Me: 'Nothing.'  Him, 'Oh, how about Coke, Pepsi?  I spend a ton on Mountain Dew.'  And I smartly say, 'I drink water.  It's free.'  Smile. 'You should try it.'  Wink.  I was so charming.

And my personal (mortifying) favorite: he explains, 'If I sell just one more vacuum this month, the company is sending me and my wife on a trip.  We got married four months ago and didn't get a honeymoon.  Isn't that sad?  My wife would love the trip.'  And I said, 'Sorry, I don't really feel bad for you on that one.  My husband was in school when we got married.  We never went on a real honeymoon and we've been married seventeen years.  Happily, I might add.  You don't need a honeymoon for a good marriage.  You're not going to convince me to spend 2,000 dollars on a vacuum just so you can have a honeymoon.  Sorry.'  Big smile.

Oh boy, I was his worst nightmare!  I am sure he put a mark on the front of my house somewhere as he left.  Just to warn other salesman that the Tasmanian Housewife She-Devil lives here.  Just in case he forgot, I think I'll make my own:

Migraine in Progress

To avoid rude behavior, abuse, and possible bodily harm or death, salesmen should not enter.  

I'm not kidding.

That poor guy.  I hope he didn't have bad dreams about me.  I'm pretty sure he decided dropping out of college was a bad idea, though.  I'm pretty sure just about now he's thinking, 'Hard English class?  Pshaw!  I've faced the Spawn of Evil on a vacuum sale.  Chaucer can't scare me. Bring. it. on.'