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| Noodle Nova in Pumpkins 1810.13 via Piper |
Hi Mom,
I knew you would appreciate this story and laugh and laugh. I can hear you laughing. I can hear you bringing it up again and again to tease. "I can't believe you did that." I can hear you repeat and laugh some more.
Okay.
So, breaking with my usual schedule to tell this story. No throwback this week and no reprint. Just one HEY MOM this week, this one.
Because of this puppy up above, we need our carpet shampooed. Mainly, just our living area. And, really, she's pretty good, mostly house broken. She asks to go out and take care of business quite often. She's a good, sweet, and well-meaning puppy, so don't take this cause I am describing the wrong way. Facts are facts. And factually speaking, there have been times that she has peed on the carpet and no one saw her do it, no one found it later, and the carpet just absorbed the urine eventually. In fact, I may be mostly to blame for this negligence. After all, though I am home less often than I was in the last year, I am here more than anyone else, but I am working most of the time, in my office, and not watching Noodle and her propensity to pee in the living room.Liesel has a witch nose. She's very sensitive to smells. I have to put my nose to the carpet in an area where the pee has probably soaked through to smell it. Liesel smells it all the time, so she announced that we need to get the carpet shampooed. I made a note for my desk, though neither of us has found the time to call yet.
Yesterday, this nice young woman knocked on our front door a few hours (three?) before Liesel and I had to leave for appointments in Portland. She claimed to be working for a company whose name started with an A (I did not pay attention), and she explained that she was going around shampooing carpets. Would like my carpet shampooed? Indeed I would. Liesel was napping otherwise I would have stalled to consult, but I figured that this was the perfect storm of coincidence as the universe supplies us with this very thing we need.
More details became apparent. The girl, Jenna, was in contest to win a trip to Reno if she cleaned 15 carpets in our neighborhood yesterday. She described the company's promotion. It paid her to clean carpets, and all we had to do in exchange was recommend their service. Given the way she spoke of what was to take place, I just assumed that the company was a carpet cleaning company. Also, as usual, I was entrenched in some work, and so I did not ask questions or engage much in the way of critical thinking skills to the visit. She seems pretty harmless, and if they had to come back later, the kids would be here after Liesel and I left for Portland. Win-win, I am thinking.
I was clear that I need to leave by 1 p.m. and was assured that this would be no problem. I went back to work. About thirty minutes later, Jenna returned with another woman, Marisa, and a man JB. The explanations that followed still did not reveal the true purpose of their visit. They still seemed to represent a carpet shampoo company. JB explained that they had been in business long time, worked out of Vancouver, and used this Kirby vacuum/shampooer. Okay, fine. And then the other shoe dropped.
"We're not asking you to buy this machine today, but if you were to consider it..."
Still, I figured a free shampoo was worth a sales pitch as I clearly explained that we just bought a vacuum and would not be buying another. Here's the second moment at which I should have called off the shenanigans. The first moment: when they arrived. Don't agree. Don't let them in. Like vampires. The second moment: when I realized that the catch was that this was all just a demo to sell me a $3000 vacuum that they would mark down to as much as $1300 if I traded in my current vacuums, that was when I should have declined their kind offer. If not for Noodle and the pee in the carpet, I would have said no from the start. I didn't have time to deal with a sales pitch. I had work to do.
Next mistake. After JB and Jenna cleared out and left Marissa behind, presumably, to shampoo our carpet and leave -- since I had firmly declined to buy the vacuum -- I needed to take a shower. Remember, we had upcoming appointments in Portland? And so, I left Liesel -- who had awakened from her nap -- down stairs alone with the very nice young woman hell bent on selling us a vacuum.Next thing I knew, Liesel was back upstairs during my shower. WTF? Why did I let this person in our home? I had to go deal with her. Again, I should have just asked her to leave, but again, we NEEDED our carpet shampooed, and I did not realize that my remarks of "we are definitely not buying a new vacuum today, period, not going to happen, no matter what you say or do" were falling on deaf ears.
Next there was the comparison part. She vacuumed the floor with my vacuum cleaner and with her hers and showed me all the dirt my vacuum is leaving behind. Hey, that's great. I am still not buying a new vacuum.
Then there were all the weedling methods: "I know you're not buying it, but if you were to buy it." NO. Meanwhile, I keep retreating to my office thinking she will just finish with the shampoo and go. She keeps calling me back: "sorry to bug you, but..." Now there are many, many moments at which point I should have nicely asked her to leave, but, you know, SHAMPOO. Plus, I am a nice guy as someone with whom Liesel and I shared the story later agreed.
I am growing more and more annoyed. After all, I HAVE TO GO.
Eventually, I get her to start the shampooing, though she is still trying to sell me the vacuum cleaner with special deals and discounts that she gets from the mother ship, which she calls on her phone.
Liesel leaves.
I am trying to hustle Marisa out. She only shampoos half the carpet. Then she is trying to pack her things. Liesel is waiting for me up the highway but doesn't want to be late for our appointments. The girl is having a terrible time. She admitted to me earlier that she was not feeling well and not at her best (though now I wonder if this was part of her sales pitch to play on my sympathy). In the end, I had to tell her that she would have to finish packing her things out side, and I helped her carry her things out because I had to leave.
After earlier resistance because I wanted the visit from the girl scouts selling cookies, I am now willing to put a NO SOLICITING sign out front (though maybe I can add an "except for girl scouts" banner).
The pictures of Noodle are only to soften the story.
I am WAY too nice to people.
Below, there's the Ikea incident, of which we were reminded with this incident.
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Reflect and connect.
Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you, Mom.
I miss you so very much, Mom.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.
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- Days ago = 1198 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1810.14 - 10:10
NEW (written 1708.27) NOTE on time: I am now in the same time zone as Google! So, when I post at 10:10 a.m. PDT to coincide with the time of your death, Mom, I am now actually posting late, so it's really 1:10 p.m. EDT. But I will continue to use the time stamp of 10:10 a.m. to remember the time of your death, Mom. I know this only matters to me, and to you, Mom.
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