Don't Call Me ... I'm In The Shower!

 

I don't know if you have cold-callers where you live. These are people who ring your doorbell at the most inopportune time and try to sell you something or other which you don't need and don't want. Door-to-door salesmen mainly.

Now, I have mixed feelings about these salesmen. I don't like them because they always call when I am alone in the house doing something important. Like painting the ceiling or cooking an omelette, of painting an omelette and cooking the ceiling. Something which I find equally fascinating. Have you ever been fascinated? I was fascinated once. A nurse did it with a needle.

Those door-to-door salesmen can be very persistent, you know. As I was saying before I was fascinated by the pretty nurse. They ring the bell over and over again making our dog mad barking and running all around the house warning me of an intruder. He is good this way, which means I have to stop what I'm doing and answer the door.

But my dislike for salesmen is tempered by the fact that years ago I too used to be such a salesman. I was a door-to-door salesman selling doors to people. I had three sample doors strapped on my back and a small bag with other models and samples of locks, hinges, keys and other paraphernalia. 

I once knocked on a door, a real one, not the one on my back. Are you paying attention you lot, or just fascinated? 

I knocked on a door and a man wearing nothing but a towel round his waist opened it. He had obviously been in the shower as I knocked on his door.

I asked him if he wanted to buy a door, and he told me he already had more than one. I put the case I was carrying down on the ground and as I bent forwards to do this the doors strapped to my back hit the man hard on the forehead. He fell backwards like a boxer who'd been knocked down for the count; and in falling he dropped (or threw in) the towel - not a pretty sight!!!

What was I to do in this situation? Help stem the bleeding on his forehead with the towel; or cover his modesty bits with it?

As I was thinking what to do a huge Alsatian dog came running and barking out of the house.

I picked up my case, turned round and ran as fast as I could  with the heavy doors strapped to my back. The dog caught up with me and started jumping at the doors on my back as if he wanted to open and enter an imaginary room. He was too stupid to go for my legs. I kept running but could not look behind me because the doors obscured my view. I could hear and feel him jumping at my back as I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. Pretty soon, he got tired of running and returned back to his master, whom I could see standing up in his doorway, minus the towel, and waving his fist at me in the air. I think he was saying "Goodbye!"

Anyway, all this is leading to a door-to-door salesman who visited us the other day. That is despite our area being a "No Cold Caller" area. Some well to do areas are so designated by the Authorities prohibiting salesmen from calling on you unannounced.

So this salesman was ignoring the law to start with. What is more odd was his opening line.

"Good morning sir," he said, "do you ever think about death?"

I nearly replied that right now I'm thinking of his sudden death, seeing that he interrupted me. But I said nothing.

He continued: "I am Gilbert D Funct and I represent Pets In Peace, a new service provider just established in your town, and our aim is to share and ease your pain when your beloved pet departs this vale of tears.”

“Hein?” said I.

“PIP … that’s our initials. Pets In Peace will be there to provide you with a casket in which to place the remains of your dearly departed pet. We have caskets in all sizes for goldfish, budgies, hamsters, rabbits, cats, dogs and any other animal or insect which may share your home as a member of your family. All caskets are made to the highest standard of professional workmanship in mahogany, oak, elm, cedar wood and pine. And they are lined in satin or silk in a variety of colours such as white, black, and velvet being the most popular.”

 

I said nothing. So he asked me, "have you got a pet, Sir?"

 

"Yes ..." I mumbled, "down the farm we have some sheep and a pet goat; but we were planning on having a barbecue when it died! That is if it died in summer. Otherwise we would make a soup and freeze the rest!"

 

He looked perplexed for a while and then he continued, “Furthermore, sir, as part of our service we would conduct a solemn ceremony of whatever religious belief you desire, and then we would bury the casket containing the remains of your family pet on your property so you can visit him whenever you wish.”

 

"What if we have eaten the goat?" I asked, "would you bury the bones?"

 

He hesitated, and no doubt thought that he was on a commission if he got a sale, so he said, "yes ... yes ... that could be arranged!"

“What if I lived in an apartment!” I interrupted. “Would you bury the pet under the carpet?”

That certainly stopped him.

“Oh …” he said, “fortunately you live in a lovely house with surrounding gardens; but if you do not wish your pet buried here we have access to a pet cemetery.”

I took the initiative and asked him: “We had planned to flush the goldfish down the toilet … you know … naval burial and all that. Are your caskets water soluble?”

“Er … no … I don’t believe so …” mumbled Gilbert, obviously unaware of my sarcasm.

“And then there’s the cat,” I continued, having gained the upper-hand in this sales pitch, “he’d be too big to flush down the toilet. I’ve often wondered how we’d dispose of him after he’s used up his nine lives …”

“Are you familiar with cremation?” asked Gilbert gaining an advantage point.

“My wife is expert at that … judging from her many Sunday roasts! Perhaps she could do the same to the cat!” I said.

At this point, as luck would have it, she came in the house from one of her shopping trips.

“This is for you,” I said standing aside, “this gentleman has an idea on how to deal with our cat when we're away on holiday!" and I quickly rushed to the pub.