Take the Doorstep Challenge

Here at Chez Headlander we’ve been troubled by a plague of doorstep “salespeople” this week (well… 3 anyway). In my experience it seems that anyone who knocks on your door unannounced and who isn’t a friend or a neighbour only ever wants one of two things… your money or your soul – and sometimes they want both!

 

First to knock on my door was a bloke pretending to be an engineer from a company that, to keep its anonymity and spare its blushes I’ll call “Gritish Bas”. I say pretending to be as he did indeed work for the company but when Mrs H answered the door he spun her some story that he was there to check our gas meter and that he couldn’t do it unless she “signed just there”. It turned out that the document proffered to her was a contract and this signature would’ve transferred our account with another, cheaper supplier to Gritish Bas. Not really ethical practice this and we didn’t get his name or we would’ve reported him to the company immediately. Still… I suppose that’s the behaviour that you expect from individuals who are commission driven salesmen on a tiny base salary.

 

Next to come and rap on my dread portal was a fellow from a well known electricity supply company who at least was an honest to goodness salesmen and did not claim to be anything else. He was pretty good at his job and was persistent but I stood firm and told him that I was not changing suppliers even for a home cooked meal lovingly crafted by his mother and a night of passion with his sister. Eventually he made me laugh as when I said that “I didn’t deal on the doorstep”, he replied: “Well… I’ll come in then!”.  No deal. Goodbye.

 

Last to call was a pair of nice little old ladies (This always immediately rings the “God Botherer” bell with me) who, when I answered the door, said “hello” and opened with the statement “You probably watch a lot of television don’t you”. “No” I truthfully answered. There was a moment of silence as I stared down at them. This was already not going to their Holy Plan. A copy of a well known religious magazine was then produced from a handbag and offered to me with a comment of “we’ll leave this here for you if you would like to have a read and…” They were cut off by the sound of me slamming the door in their faces. If this sounds like it was rude… then good, it was meant to be. If they hadn’t have been two poor old ladies, who I suspect had lost their husbands and had then been ruthlessly indoctrinated and of course exploited by a religious cult (to me, all religions from Scientology to Christianity are cults) then they would’ve gotten the sharp end of my tongue as well – swearing, threats, the lot. Nothing winds me up like someone preaching to me on my doorstep – If I want that I’ll join the fools who attend the many houses of religion in the area.

 

Nearly as bad as the doorstep intruders are the telephone callers that try and sell you double glazing or some other product… especially those that come when you’re sitting down to eat your tea. Good news - you can get some immediate help with this. First of all register yourself with the Government sponsored “Telephone Preference Service”… here’s their blurb…

 

“The Telephone Preference Service (TPS) is a central opt out register whereby individuals can register their wish not to receive unsolicited sales and marketing telephone calls. It is a legal requirement that companies do not make such calls to numbers registered on the TPS”.

 

It’s free, and you can find them at http://www.tpsonline.org.uk/tps/

 

…and secondly, if some calls do get through when you’re eating a meal, have some fortitude and simply don’t answer the telephone! Don’t worry that you might miss an important call of some kind - As I always say to Mrs H, if someone’s dead then they’ll still be dead when you’ve finished eating.

 

So… the next time Danny Baker or some other “celebrity” knocks on the door asking you to “Take the Daz Doorstep Challenge” – don’t mess about… set the dogs on him!

 

 

Cheers!

 

Headlander

 

Here’s an awful groaner from Hugh about revenge on those who sell door-to-door:

 

An enthusiastic door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman goes to the first house in his new territory. He knocks and a really mean and tough looking lady opens the door, and before she has a chance to say anything, he runs inside and dumps cow dung all over the carpet.

He says, "Madam, if this vacuum cleaner doesn’t do wonders cleaning this up, I'll eat every chunk of it."

She turns to him with a smirk and says, "Do you want salt and pepper on that?"

The salesman says, "Why do you ask?"

She says, "’Cause we’ve just moved in and we haven't got the electricity turned on yet!"