Oh Sales People, How Do I Love Thee?

Whether I like it or not, I'll be turning 30 next July. However, I'm not terribly concerned. I am almost certain there has been a mix up of some sort along the way, mainly because I don't feel 30 years old. A mistake at an important milestone, perhaps one of the many hospitals or dmv's I have been in, or possibly a mishap with my birth certificate. There really are any number of things that could have happened, so meanwhile, I will go along with this fake age until the mistake is revealed.

I have had 2 confirmations of my more believable, younger age this week alone. Both happened to be from sales people coming to my door.

1. The first one occurred mid morning, when a window salesman knocked on my door. He looked about my age, young and healthy and entirely too chipper to be selling windows at such an early hour. He had clearly consumed his morning caffeine, of which I was still in the process and could only hope to be as chipper when said caffeine was completely consumed. I answered the door, looking like I had just rolled out of bed. An awesome case of greasy bed head, a disheveled sweat pants/pajama combo, and no make up (save for the smudges of leftover mascara and eyes shadow from the day before) completed my undoubtedly appealing look. I stepped onto the porch, shoving the curious yet protectively barking dogs back into the house. After politely introducing himself and stating his purpose, he spoke those fated words that every almost-30-year-old wants to hear.... "Is your mom home?"

...

I must have looked a little stunned, and it is possible that I stuttered for the remainder of the conversation. I wasn't stunned in a bad way, just an amused way, and definitely a caught-off-guard way. After a few seconds of said stunned amusement I managed, "I AM the mom." Now it was his turn to stutter. He said something to the effect of, "Oh. OH. Oh. I didn't mean anything by that at all, by the way. Those are beautiful dogs. Labs are great. Are those Labs?" Nice try buddy. He was even more shocked when he learned that not only am I the MOM, I am also the homeowner. AND I have a 3 year old daughter (who is now trying to come outside and say hi). The best part is that he tried to save his sales pitch after all that. It took about 5 minutes to get rid of him. "No thank you, I do not want to sign up for a free window estimate. No thank you, I do not want new windows. Yes I know how old and shabby my windows are. Yes I know how much money I am wasting in heating costs every winter as the cold air pours mercilessly in through my old and shabby windows. No, there is not a better time for you to come back next week to once again try to guilt trip me about my old and shabby windows because of which I waste lots of money every winter." I didn't have the sensibility to say these things at the time, considering my stunned state, but I would be ready next time!!

2. The second confirmation of my more believable, younger age came today with another knock at my door.  This time it was a young man and woman selling vacuum cleaners. I thought the age of door-to-door-vacuum-cleaner-sales was over, so I was already amused before they spoke a single word. You know the type. You've seen the demonstrations.

I momentarily pause the recounting of this story to say that until today, I simply was not aware of how mischievous I could be in messing with sales people. Carry on.

It was the girl's first day going door to door. After saying a few quiet words and staring at me with wide, uncertain eyes, she stopped talking altogether and stepped aside, motioning for the clearly more experienced sales guy to continue. I felt a little bad for her because I certainly know how difficult first days-at-the-new-job can be, no matter what the job. They proceeded to persuade me to let them clean a room of carpet in my house for free, and if I agreed, I would get to keep a handy dandy little hand vac just because. Then came the fated question, the words every almost-30-year-old wants to hear... "Are you over 18?"

...

Yep. This time I was ready. There would be no stunned silence, no stuttered words, no long awkward moments. Watch out sales people, you have no idea what you're in for. "Actually, I'm turning 30 next year! And yes, I am the homeowner," I said proudly. Score for me. Their eyes widened but these sales people were good, and they recovered quickly.

I will spare you the details of this one because we would both be here all day, but let me just say two things. 1) I was very clear in telling them that I would NOT be buying anything. I gave no illusions that I would buy a vacuum costing $2289, despite the fact that I could also win an all expense paid vacation and have the cleanest house on the planet for the rest of my breathing days here on earth. It was their choice whether or not to believe me, so 2) I did not feel bad for sending them away with no more money than they came with after TWO full hours of turning down the best sales lines and tactics this side of the Mississippi. "Yes I am aware that my current vacuum might as well be completely broken compared to using your amazing machine from heaven. Yes I am aware that my floors are still somehow chock full of dirt, grime, dust, dog hair, dead skin cells, dust mites, and even worse, oils, excretions, and dead body parts from said dust mites, because my vacuum is not your amazing machine from heaven (insert angelic voices and a blazing beam of light focused on said machine.) Yes I am aware that my darling little girl uses this grime filled carpet as her play ground. No, my husband really would not ask me to buy this amazing machine regardless of how many disgusting, dog-hair-filled filters you leave strewn about my house. No, my husband really wouldn't be thrilled about buying this amazing machine for me for Christmas, whether or not it is from heaven. No, I am not a person that tends toward mediocrity. (His actual words). Yes, I value my time. Yes, I want my time spent cleaning to be used actually making things clean." I gave it right back to him the whole time. I cheerfully agreed with every fact and salesman-like accusation he could throw at me. Clearly I would love to own this amazing machine from heaven, if only 100 dollar bills grew on the trees out back. I let them go on for two hours because I was already having a good day and was made even happier knowing that I look younger than 18. Possibly I also wanted to keep the handy dandy hand vac and get my carpet at least  somewhat cleaned. Perhaps also to prove that I truly did not have $2289 to spare.

Either way. If I'm gonna turn 30 next year, I can at least be happy that I apparently don't look a day over 18. (Regardless of whether or not this is because my uncaffeinated-morning-self may look hung over or because I often don't dress my age.)

There were no sales people harmed in the making of this post.