No, You Can’t Come In

By Jim Hagarty
2015

So a young man comes to my door just now. Mumbles a bunch of stuff about water and savings and such and then asks me to go get my last water bill. I tell him no. Within about two minutes of meeting me, he starts to push past me to go downstairs to check my water system. I stop him.

“You want me to take my shoes off?” he asks, as he starts to kick them off.

“What are you selling?” I ask.

Nothing, he laughs, as if I’m a stupid old man.

So I grabbed the dog and went out on the porch with him and asked him to sit down.

“Oh, so we’re sitting down now,” he chuckles.

“Yes we are,” I reply.

So he tells me all about the amazing filters his company offers. Boy they sound good. All for the cost of a dollar a day. Feels strange to be talking money with someone who isn’t selling anything.

But here’s the good news. The installation fee is $600 but he has a guy in the neighbourhood right now so that fee is going to be waived.

Give me your business card and website, I tell him.

“I don’t have a business card, but if you have a piece of paper you can write down the name of the company.” So, I entered the name in my phone. And he left, less friendly than he arrived.

I will check out his company. First I will Google to see if it’s legit. Maybe it is.

But if I need filters, I will go to my local store where I know the owner and get his opinion. He has never tried to push his way into my home.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.