I love steak. My husband loves steak. My kids love steak.
But, I'm not going to buy it out of the back of some guy's truck.
We've had a lot of solicitors in our neighborhood lately...The Money Girl, the 35 year old 'college' student offering to paint our house number on the curb, magazine vendors, some weird guy on a bike with a clipboard, and...
That's what my kids like to call them.
The other day the kids were all in the back yard. They don't always stay there. They like to run around to the front door and bang on it so they can come back inside and get a forgotten toy...or a drink...or a bathroom break...or just to say 'hi'.
Why not go back in the door they used to go outside...that would be the back door? Probably because they like to see the annoyed look on my face when I unlock the front door and let them come inside. Or maybe they like to see the smoke come out of my ears. Who knows.
While the kids are out back, or supposed to be out back, I hear a knock at the front door. I know right away it is not my kids. It's that annoying rhythmic knock:
Dum-da-da-dum-dum-----DUM, DUM!
My kids aren't that coordinated. Well, maybe The Fourth Grader. But, I know it's not my kids.
None of my neighbors are home so I know it's a solicitor. Fantastic. Bonus for the solicitor that I already want to punch him/her in the neck for that annoying knock.
I go to the door and see a young man, let's call him Slick, because he looks exactly like Matt Dillon in "There's Something About Mary" with his narrow eyes and pencil thin moustache. Also, he is standing there with his hands in his pockets rocking back and forth on his heels. He obviously needs to take a course in professional skills from The Money Girl.
I see the logo on his truck and it has the word 'steak' in it.
Ugh.
Hello Ma'am! Your neighbor...
Wait a second. Let me stop you. You guys were here a week and a half ago and I wasn't interested. I am still not interested. I have already been to the grocery and I don't have a deep freezer.
Huh....that wasn't us. We've never been door to door. What did their truck look like? Black? F10 pick up?
Uh-oh. I've caused a commotion in the world of meat sales. Meat madness? Steak war? It could be a reality show.
Yea, I don't know. But, I don't need any meat.
Well, I'm just here because your neighbor Jane Smith's credit card was declined for her regular order and my boss said I could see if any other neighbors wanted to buy it.
Likely story, buddy.
Nope. I don't want to buy my neighbor's meat. Or any other meat off your truck. Or any other truck.
Alrighty...
Now I know who has bad credit in the neighborhood.
And, my kids have a new character with whom I can threaten them.
Do you have a lot of solicitors in your neighborhood this summer?
But, I'm not going to buy it out of the back of some guy's truck.
We've had a lot of solicitors in our neighborhood lately...The Money Girl, the 35 year old 'college' student offering to paint our house number on the curb, magazine vendors, some weird guy on a bike with a clipboard, and...
The Steak People
That's what my kids like to call them.
The other day the kids were all in the back yard. They don't always stay there. They like to run around to the front door and bang on it so they can come back inside and get a forgotten toy...or a drink...or a bathroom break...or just to say 'hi'.
Why not go back in the door they used to go outside...that would be the back door? Probably because they like to see the annoyed look on my face when I unlock the front door and let them come inside. Or maybe they like to see the smoke come out of my ears. Who knows.
While the kids are out back, or supposed to be out back, I hear a knock at the front door. I know right away it is not my kids. It's that annoying rhythmic knock:
Dum-da-da-dum-dum-----DUM, DUM!
My kids aren't that coordinated. Well, maybe The Fourth Grader. But, I know it's not my kids.
None of my neighbors are home so I know it's a solicitor. Fantastic. Bonus for the solicitor that I already want to punch him/her in the neck for that annoying knock.
I go to the door and see a young man, let's call him Slick, because he looks exactly like Matt Dillon in "There's Something About Mary" with his narrow eyes and pencil thin moustache. Also, he is standing there with his hands in his pockets rocking back and forth on his heels. He obviously needs to take a course in professional skills from The Money Girl.
I see the logo on his truck and it has the word 'steak' in it.
Ugh.
Hello Ma'am! Your neighbor...
Wait a second. Let me stop you. You guys were here a week and a half ago and I wasn't interested. I am still not interested. I have already been to the grocery and I don't have a deep freezer.
Huh....that wasn't us. We've never been door to door. What did their truck look like? Black? F10 pick up?
Uh-oh. I've caused a commotion in the world of meat sales. Meat madness? Steak war? It could be a reality show.
Yea, I don't know. But, I don't need any meat.
Well, I'm just here because your neighbor Jane Smith's credit card was declined for her regular order and my boss said I could see if any other neighbors wanted to buy it.
Likely story, buddy.
Nope. I don't want to buy my neighbor's meat. Or any other meat off your truck. Or any other truck.
Alrighty...
Now I know who has bad credit in the neighborhood.
And, my kids have a new character with whom I can threaten them.
Do you have a lot of solicitors in your neighborhood this summer?
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