There
was a period of a few months, back around my 18th summer, that I took a job that involved knocking on the doors of homes,
mostly suburban homes, usually around dinner time and giving away encyclopedias. Well, I wasn't
actually give them away. The sets cost a few hundred bucks and in
order to get one the customers had to sign a contract to pay for them: it actually said “retail installment agreement” right at the top. In big letters, too. They also had to give me a deposit. I told them we were only giving the
encyclopedia sets away to people who “qualified” to get them. And people, as they signed that agreement and wrote out a
check, actually asked when they would find out if they qualified to
get that free set.
The best doors to knock on were on houses that had aluminum siding, a silly looking fence and a “jungle gym” in the back yard. Once I was inside, if I also spotted a table with a couple of dozen magazines addressed to them, then these folks were gold. We called them “naturals.” It was not a compliment.
In those few months, I made enough doing this to buy a motorcycle.
The best doors to knock on were on houses that had aluminum siding, a silly looking fence and a “jungle gym” in the back yard. Once I was inside, if I also spotted a table with a couple of dozen magazines addressed to them, then these folks were gold. We called them “naturals.” It was not a compliment.
In those few months, I made enough doing this to buy a motorcycle.
W.C.
Fields is no doubt smiling down on them.
1 comment:
So is P. T. Barnum. :-)
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