When my family went to the Montgomery County Fair last week, I never imagined the effects would be so long lasting. I left my husband, Alex, alone for about 4 minutes while I cleaned ice cream off my toddler’s face. And in that 4 minutes, he filled out a lead for a basement refinishing company.
I don’t know what he was thinking. I don’t think we’re planning on refinishing our basement (unless it’s going to be a kick-ass Christmas present to me, hint, hint). The company wasn’t giving anything away and it’s not like there were fancy balloons or anything to entice him and my other two kids over there. He apparently just saw a box with some empty forms next to it and decided it might be a good idea to give all our pertinent information to a man standing in a trailer hawking basements.
And frankly this man wasn’t even wearing shoes. And his socks were starting to pull off his feet. I think Alex might have been able to find someone more reputable to give our phone number to.
Then the calls started. The same woman called twice a day, even after I told her Alex would call if he was interested, he’s not home anyway, and I don’t care that you’re open until 9 pm, thank you very much. I started recognizing their 800-number on the caller ID. And everytime I saw it, I imagined some sad lady-version of Jack Lemmon in Glengarry Glen Ross sadly clutching our lead. And in my imagination, some slick corporate type (who for sure isn’t the man at the fair) is standing in the background yelling, “Fried dough is for closers!”
I finally answered the phone with, “Is this the basement people?” to which the woman replied, “Oh, have I called too much?”
And although I’m entirely sure that they will be selling our lead elsewhere and we’ll be hearing from the attic refinishers next, a few stern words put the kibosh on further calls from this particular saleslady. And hopefully on Alex’s desire to fill out leads in the future.
Jean also blogs at Stimeyland.