I had two different groups of magazine marketers knock on my front door within an hour of each other tonight.
The first was a pimply white boy who reeked of cigarette smoke and told me that he was selling mag subscriptions, not to win the grand prize of a trip to Hawaii, but to make money to go to art college. I explained to him that I’m environmentally opposed to magazines, which he didn’t get (you know, trees equal paper, postage equals gas consumption, burning fossil fuels equals global warming?). Then he gave me the “you can donate a subscription to a children’s hospital for $57″ line. $57? I sent him on his way.
The next knock was two young African-American women, also selling mag subscriptions, but claiming they work for an organization called Second Chance (not a non-profit, supposedly, but I can’t find it on-line, which makes me a bit suspicious). The women said they’re both single mothers trying to make it. One said she’s 21 and has three kids under the age of six and is a former junkie. Damn!
These girls seemed smart and together, although a bit on the make (they kept complimenting me, which made me feel weird). I gave them $20, signed their piece of paper, and hoped they’re for real.
So, since then, I’ve been Googling magazine marketers, and I haven’t discovered much about whether these folks are for real. Is it just a job or some kind of pyramid scheme? One of the women told me that there are more than 300 companies and organizations sending folks out on the streets to sell subscriptions. It must work. I do think it’s more difficult to say no to someone standing at your front door than to that same person on the phone.
So how do y’all handle door-to-door marketers? Do you listen to their stories? Do you turn them away immediately unless they’re Girl Scouts?
What about the political lobbyists? I’m more likely to talk to folks about politics, particularly if they’re on my team. Last week a young guy knocked and then handed me a flier about some dude running for state office. I glanced at the flier, read the words “conservative Republican” and said to him: “I’m never going to vote for one of those. Why do you give this to someone else?” He was nice about it and thanked me for my honesty.
In truth, I don’t like strangers coming to my front door. It makes me nervous and uncomfortable. I’m torn between my ingrained politeness and my “don’t tread on me” mentality. I think I’d be most comfortable greeting strangers at my front door with a pecan pie in one hand and a shotgun in the other.
Unfortunately, unless the blinds are down, people coming up my front walk can see straight into my living room, so I can’t pretend I don’t see them. Nor do I have time to hide. Part of me wants to be crotchety and tell them to leave me alone, especially when it’s dinner time. But I’m too nice. Plus everyone’s somebody’s baby. Even if they’re on the make.
