So Long, Solicitors

It’s that time of year when at least once a week, we get a knock at the door at dinnertime. Yes, it’s solicitor season, when everyone from the big utility companies to local contractors sends their sales teams door-to-door to try to drum up business.

I’m here to tell you, on behalf of all people with little kids (and probably many who don’t have children) that such sales bombing techniques are not welcome and are not working. Anyone who sends someone with a clipboard to my door when I’m trying to feed or bathe or tuck in two children isn’t going to get my business, and if I’m already using your services, I won’t be upsizing.

Why? I’m completely unreceptive to any sales pitch that goes hand in hand with disrupting my household just when we are trying to settle everyone down for the night. A knock at the door gets everyone stirred up. First to go nuts is the dog, who thinks any unknown visitor or delivery is a threat to our safety. He barks with an intensity that frightens the kids, who then start to cry and yell, raising both the household decibel level and blood pressure as one parent drags the dog to the powder room and closes the door until he calms down, and the other parent tries to soothe the crying children. Even if we wanted to answer the door once everyone is quiet, the salesperson has usually moved onto the neighbors by then.

We got burned four years ago when we made the mistake of letting in a contractor’s salesman. At the time, we were shopping around for quotes to replace our roof, and we foolishly thought this would be a quick way to get another quote. The man wound up staying more than two hours, unwilling to take no for an answer and pulling stunts like pretending to call his boss for a fake conversation about how silly it was that we weren’t going to accept his bid (we knew the call went nowhere because when we checked the call log, we found that the number he dialed was long-distance, and our landline is set up for local calls only).

That example aside, the salespeople usually know when to move on and are friendly, even when they inevitably get the cold shoulder from me when I cut off their spiel with a clipped “no, thank you,” or they can see me through the front window, doing my best to ignore them.

I know that it’s great that the clipboard crew members have jobs when the economy isn’t great (though based on my reaction, hopefully they aren’t getting paid on commission alone). I just wish their employment didn’t come with a cost to families like mine.