The Slob
: Chapter 4

The sloppy salesman evaluated our home before selecting a small area behind a chair in the corner of the parlor to perform his demonstration. He claimed that, in the event I didn’t want to make the purchase, it wouldn’t be too obvious that only one tiny strip of carpet was sanitary.

It seemed logical; a corner was also one of the less frequently touched places within any home. An area that could surely accumulate heavy build-up without attracting significant attention. This would be a true test of the merchandise.

He pulled the machine over the carpet and it coasted smoothly, the wheelbase certainly was high-quality. Most vacuums demanded a harder tug to get across a carpeted surface, either because they were heavier or because they were constructed cheaper.

I was about to ask him if he wanted to hook up the tether first before I caught myself, remembering that the hose-free feature that he’d mentioned to me was one of the most attractive selling points of the product. It was especially relevant in a long ranch like the house we picked. All of the sinks were on the left side of the house, so cleaning the rugs on the right side really could be a nuisance.

The more I thought about it, I was selling this damn thing to myself. This was uncommon for me as a more calculated and frugal person by nature, but then again, was it my history resurfacing causing a bias? My deep desire for pristine living conditions? The thought of finally getting every centimeter of rug clean, in turn, keeping me sane?

A glimmer of violent imagery forced its way into the back of my head: Lisa’s brains. Then came the blood and gore, her dislodged eyeball and the substantial cups of her inner slop that had submerged itself deep into our rug. I pictured the gore mutating and growing hooks at the ends and driving these alien crimson hangers into the base of the coarse fibers. The mess that I’d left behind was still so fresh…

It was very possible that I wasn’t quite right but maybe this device was more like medication than sanitation. Half of me was trying to convince myself I didn’t need it, the other half whispered that it would protect me. It would help me avoid the filth from my teens creeping up again.

As I looked at the dirty carpet near the heating vent, I saw Lisa’s brains and blood flash yet again. I shuddered and shook my head which helped push the gruesome recreation out of my mind. There was a certain kind of Jekyll and Hyde struggle that seemed to be jerking me back and forth. It was inescapable.

In my head, I tried to be more objective about the vacuum. Just wait and see what it does. The convenience of the product is irrelevant if it works like shit, I thought.

He plugged the machine in and fired it up. Within a matter of seconds, the hot steaming water bubbled through the wide tip attachment. As the stinky salesman pulled it down the rug, I watched layers of dirt and grime that I didn’t even know existed suck up through the clear plastic. The results left behind a lone white streak that was now surrounded by the previously camouflaged nastiness. The darkness around it served as a highlight to just how amazing the device truly was.

He wanted to show me how to unload the vac next, but I didn’t need to see or hear anything else. I purchased the vacuum outright in cash, which left Daniel sitting with a perplexed expression across his face.

Before the salesman left, I asked for something that was critical to the idea that had popped into my head during his demonstration—his card. He obliged me but promptly reminded me of the generous warranty Bissell bestowed on all of their products. I assured him that I wouldn’t be calling him if something broke.

The first thing Daniel asked me when he left was how exactly I thought we could afford to pay for a luxury item like the one I’d just purchased. He didn’t know it at the time, but while the vacuum was something that fed into my cleaning obsession, the real reason I’d bought the product was far more than just my own feeling of security.

I explained to him that a quality vacuum of this nature ultimately sold itself. It was nothing that the foul product peddler did or said to me outside of his demonstration that helped me in making a decision.

“Why haven’t we seen any female salespersons? A cleaning product from one woman to another seems like a logical sell. What would a man know about cleaning anyway?” I asked him, feeling out if he was understanding the concept.

“Probably because it’s dangerous, you know, just walking into strange houses. Wait a second… what are you saying? You think you can sell these?” Daniel asked me with a hint of concern swelling in his voice.

“They sell themselves, but if someone was a little skeptical, I know I could. You saw it too, this thing is phenomenal. No one knows more about cleaning than me, Daniel, and this is by far the best cleaning device I’ve ever seen. This could be a gold mine for us! If a schlub like that can walk in here and, in about five minutes, walk away with a hundred bucks, can you imagine what someone like me could do?” I explained to him as reassuringly as possible.

“You’re pregnant, Vera. You can’t go door-to-door while you’re pregnant. You know I love you with everything but I’m sorry, this idea, it just… it just sounds crazy to me. Plus, you’ll only be getting bigger as time goes on, you should just try and stay comfortable and forget about the money. We can replace a way to manage, we always do.”

I looked at him with a deflated look leaking out of me. I could see he really hated the idea but it excited me so much. I needed him to just give me a chance to prove that it could help us and that it wasn’t as dangerous as he thought.

“Just give me one chance, Daniel. I never said it had to be permanent but I think it’s a good enough idea that we’ve gotta at least explore it.”

“If you keep talking like this… I’m… I’m just going to sell the damn car.”

“No. No, you’re not. I can do this, Daniel, I know I can. Just let me try it for a week. One week. I’m still in the first trimester right now. I can call these people and just see what it’s like. I could be completely wrong, and if I am, then it will be over immediately. But I at least expect you to support me and give me a chance to replace out. Can’t you just compromise with me on this, please?”

It was always hard for him to say no to me. We both probably got along so well since we were just a pair of softies. He nodded his head giving me the okay before repeating the agreement, “One week.”

I looked down at the card with a fresh eager eye. Doorway Sales was the name of the company represented on the front. I called the next morning and talked to an annoyed, unintelligent sounding man who spoke rather frankly.

“Lady, you know, they call ‘em salesmen for a reason, right?” he said, putting a hard accent on the men part.

“Are you saying you won’t hire me because I’m a woman?” I asked him.

“No, it’s just, in this business, you’re going into people’s houses a lot. I mean, are you sure you’re comfortable with that? A broad like you coul—”

“I know what the job entails and I’m telling you I want in. If you don’t give me a fair shake then I just might have to let other people know what kind of sexist practices go on at Doorway Sales,” I said to him firmly.

“Whoa, geez, lady, relax. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. You got a car?”

“Yup.”

“Alright, be here tomorrow then!” he barked, slamming down the receiver like he’d just lost a battle.

It felt like things were about to start getting interesting and they only got better when I learned how much I could potentially make. The incentive system was remarkable for door-to-door sales, something that took me by surprise.

It was $20 per unit sold with an additional $20 bonus if I sold three or more each day. If I was any good at it, I could be making a lot more than I would by going full-time at the Hilton and in a much shorter timeframe.

Daniel gave me a concealable canister of pepper spray before I left on the first day. It was easy to tell where his head was at, still thinking the worst was descending upon us. It was sweet of him though. I knew he only cared for me and wanted to be sure I made it home safe. I kissed him on the lips and promised him I’d be careful. I wouldn’t go inside a house if it didn’t feel right and I’d keep the pepper spray handy at all times no matter what.

The first day couldn’t have gone better. It wasn’t long before I noticed that the majority of the women I spoke with related to and respected my humility. I also felt I had an edge against my male counterparts in the aspect that, if a woman was home alone, they would surely be more comfortable with another female entering their house as opposed to a strange man like the one who had appeared on my doorstep. And of course, as I suspected, they loved the product. My analysis had proven correct; the Bissell sold itself.

I approached seven houses fronted by women that day. Three of them had taken my card and the other four made in-cash purchases on the spot. Another house I visited had both a husband and a wife who happened to be home. It felt even more natural to sell to them.

I articulated the features, comparing my own house to theirs, which was also a ranch. This allowed me to key in on the hose-free benefit, which suited the buyer without a hint of embellishment. The couple happily became my fifth sale of the day and I hadn’t even had lunch yet. The getting was good, far better than I could have even imagined.

I only visited three other houses that day. One being another couple who seemed to be pretty high on the product but decided they wanted to think about it, and the other two were men. They were even easier to accommodate. Unsurprisingly, most of them were overly flirtatious with their wives away or being single and ready to mingle. A little sweet talk and a bat of the eyelashes and, suddenly, the Bissell was the ideal gift for their wife, girlfriend, sister, or mother.

By the day’s end, I returned to Daniel safe and sound, and, to his delight, much earlier than expected. I was all in one piece but a hell of a lot richer as evidenced by the fistful of Jacksons that I was clenching. I approached him cheerfully, ready to spread the good word and lucrative karma.

“I think I might’ve solved our problem,” I stated, looking at Daniel.

He didn’t seem especially happy still since I’d been gone for what would usually be my day off. He was probably sore that he was losing the time we normally spent with each other. Despite his overall disapproval, I knew he understood that what I’d fallen into was going to help our future.

I was able to convince him quite effortlessly that I was going to keep selling past the initial one-week agreement. The money was just too good to turn down and, for the first time, I think while he wished I didn’t have to continue selling, he understood that I should. I’d found a niche previously unbeknownst to me that I could exploit for a small window to help us eek our way just a tad further ahead.

I began mapping out the many neighborhoods around us and charting houses that I’d sold to in addition to ones who didn’t buy. Eventually, I could also keep a tally of the houses I’d been to that had sold or changed ownership. I might be able to revisit some of the same properties again with new clients inside. That was down the road, but maybe if sales remained consistent, I could resume my routes after I gave birth.

The weeks continued to fly by and the money continued to roll in. Once I was a few weeks into the second trimester, Daniel really started to petition for me to retire, at the very least until the baby was born.

“I can see that your feet are swollen, honey, I know you can’t be comfortable out there. I don’t want you walking around in pain all day. The money is nice but you’ve already made so much extra, don’t you think it’s time you take a break so we can count the earnings?” he pleaded with me.

I wasn’t ready to stop yet, there was too much cash up for grabs. I felt greedy but, at the same time, I knew I wasn’t. I was just supplying people with high-end customer service and useful products that made their lives much more convenient. All of that effort was going into brightening the future for our baby.

I expounded further for him, “This gravy train we are on is almost too good to be true, surely it won’t be around forever, right? We need to capitalize on this while we can. This is our opportunity and we have to grab it by the horns. It’s easy money, too easy to give up on yet.”

Ultimately, we ended up compromising. We came to the exact same conclusion we had initially: one week.

I would have one more week to make as many sales as I possibly could. I’d sell a few hours after my shift and then on the days I was off, and after that, it was all over. One more week to cash in on this fluky jackpot I’d hit. Once the week expired, it was time for me to focus solely on being a mother and the best wife I could be. We made a deal and he even made me shake his hand, apparently unconvinced that he could tear me away from my newest infatuation.

After we settled on the plan, everything went just as we had agreed. I was on the verge of capping off another exceedingly lucrative week of work but still set to retire, for the immediate future anyway. Before I knew it, Friday afternoon was upon me. I’d just finished selling two vacuums in an area that was a bit further away from where we lived. I was running out of houses. If I could just sell one more, I’d be eligible for the bonus. One more sale, forty more dollars. What a way to finish.

The pickings had become a bit slimmer, at least as far as what was considered a reasonable drive for me. The last two days, I’d found myself in more rural areas and further out from the burbs. I was okay with that though, it seemed like if I could step into a house out there, I could close a sale.

The folks in isolation were typically the friendly type and probably weren’t accustomed to sweet ladies like myself popping in at random times. I wasn’t blessed with a perfect childhood but at least I was blessed with good genetics. A pretty face like mine can go a long way in a business where everyone meets in person.

I had about two hours left before I would be set to head home and concentrate on my maternity. There was a road to my left I hadn’t been down yet. Through the bushy overgrown vegetation that seemed more prominent the further I looked down, I could see a street sign. It was too faded to make out the name, although the dead-end sign beside it was clear as day.

Those old country roads went quick. Many of them didn’t have more than a handful of houses on them. Two hours should’ve been more than enough time for me to at least put a good dent in it, if not get through the whole strip.

At the time, I figured that if it was longer than I expected, I could just mark it down on the map and come back at a later time. What I eventually would come to realize is that coming back wasn’t what I needed to worry about, it was coming out.