In our column documenting the ups and downs of family life, local mum Harassed Harriet on fending off unwanted salespeople
My husband is thinking of getting our home phone disconnected. The only calls we get are automated messages telling us that we can claim for an accident that we haven't yet had.
"Give me a real person any day," he groans, answering yet another recorded message. "At least I can have the satisfaction of interrupting."
I always feel guilty about cutting a cold caller short, as I once had a telemarketing job selling wills. Each time I picked up the phone, the top salesman's words of wisdom rang in my ears: "The best tactic is to sound like a friendly newsreader."
I tried pitching myself as a cross between Angela Rippon and Jan Leeming but, just as I got going with my pitch, the phone would be slammed down and I’d have to start all over again.
Rebuffing a cold caller on the phone may be tricky, but I find turning salespeople away from my door much harder. So, when a man named Pedro rings the bell, I find myself listening to his sales patter. He is from the local garage and offering cut-price MOTs for the first fifty people who sign up.
Looking at his unkempt brows, I find myself wondering when he last looked in the mirror; and then I realise that I have made a huge mistake. It seems that not shutting the door in Pedro’s face, means that I am interested.
"I am afraid my husband is in charge of car business," I say politely. But his eyes light up and he promises to return to talk to the man of the house.
So he comes on a daily basis but, as my hubby works long, unpredictable hours, he is never at home. Over the next week, we get to know Pedro so well that my children shout his name when they see him walking up the path. By the sixth visit, I have run out of excuses and cannot work out how to put him off.
But then I suddenly remember why the name of the garage is so familiar. I step over the threshold and, lowering my voice so the children cannot hear, I whisper into the hapless salesman’s ear, "Isn't that the garage where the owner was murdered by his scorned wife twenty years ago?" Clearly astonished that I have both remembered such an event and made the connection, Pedro turns on his heel and is never seen again.
