Dinks.
No matter how you cut it, my wife and I are dinks. (Dual income, no kids.) (At least for the time being. We are working on the kids thing, though. Anyway…)
We also live in a small bedroom town for the St. Louis metropolitan area. Our town only has a population of ~8,000 that is in the midst of the culture clash of the German-descended farmers, whose families have lived here for generations, and the younger, transplanted executives who work in the city.
The “small town” feel can easily lull you into a false sense of security. Last week, that security was not quite shattered as much as heavily bent. The first inkling anything was the matter was during dinner Monday evening when the doorbell rang. It was one of the town’s fine law enforcement officials canvassing the neighborhood. Turns out two houses a block down the street had been broken into and he was asking around if anyone saw anything.
Ok, maybe shattered was the right word. At least concerning Mrs. Counter’s sense of security because we soon entered the market for a security system for the house. The next day, Mrs. Counter had appointments lined up for four different home security firms.
Now, let me give you some background. Mrs. Counter works in the health care industry. She is use to dealing with Doctors with god complexes, unruly patients, touchy co-workers and some people that can only be described as plain nuts. She is also the schmoozer and the people person in our relationship while I am more reserved (shy) and the numbers guru. She is also the master negotiator.
The first salesman we had out was extraordinary. He went over his products well, made suggestions on what to set-up where, took time to talk with both of us and to answer our questions.
Enter Salesman #2. He arrived early. Not a problem but I had to cut short walking DoggieCounter around the backyard for his evening “constitutional”. Traffic congestion also caused Mrs. Counter to be a little late, as she had not arrived home yet. Again, not a problem as I took #2 on a quick tour of the house, pointing out entryways and vulnerable windows. Mrs. Counter soon arrived home and I filled her in on what we had done so far.
Now, mind you, I was bringing my lovely wife up to speed so she could make an informed decision. I was not doing it to make her “feel included” as this decision is as much hers as it is mine. #2 obviously misread the situation, grossly, as he began to pander to me while blowing off my wife’s questions. “Now don’t lie to me, aren’t you scared to be alone when Mr. Counter is traveling on business?” And so we continued to talk awhile as he tried to “make personal connections” and deride the competition instead of trying to sell his product on its’ merits.
I love my wife. We complement each other well and often know what the other is thinking without have to say a word. As we talked to #2, I could tell my wife was silently screaming, “What a fucking idiot!” all the while maintaining a natural, calm façade. What a woman.
Finally we showed #2 to the door. As I closed the door, I held up my hand to fend off the silent scream that was quickly escaping the Misses. “Honey, let’s not be rude. Let’s at least wait until he’s out of hearing range before we mock him openly.” Mrs. Counter burst out in incredulous laughter. “He never looked me in the eye once! And his breath stunk!"
The moral of this story is clear. If you are trying to sell something, be nice to everyone, because the power to make the final decision might not rest with who you think it does.
Finally, with the visit done, DoggieCounter and I finished our walk so he could finish his #2.