Tension: The door-to-door irritant
The 1950s saw the birth of the door-todoor
salesman: bibles, encyclopedias, aluminum
Alzheimer's pot sets, a Fuller Brush
or a bomb shelter. I wonder how these people
were received back then? I would hazard
that they were a welcome addition to the
day. It was a different time in the '50s: people
were enthralled with Elvis, hoola-hoops
and an endless array of new consumer products.
Unlike us, they weren't yet jaded with
the over bombardment of media and ads.
They didn't have the Internet and they were
actively looking for new ways to suck dirt
off of the floor, to store food, to carpet over
their hardwood floors, to put up bright yellow
flower-patterned wallpaper in their
kitchens and pink tiles in their washrooms.
Now, in an age where we are continually bombarded with advertisements, I find these ‘visits' quite irritating. We are literally exposed to thousands of ads each day. Ads telling us how much we suck, and what we need to buy to make it better. The big difference between the exposure of advertisements and door-to-door salespeople is that with ads, we have a choice. I can look, avert, buy-in or sell-out — it is up to me. With the sales peddler, one is confronted, bullied, irritated and pushed into situations often out of our control. Yes, one is free to just close the door, but we have been confronted and the emotions involved with confrontation have been deployed.
As I write this, a salesperson is knocking on my door. I saw her approaching and dashed into the house from my sunnysnowy- slushy perch on the porch with a feeling of dread. She saw me too, and is no doubt irritated that I refuse to answer the door. She is irritated, I am irritated — something is wrong here!
A small part of me holds sympathy for people forced into thankless jobs like doorto- door sales and telemarketing. Many people are scrambling to make ends meet. A larger part of me finds this sort of pressure sales irritating, rude and imposing! There is a commonality to the salesperson that reeks of effort: honed scripts, the desire to take advantage of fear and ignorance, and the ability to create need where none exists. This seems to cover most of our modern-day peddlers: insurance sales, house repairs, real estate and, the most imposing (to me), the religion peddler. These people actually come to your door and tell you that your belief system is wrong, and that you must follow their belief system, their way of thought, their dogma and their overbearing way of life. It isn't enough that I have to listen to a canned speech about salvation and cheap suits; no, these religion peddlers actually think that they are doing me a favour!
An odd bit of irony: the only day of the year that we not only encourage people to knock on our door, but we reward them for doing so... Halloween.
Door-to-door peddlers are trained to sell; we are not trained to resist. We don't need a guilt trip to give money to a charity or to buy a box of gross cookies. We don't have to get up from the couch while nursing a hangover and watching Judge Judy. We don't need new windows, or insurance, or our gutters cleaned, and maybe I want to burn in Hell! Maybe, just maybe, I want my home to be the only place in the entire world where I can control my environment!
The imposition of sales goes beyond the home in our society. Even in the halls of Fanshawe, walking down the sunny hall in front of the bookstore, there are often people selling one thing or another. That is fine, but do you have to stop me, confront me and pitch to me as I go about my business? My smile and polite ‘No, thanks' is just a ruse; inside, I am seething with irritation and feel like my personal space was just thoroughly invaded.
Some are just doing a job that they don't even want to do. Some are extremely passionate in a cause or belief. Some are raising money for a class or a club. What they all have in common is that they are setting out to confront. Their goal is to talk you into something on their terms. They initiate the confrontation and leave little room to escape. I especially love when you open the door to a child selling one thing or another while their mom waves at you from the sidewalk. I am not enough of a curmudgeon yet to tell a child to eff off, even if they are irritating me. But that waving, grinning mom on the sidewalk — she has it coming.
I feel enough pressure with the busker in front of the liquor store, or the homeless guy asking for money on the street corner, or every time I open my mailbox (both snail and email), or walking the halls of Fanshawe, or downtown. Is a moment to our self too much to ask? Can one not find solace in a capitalist society?
There is a piece of legislation in the United States called the Green River Ordinance that prohibits door-to-door solicitation. It roughly states that it is illegal to sell products or services door-to-door without gaining permission beforehand.
This has yet to find footing in Canada to date, but I have a solution: we should take all the sales peddlers and give them a Dickie Dee ice cream cart! Have them dingle and jingle up and down the streets to draw out the lonely, the windowless, and the sinners. They get into shape, and only those who are interested are involved — oh, and it would be hilarious.
Editorial opinions or comments expressed in this online edition of Interrobang newspaper reflect the views of the writer and are not those of the Interrobang or the Fanshawe Student Union. The Interrobang is published weekly by the Fanshawe Student Union at 1001 Fanshawe College Blvd., P.O. Box 7005, London, Ontario, N5Y 5R6 and distributed through the Fanshawe College community. Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters are subject to editing and should be emailed. All letters must be accompanied by contact information. Letters can also be submitted online by clicking here.
Now, in an age where we are continually bombarded with advertisements, I find these ‘visits' quite irritating. We are literally exposed to thousands of ads each day. Ads telling us how much we suck, and what we need to buy to make it better. The big difference between the exposure of advertisements and door-to-door salespeople is that with ads, we have a choice. I can look, avert, buy-in or sell-out — it is up to me. With the sales peddler, one is confronted, bullied, irritated and pushed into situations often out of our control. Yes, one is free to just close the door, but we have been confronted and the emotions involved with confrontation have been deployed.
As I write this, a salesperson is knocking on my door. I saw her approaching and dashed into the house from my sunnysnowy- slushy perch on the porch with a feeling of dread. She saw me too, and is no doubt irritated that I refuse to answer the door. She is irritated, I am irritated — something is wrong here!
A small part of me holds sympathy for people forced into thankless jobs like doorto- door sales and telemarketing. Many people are scrambling to make ends meet. A larger part of me finds this sort of pressure sales irritating, rude and imposing! There is a commonality to the salesperson that reeks of effort: honed scripts, the desire to take advantage of fear and ignorance, and the ability to create need where none exists. This seems to cover most of our modern-day peddlers: insurance sales, house repairs, real estate and, the most imposing (to me), the religion peddler. These people actually come to your door and tell you that your belief system is wrong, and that you must follow their belief system, their way of thought, their dogma and their overbearing way of life. It isn't enough that I have to listen to a canned speech about salvation and cheap suits; no, these religion peddlers actually think that they are doing me a favour!
An odd bit of irony: the only day of the year that we not only encourage people to knock on our door, but we reward them for doing so... Halloween.
Door-to-door peddlers are trained to sell; we are not trained to resist. We don't need a guilt trip to give money to a charity or to buy a box of gross cookies. We don't have to get up from the couch while nursing a hangover and watching Judge Judy. We don't need new windows, or insurance, or our gutters cleaned, and maybe I want to burn in Hell! Maybe, just maybe, I want my home to be the only place in the entire world where I can control my environment!
The imposition of sales goes beyond the home in our society. Even in the halls of Fanshawe, walking down the sunny hall in front of the bookstore, there are often people selling one thing or another. That is fine, but do you have to stop me, confront me and pitch to me as I go about my business? My smile and polite ‘No, thanks' is just a ruse; inside, I am seething with irritation and feel like my personal space was just thoroughly invaded.
Some are just doing a job that they don't even want to do. Some are extremely passionate in a cause or belief. Some are raising money for a class or a club. What they all have in common is that they are setting out to confront. Their goal is to talk you into something on their terms. They initiate the confrontation and leave little room to escape. I especially love when you open the door to a child selling one thing or another while their mom waves at you from the sidewalk. I am not enough of a curmudgeon yet to tell a child to eff off, even if they are irritating me. But that waving, grinning mom on the sidewalk — she has it coming.
I feel enough pressure with the busker in front of the liquor store, or the homeless guy asking for money on the street corner, or every time I open my mailbox (both snail and email), or walking the halls of Fanshawe, or downtown. Is a moment to our self too much to ask? Can one not find solace in a capitalist society?
There is a piece of legislation in the United States called the Green River Ordinance that prohibits door-to-door solicitation. It roughly states that it is illegal to sell products or services door-to-door without gaining permission beforehand.
This has yet to find footing in Canada to date, but I have a solution: we should take all the sales peddlers and give them a Dickie Dee ice cream cart! Have them dingle and jingle up and down the streets to draw out the lonely, the windowless, and the sinners. They get into shape, and only those who are interested are involved — oh, and it would be hilarious.
Editorial opinions or comments expressed in this online edition of Interrobang newspaper reflect the views of the writer and are not those of the Interrobang or the Fanshawe Student Union. The Interrobang is published weekly by the Fanshawe Student Union at 1001 Fanshawe College Blvd., P.O. Box 7005, London, Ontario, N5Y 5R6 and distributed through the Fanshawe College community. Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters are subject to editing and should be emailed. All letters must be accompanied by contact information. Letters can also be submitted online by clicking here.
