The Wanderlust Lady and the Door to Door Salesman - 4

August 30th, 2012

Stan

I was fed up. I’d been round the houses in the area I'd been

assigned, and had only made one sale so far. It was cold, wet and I felt

like I'd do anything for a nice hot cup of coffee.

 

The next house I came to was not at all what you'd call potentially

rich pickings. A small semi detached bungalow, but it was shabby, the

paint peeling and the hedge uncut for some time. I considered skipping

it, but then thought, "Who knows, maybe this one will be lucky for

me."

 

I knocked at the door, and waited and waited. Finally deciding there

was nobody home, I took out my little pad and wrote - “house appears

empty at 11 a.m. Very shoddy look.”

 

Then just as I was starting back down the path, I noticed a twitch at

the curtains. So somebody was there after all. I went back to the door

and knocked even louder, and sure enough, the door did open this time,

although only a crack.

 

"What do you want?" said an old lady in a very aggressive tone.

"I just want a minute of time to talk to you and show you some

things I'm selling," I said, in what I hoped was my most persuasive

voice.

 

"I don't need or want anything," she said - and started to close the

door, but I remembered my training, and quickly said, "I couldn't come

and use your toilet, could I? I'm absolutely bursting."

 

She hesitated for just a moment and then said, "You can go to the

public loo by the library."

 

"Please. It will only take a minute."

 

And somehow she relented. I couldn't believe my luck. So the door

was opened and I was gestured into the house. It was dark, smelled of

damp and neglect. I was having second thoughts about whether I

actually wanted to use the loo in this place. But she was telling me the

toilet was first on the right so I left my big bag by the front door, and

went where I was directed.

 

When I got into the loo, I thought about how I was supposed to use

this time to write down what the house had in it - but without even

looking, I knew for a fact that this place was a no hoper for my boss. I

flushed the toilet - and went back to the front door.

 

"You're soaked to the skin," said the lady, who now that I could see

her properly wasn't all that old. She had long grey straight hair, and

wore old sloppy clothing - but she was able to walk without difficulty

and looked healthy enough.

 

"Yeah, well, it is raining you know."

"Why don't you call it a day," she said. "Go home and have a hot

bath and get into some dry clothes. You'll catch pneumonia if you keep

on going around like that."

 

"I can't," I explained. "A bunch of us gets dropped off in a locality

at 9.30 each morning and picked up again at 6 p.m. that night. I have to

spend the day selling."

 

"And have you done well today?" she asked.

 

"No, as a matter of fact, and you haven't helped. You didn't even let

me show you what I have on sale."

 

"Why waste your time and mine when I know I don't want the tat

that you guys sell."

 

"Well, I guess maybe I was hoping for a little time to sit down. You

couldn't sell me a cup of coffee," I put in - hoping she'd give me one

without having to pay for it.

 

"I don't drink coffee," she said, "but I guess you can sit for awhile.

It isn't much of a day to be out in. I normally spend my days walking

the streets and parks, but today it even seemed too much for me." So I

took off my wet jacket and she put it on a straight chair. I sat down on

an old but comfortable stuffed chair.

 

"Do you drink tea?" I put in hopefully.

 

"Okay, you win," she said with a grin. "I'll make you a cup of tea.

But I don't have any milk or sugar. You'll have to drink it black or not

at all."

 

"I've never had it black," I said, "but just to have something hot

inside me will make a huge difference.”

The old lady went off into her kitchen to put the kettle on. I had a

look around the room we were sitting in. It wasn't actually dirty - but it

sure wasn't clean either. There were no ornaments - no TV, no stereo

system. I couldn't even see a radio. About the only furniture in the

room apart from the three piece suite was a bookcase, which was full -

top to bottom with thick hard cover books which looked very

uninviting from my point of view. As I was waiting, I got out my sheet

that I had started earlier and ticked, "no" to each of the categories that I

was supposed to report on.

 

The old lady came back in and caught me just as I was putting my

pad away.

 

"You writing notes on me or something?" she said, suddenly very

aggressive. "Are you here to spy on me? Is this idea that you're selling

stuff just a front and you're really from the social or somebody like

that?"

 

"No. I just have to make a list of the houses I visit for my boss.

That's all," I said quickly - trying to calm her down so at least she'd let

me drink my tea.

 

"Why does your boss need a list of the people you visit? That

sounds very suss to me."

 

"Oh, it's part of the job," I added. "We all have to do it. My boss

gets paid by companies who are selling stuff and need information on

who has or needs things like stereos and TV's and then they find out

who the likely customers are that way."

 

"Nonsense," she said.

 

 

"No really," I put in. "My boss told me that. I fill in a form for each

house and then she gets the forms at the end of the day, and if the

information is complete and of value, I get an extra fiver."

 

"How stupid are you?" asked the woman, as I at last was given my

tea and allowed to take small sips of the very hot drink, which to me

was not at all tempting.

 

"They're using you," she said. "Surely you can see that much.

You're doing the scouting for people who are looking for likely hits for

thieving. Well I can tell you that you don't need to fill out one of those

for me. I haven't got a thing in here worth stealing as you can see for

yourself."

 

"No, that's not right. It doesn't have anything to do with robbing

people."

 

"What makes you so sure of that?"

 

"My boss is just an ordinary lady."

 

"Well for your information, kid, there've been several small

robberies in this neighbourhood over the last month or so. We were

sent a note through our doors by the police to tell us to look out for

strangers in the neighbourhood, and to let them know if we were

worried. I have a good mind to call them right now and tell them about

you."

 

"I haven't done anything," I said, on my feet now, and getting ready

to grab my coat and bag and get out.

 

"Sit down. I don't think you're the one who does the stealing. You're

just the bozo that they're using to provide those who do the stealing

with inside information. What sorts of things are you supposed to tick

on your list?"

 

"TV's, stereos, ornaments - stuff like that."

 

"And are you supposed to tell them if a house is empty? I saw you

writing something when you were leaving here before. Was that saying

that the place was empty?"

 

"Yeah," I said, "but that doesn't mean that I was telling them it was

worth robbing."

 

"But they could want an empty house for another reason - maybe

somebody needs a place to stay in for a few days while they're laying

low."

 

"You read too many thrillers," I said. "Why do you have to make

this into something wrong and awful when it's just a simple way of

getting information?"

 

"I've an idea. I wonder if you've got guts enough to agree to it. Let's

use me as a decoy. You send them in a sheet on me making them think

I'm ripe for stealing from - and if I'm right - they'll come and see what

they can get. Then we'll have something to give the police. You can

never tell, there might even be a reward in it for you."

 

I got up. "I don't know. I don't want to get involved in anything like

that. Thanks for the tea, but I 'll be going now."

 

"Let's say that I buy something from you - something very small,

mind you. And say that you see me get my huge roll of £20's from a

coffee canister in my kitchen. You can say that there's nothing in the

house to steal, but that I've loads of cash."

"And do you?" I asked, with a grin.

 

"Stupid boy. Do you think I'm going to tell you that if it was really

true. It's only because I can see how dumb you really are that I'm

giving you this opportunity to do something good for the community."

 

"I'll lose my job."

 

"And would that be such a big loss?"

 

"I can't keep a job. I've had 20 or so in the last year. This is my last

chance."

 

"And how much do you make?"

 

"None of your business."

 

"I know that, but if you're so keen on keeping this job - it must be

more than you could get from social security. Or do you claim that as

well?" she said, responding no doubt to the expression on my face.

 

"So what's in this for me, if I go along with your scheme to try to

trap them?" I asked, sitting down again.

 

"Feeling like you've done something right for once, maybe. Why

don't you get a job in a supermarket or some place like that? Stacking

shelves maybe. Or in a factory or something."

 

"Nobody wants to hire somebody who hasn't held down a job in the

past. They don't even give me an interview. This was the only thing

that I could get into and I don't want to give it up now."

 

"Well, just for fun, let me run this plan of mine past you. You'd put

on your note that stuff I said about how I had lots of money hidden in a

container. And you would add that although the house was pretty

worthless, I had admitted, which I did, that I was out of it a lot. And

you maybe could even add that you noticed a spare key under a flower

pot in the front yard. Now if your bunch are honest, as you think they

are, none of that will interest them. But if they're crooks, like I think

they are, they'll hotfoot it here, next opportunity, to get my money with

virtually no risk to them."

 

"But I don't see how they could get caught doing that?"

 

"Well, I think I'd have to tip off the cops that I've set this trap. I

don't have to mention you specifically. I don't know your name - so

how can I dob you in? Then for the next week or so, the cops would

keep an eye on the place, especially during the day when I was out -

and they could catch them red handed."

 

"So if it goes according to your plan, I would be needed as a

witness, to tell my part in this - and then I'd lose my job, and I'm back

to square one."

 

"What if I offered you a place to stay and helped you get a job?

What if I promised you that if you do this thing for me and we get the

baddies, that I'll do my best to see that your life gets turned around?"

 

"Why would you do that for me?"

 

"Why indeed. Because suddenly my life seems to have something

interesting in it for once. Because maybe I think that I can make

something out of you - and as a result feel better myself. Maybe

because it would give me enormous satisfaction to say that I'd

outwitted some petty criminals."

 

"Why should I trust you? You could say that I was part of the ring

and I'd end up in jail too."

"Why am I trusting you now? I'm alone with you in my house. You

could rob me, kill me even. I don't have any relatives, not even any

friends, so nobody would discover my death for ages. Yet there's

something about you that reminds me of myself. I think that maybe we

should trust each other. What do you say?"