Monday, January 14, 2008

Question.

It's Saturday afternoon, and I'm up to my neck trying to learn the intricacies of "The Settlers of Catan", a board game which I have promised the Turtle that I will go around to his house and play with him and his little Terrapin!!

Knock knock......

A range of thoughts pass through my mind at the speed of light:

Nobody I know knocks so aggressively.
I bet it's Jehovah's witnesses.
I'm not expecting anyone.
Should I ignore it?
Maybe it's a parcel or a delivery?

I get up off my fat arse and look out of the window. I'm (thankfully) an inhabitant of the first floor of my house, so nobody gets to directly look into my living room. I'm looking down on the path to see if someone has given up the ghost, and is leaving. No such luck.

Knock knock.... a bit louder!!

Christ almighty.... I go downstairs and answer the door.

It's a bloody market researcher armed with a clipboard.... "Can you spare 15 minutes?"

I claim to be doing something important upstairs and that I'm not interested.

"Do you work?"

I figure at this point a negative answer would put him off, as anyone trying to sell anything knows automatically they're onto a loser.

"And how old are you?"

I have to think fast... how the hell do I know how old I am?? Just a minute ago I was preoccupied by a computer opponent building roads across the front of my village, and now you want to know how old I am? I blurt out a number that could be correct to within a couple of years either side.

"I don't have anyone in your bracket at the moment, so it'd be useful of you could answer the questions for me"

I tell him that if he tells me the nature of the questions, then perhaps I can decide whether these questions are going to be of any use to me or not. Foolishly of course, I miss the point that it's me that's of interest to him, and not the other way round.

"There are parts about your current gas supplier, about local leisure facilities and leisure breaks, and some about your views on cosmetic procedures.... it'll just take fifteen minutes"

I tell him to come back later, with the full intention of not answering the door. He winces as we finally agree on one o clock on Monday afternoon.

Come Monday afternoon, I'm of course out of the house.

Three o clock Monday afternoon, there's a familiar braying on my front door. I am definitely not answering it. I peer over the window into the garden below to see the questionnaire thwarted, fastening my gate.

It's over, I've won..... He goes next door and I feel somewhat relieved...... but then I see it.....

My heart sinks, as Dawn pulls up outside my house, and in full plain view of the man on the doorstep next door she comes down the garden path and walks straight into the house.

We are still by the front door when there comes the familiar ham-fisted barrage of knocking. I dive around the corner and hide under the kitchen units. Dawn is trapped by the door as the knocking continues. I can hear her giggling as I try to avoid wrapping my hand in the baited mousetrap.

Eventually the questionnaire, thwarted again, disappears, and we are at ease to indulge in making a cup of tea.

It's now half past five, and I am praying he has pissed off home and left me alone..... he has been back no fewer than five times, and I'm not sure the front door will withstand much more.

For all companies wishing to find out about me:

Cosmetic surgery is a load of bollocks.
I don't want to switch gas supplier.
Stick your leisure centre up your arse.
I would never go to Center Parcs - It's centre.... not center, and what the frik is a parc anyway?

5 comments:

  1. That was so funny. I can just imagine the look on your face when you saw Dawn walking towards the door.

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  2. I'll be back later this afternoon.

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  3. I'll be back at the weekend - me and Banksy are having a few days away

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  4. Ho! Ho! How very droll! You're right about "Centre" and also right to cast a sideswipe at "parcs"! Now... to my questions

    1. When is your house insurance due?
    2. Which is your preferred soap powder?
    3. Have you ever made love to a market researcher on the doorstep?

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