Tuesday, October 20, 2009

No More Popcorn!

*Ding Dong*

I inwardly groaned when I saw Blake, who is the Annoying Neighborhood Kid.

He was standing there holding some papers and when I came to the door, he held them up so that they were covering his face.

“Popcorn! I’m selling popcorn! Look here and find which one you want,” he instructed me as he pulled open the screen door.

That’s another thing: the kid totally just opens our door and walks in. He’s done this on more than one occasion. I hate that he does this because suppose I was walking around in the buff? Not that I ever PLAN to walk around in the buff but I’d really like to have that option open, you know? Yeah, I could just lock the door but still…

“Actually Blake,” I said calmly pushing him back out. “I already bought popcorn from another Boy Scout.”

It had happened a few days before. A kid came by dressed in the uniform and he had silently handed over the popcorn pamphlet.

“I’m selling popcorn,” the Boy Scout whisperer said. “Would you like to buy some?”

I had to crane my neck down in order to hear him.

“Well, what do you recommend?” I had asked nicely. I really didn’t want any popcorn but I always try to buy at least one thing when they drop by. I don’t want to be known as the Cheapo on the Block you know.

The boy looked gobsmacked as though he had never been asked the question before. “Um,” he said, color appearing at his cheeks. “Um.” He twisted his fingers nervously.

“It’s okay. I’ll find something,” I said gently. I was a shy kid too. In fact, I’m a shy adult now.

I ended up getting the $15 container of the chocolate drizzled popcorn. That was the cheapest they had. There was even a $50 barrel of popcorn and I nearly passed out when I saw the price. Hello Boy Scouts, we’re in a recession.

Anyhow, Blake didn’t seem to comprehend that I already bought some popcorn.

Because he went, “Well, try this one!” and he tried to open the door again.

I held it closed. “No thank you, Blake. As I said before, I already bought popcorn.”

“Get some more!” Blake said cheerfully.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds and counted to three. What I wanted to do was shout, “You know what, Blake? I gave you my answer already so piss off.” But you can’t talk to children like that. It’ll like, hurt their psyche or something.

“Blake,” I said slowly. “I don’t need anymore popcorn. But I’ll give you credit: you are persistent. You’d make a good salesman.”

Blake’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. “WHAT did you call me?” he demanded, looking aghast.

Uh oh. Danger, Will Robinson, danger.

“I called your persistent. It means you don’t give up easily.”

Blake didn’t look as though he believed me. “I’m telling! You called me a name! Name calling is wrong! I’m telling!” And then he darted off towards his house.

“I was complimenting you!” I shouted to his retreating back.

Oh well. I never got a phone call from his parents so I imagine they explained that I wasn’t being mean.

But hey! Note to self: if I ever want to get Blake to run away, call him persistent.

No comments:

Post a Comment