Thursday, October 28, 2004

Under Siege

Every couple of weeks or so it appears, on the doormat, in it's polybag wrapping, looking up at me, waving:

"Hello. I'm here again. Yes, we both know you dont want me here but what are you going to do about it?"

The Kleeneze brochure is here again.

And so starts my misery.

I've tried telling them that I have no need for a porcelain digging dog, a gourmet cheese mill or any of the other tat that I am being offered. I actually told the portly woman a good few months ago that I would have no further requirement for their brochure. She couldn't believe that I didn't want it, it came as a bombshell to her - as though I'd insulted her, all her family and nicked her Grandads walking stick. I could see the disappointment as she looked me in the eye. She believed in this stuff and believed that she was spreading the word and making the world a better place.

But I was insistent - she even wrote it down in her little notebook as I told her. I watched her do it. She wasn't going to write anything down - she just said 'ok love' when I asked her not to deliver. But I know that 'ok love' meant nothing and wouldn't stand up in a court of law.

I asked her how she would know not to deliver to me and she said that she'd remember. I wasn't so sure and asked her to make it a bit more official, anything would do - so she just wrote my house number on a blank page and put a cross next to it, then showed it to me. It was futile gesture that proved nothing but it made me feel better anyway.

The reappearance of the brochure though means that the big black cross against my house number in her notebook doesn't signify not to deliver to me. I wonder what it does mean then. Maybe I wont be getting a visit from Santa. Maybe it means carry on delivering with extra vigour and especially to this house. Maybe it means that this person isn't in during the day so please burgle his house.

Other times I simply just place the brochure back outside the house, but this always seems to coincide with a turn in the weather and they are then reluctant to remove their paper mache belongings, so then I have to put it in the bin.

Not being in when they return doesn't help either, this just starts a whole new chain of little notes posted through the door saying 'sorry we missed you, we will return to collect your order soon', as though we are old friends. Trying to do the marketing thing on me now too eh? Play with my mind? I'm not falling for that old trick. I'm not surprised you missed me, I'm at work during the day - like the vast majority of the population.

So now I have a brochure in the house that I didn't want and can't get rid of, and a steady stream of notes being put through the door wanting it back.

I'm under siege.