I was sitting watching TV and it was closing on noon and I was thinking about what to eat for lunch. The doorbell rang and I got up, irritated a bit, to answer the door.
When I open the door a rather tall, attractive black woman was standing there with a vacuum cleaner in her hand. My first instinct was to close the door. I was trying hard not to be the cranky old man my wife told me I was, so I opened the door wider and was instantly met with a sales pitch.
“Good day, sir!” She began. “Can I take a few minutes of your time to show you our company’s new vacuum cleaner? I………”
“Miss, stop please!” I cut her off. “I’m not interested in buying a vacuum cleaner not today not ever!”
“But sir, it will only take up a few minutes of your time.” And……….”
“I’m sorry!” I said, cutting her off short again. “You’re just be wasting your time.”
“Please sir, it’s my first day. It would do me a great deal of credit if I could just come into the house. I’ll be able to put your name down and show my boss I’ve had been showing the new machine.” She said, with a pleading tone.
I noted her cream-colored skirt, tight-fitting white blouse and long legs and figured my lunch could wait. I stepped back to allow the woman to come into the living room.
I’m a dirty old man, I suppose, because my gaze went directly to her ample, broad posterior. I’m 5’9” and figured her to be 5’11” and her bubbled ass was well proportioned to her size.
“My name is Cynthia.” she told me. “May I ask yours, sir?”
“I’m Don.” I replied. “Don Sampson.”
“Well, this is our new millennia vacuum cleaner. It comes with 15 attachments and with those attachments it will clean every nook and cranny in your house.” She started her sales pitch again, pulling the cord from the vacuum and looking around for an outlet.
I pointed underneath the TV and sat down in my leather recliner. I smiled when she bent over in front of me to plug the vacuum into the outlet.
“You know Cynthia,” I said. “I hope you won’t think I’m being forward but you are a very attractive young woman. How old are you?”
“Thank you! I just turned 32.” She replied. “Is the lady of the house at home? She may be very interested in seeing this.”
“No. She’s away for a couple of days visiting the kids.” I replied. “It’s just me and this great big lonely house.” The house was only 1200 square feet.
“I’ll be right back!” She chirped, moving towards the front door. “I just need to grab a box. It won’t take a moment.”
I was regretting letting her in the house, but figured, what else had I to do with my day and she seemed to be a pleasant young lady. She certainly was good-looking. A real treat to look at!
Returning to the living room, she spent the next hour and 10 minutes showing me all 15 attachments and what they could all do. After doing so, she asked if she could take a seat on the sofa. So seated, she took out a brown, leather folder. When she opened it up, it contained what looked like order forms.
“Tell me, Cynthia,” I queried. “Are you married?”
“Yes. I am. Going on nine years.” She replied.
“Are you happy?” I queried.
“That’s a bit personal isn’t it, Mr. Sampson.” She replied timidly.
“Just wanting to get to know you a bit.” I defended. “What does your husband do?”
“He’s in the Navy. He’s been out to sea for the month.” She answered and added. “Five more months to go!”
She said those last words with a roll her eyes and a tone displaying dismay.
“You have any children?” I continued the interrogation.
“Not yet! But we’re trying.”
“I bet your husband is happy about that.” I observed. “You know what they say about practice. It makes perfect, in y’all’s case, babies!”
“Mr. Sampson, you’re embarrassing me.” She said, her tone showing a bit of girlish shyness.”
“You are getting ready to tell me about financing and such, I suppose?”
Indeed she was. She spent the next 25 minutes going over all of the financing, monthly payments and such.
“So, what do you think, Mr. Sampson?” She asked, finishing up her little spiel.
“I think you are a very attractive woman, Cynthia. Your long legs are very shapely.” I said, then, asked. “Can I offer you something to drink…….. coffee, Coke or tea?”
“I’m not supposed to accept anything like that, but a Coke would be good.” She answered. “I’ve been talking for a long time.”
I went to the kitchen, poured a Coke over ice, returned to the living room, handed it to her as she sat on the sofa, and then, disappeared into my bedroom for a few moments. A plan had materialized. Opening the wall safe, I retrieved eight $100 bills. I returned to the living room and placed the neat stack of bills on the coffee table and sat down.
Cynthia’s gaze shifted between the money and me
“So, you’ve changed your mind. How much are you going to put down, Mr. Sampson?” She asked.
“I told you, Miss Cynthia, I am not interested in purchasing a vacuum.” I stated.
I watched the girl squirm. She sipped the Coke as her head moved aimlessly, her eyes studying various items in the room.
“What is the money for, sir?” She inquired, sheepishly.
“For you, dear lady?” I replied, then, asked. “How many of those over priced things have you sold today? You should have something to show for your hard work, to buy you pretty things. And, please, call me Don.”
“How much is that……….Don?” She asked, nodding at the table.
“$800.” I answered.