(My mom and I are at home when someone knocks on our door rhythmically, as though they are a friend or relative. My mom has several health issues that tend to make her sleep in a lot, so she’s still in her night clothes. Since the person knocking tapped a little tune on our door, she figures it’s someone we know, so she answers the door in her nightshirt. It’s a guy in a business uniform for a cable service. He looks my mom up and down with a sneer, his arms crossed.)

Cable Guy: “Is there a problem here?”

Mom: “Uh, excuse me? No, there is not. Can I help you?”

(He puts on a massive sales-pitch grin, readying his pitch:)

Cable Guy: “Well, ma’am, we at [Cable Company #1] are going around to customers of [Cable Company #2] to let them know about [some malarkey about a sale or something].”

Mom: *holds up her hand* “I’m going to stop you right there.” *she gestures to the obvious “NO SOLICITING” sign on our door* “Did you not see that?”

Cable Guy: “Well, ma’am, I’m not soliciting; I’m just trying to do you a favour—”

Mom: “Yeah, that’s soliciting.” *closes the door in his face*

(I get a call from my husband saying that we will have a friend from out of town staying over for a weekend. We have just moved into a new house and do not have furniture for the guest bedroom yet. I head down to a furniture store to purchase a bedroom set. Immediately after I enter, a salesman approaches me and asks what I’m looking for. This particular company’s employees work on commission, so it’s not unusual.)

Me: “We have guests coming in two days and I need a full bedroom set: queen-sized bed frame, mattress, dresser, nightstand, etc. Bedding would be great, too, so I don’t have to visit another store!”

Salesman: “Perfect, anything particular in mind?”

Me: “Well, since it’s for a guest room, I’d like to stay on the cheaper side. It may only be used once or twice in the next year.”

Salesman: “Okay, great. Over here, we have our [Fancy Descriptive Name #1] set; it includes a dresser, armoire, king-sized headboard and footboard, frame, and two nightstands. It comes in dark wood or white. Which color would you prefer?”

(I look over at the set he is referencing, and the price tag is well over $8,000 — without the mattress!)

Me: “I’m sorry, but as I said, it’s for a guest room, and I want to stay on the cheaper side. I’m pretty sure this is the most expensive set in here, and, as I said, I need a queen-sized set. King would be too wide for the room with the dresser.”

Salesman: “No worries! I also have this [Fancy Descriptive Name #2] set that comes with a dresser, double headboard and footboard, frame, and one nightstand. This one is only available in light-wood, but it’s a great set and sure to brighten up the dull house.”

(Not once have I described my home to him, and as a matter of fact, it is a gorgeous house with oak trim and moulding, Berber carpets, hardwood, and slate tile. The price tag on the second set is $3,500.)

Me: “Okay… So, again, I need queen-sized, and on the cheaper end. It doesn’t have to be solid wood. I’m fine with an MDF (Medium Density Fiberboard) set. I’d like to stay under $1,500.”

Salesman: “I don’t think I can work with that budget and get you something nice. How about this?”

(He shows me a single bed with an ornate canopy frame and marble-embedded dresser trim.)

Me: “Thanks for your time.”

(I start walking away but spot the perfect set tucked away in a corner. Clearance pricing, queen-sized bed, dresser, and nightstand. It’s very close to my total budget, as I’d need a mattress still, but looks to be well worth the price.)

Salesman: “Ah, that set is on clearance due to being the floor display. You don’t want that; it’ll look cheap.”

Me: “I’ll take it. What is the cheapest mattress you have?”

Salesman: “No, really. You don’t want that set, unless you can’t afford something nicer.”

Me: “Thanks for your opinion, but I’d like this one. Again, what’s your cheapest mattress?”

Salesman: “If you insist! Our [fancy memory foam pillow top mattress] is on sale right now, for only $1,199!”

Me: “I’ll look myself, thanks. Ring me up for the bedroom set and I’ll let you know which mattress I decide on.”

(I find a good quality mattress on sale for only a couple hundred dollars, and it seems to be the cheapest one. I return to the salesman, who is watching me like a hawk, and point to the one I want. He tries to upsell some more, but finally understands I’ll have none of it. We are completing the order on the till and he gives me my total, several thousand dollars higher than my math says it should be.)

Me: “Uh, why is the price so high? It should be $3,200 less than that.”

Salesman: “Oh, I figured you’d rather have a brand new bedroom set instead of the floor model, and I added a [slightly higher quality, but double the price] mattress, instead, and gave you 10% off.”

Me: “I want the items I picked out. That’s all I’ll pay for. Is there a manager around?”

Salesman: “I’m the manager on duty, currently! So, debit or credit? If you put it on your [Store] credit card, you don’t have to pay for a whole year, or you can finance it over three years and get the nicer set I know you want but can’t afford! I know it’s tough right now, but financing is the best way to get nice things. Wouldn’t want your guests thinking you’re poor, huh?” *snickers*

(I’m now in total shock and disgust, but noticing the time, I realize that every other furniture store is already closed, and I live 45 minutes away.)

Me: “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. Either you can shut your mouth and sell me what I asked for, and stop insulting me, or you can get another salesperson to serve me and get the commission. Your choice.”

Salesman: “All I was saying is—”

Me: “THANK YOU!”

(I walk away and find another salesperson, a woman, standing by the door. I explain what I need, show her what I want, and she rings me up.)

Saleswoman: “Great! Will that be on your [Store] credit card?”

Me: “No, and not interested. I think this will be the last time I shop here.”

Saleswoman: “I’m sorry to hear that. I put a 10% off coupon on your entire purchase for the hassle. The total is [amount less than I anticipated].”

Me: “Great. Debit, please.”

(I slide my card into the reader. The saleswoman starts a little spiel and mentions that my order will be ready to be picked up on the following Monday.)

Me: “Wait, what? I need it for this weekend. Now. It’s Thursday night; my guests arrive tomorrow afternoon. I have my truck, and my dad is bringing another from [Town an hour away] right now. He’s almost here! Everything I want is sitting right there; that mattress is in stock!”

Saleswoman: “Actually, that mattress is sold to another customer and awaiting pickup on [date two weeks from today]. We would have to bring you one from the warehouse, and it will get here on Monday.”

Me: “Can’t you sell me that one, and keep the other for the other customer? That’s two weeks away; that’s plenty of time.”

Saleswoman: “I’m sorry, no. I can’t do that. That’s the last one we have, and the warehouse is out.”

Me: “WHAT AM I PAYING FOR, THEN? You know what? Never mind. Forget it. I’m done.”

(I walked out, and both salespeople stood there looking confused as to why I was so mad. I checked the local classifieds on my phone and found the EXACT set in great shape, with a brand new mattress, for $500. The best part? The seller lived five doors down from me.)

(I’m at home, having dinner, when the doorbell rings. Because I am expecting a package, I rush to the door. Two men are in front of my door. Relevant facts: I have my own company, located in another building, and I’ve been conned at the door once before and therefore never buy at the door, no matter how wonderful things sound.)

Man #1: “Hello, am I at [Company with a name quite similar to my company’s, but just not right]?”

Me: “You mean [My Company]?”

Man #1: “Ah, yes. Sorry for mispronouncing it. And are you the owner?”

Me: “Yes, I am.”

Man #1: “Well, we noticed that you still have a private electricity account on this address. Did you know you can also have a business account?”

Me: *already knowing where this is going* “Oh, but I’m not working in this building.”

Man #1: “But your registration says.”

Me: “Yeah, but it’s not here, and I have nothing to say about the electricity of the other building, so I have no interest.”

(This goes back and forth at least two more times.)

Man #2: *finally speaking up* “But you could save a lot of money!”

Me: “Yeah, but I’m satisfied with what I have, so I’m not interested.”

Man #2: “But why are you not interested?”

Me: *I feel annoyed by that question, but try to keep on smiling* “Let me put it this way: I don’t buy at the door.”

Man #2: “Well, we can also do this at the table!”

Me: *now truly annoyed, but still smiling* “Yeah… No, thanks. Not interested. Good night.”

([Man #2] turned around in a huff — he even released a “tss” sound — and left, followed by [Man #1], who remained silent. I don’t know how they expect to make sales by getting offended if someone says, “No.”)

(Sacramento is pretty LGBT-friendly and the community I live in is somewhat known for LGBT couples. I, however, am a heterosexual cis female homeowner. One day a rather cutely-dressed girl rings my doorbell. She starts a sales pitch for a carpet-cleaning service. I try to let door-to-door salespeople down easy. I gesture to the floor she can see, which is a vinyl plank floor that looks like wood.)

Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any carpeting. Thanks.”

Salesgirl: “Oh, we don’t do just carpeting.”

(She then begins the sales pitch for furniture cleaning. And now I’m done. I cut into her speech.)

Me: “No, thanks.”

(She continues to try at another angle, listing other items for cleaning.)

Me: “No. Thank you.”

(I go to shut the door on her. She strikes a pose and pouts.)

Salesgirl: “But don’t you think I’m cute?”

(I’m floored. I’m completely dumbstruck.)

Me: “Yes, but no, thanks.”

(I did think she was a cute girl, but just because she’s cute doesn’t mean I’m going to buy a floor cleaning service!)

(A lawn care salesman knocks on our door and my mom answers it.)

Salesman: “So… You probably know why I’m here.” *gestures to the front lawn, which has a patch or two of clover and some crabgrass*

Mom: *raising one eyebrow* “Excuse me?”

(The salesman launches into his pitch. After explaining his company a little bit:)

Salesman: “So, which company does your lawn?”

Mom: “We do.”

Salesman: “Really? Are you sure you don’t want professionals to take care of it? It’s not looking so great.”

Mom: “No, thank you.” *closes the door, turns to me* “Even if I did want a professional lawn care service, I wouldn’t want one that insulted me the moment I opened the door!”