Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2292057
A salesman rings the door bell; she lets him in.
The shady-looking salesman sat directly across from me at my kitchen table. I didn’t invite him! He rang the bell and I let him in.
The first thing I noticed was his frayed shirt collar...
“So, it looks like I have just the policy for you,” he said as he pulled rumpled folders out of his shabby briefcase.
“Well, we are very happy with State Farm Insurance,” I said, and added, “I think I'm wasting your time.”
“It's an umbrella policy covering your many needs. Yours is a unique situation.”
I never thought of us as unique.
“How so? Mr. uh. I didn't get your name.”
“Burgeson. Arnold Bergeson at your service.”
“Unique in what way, Mr. Burgeson?”
“Your husband is a postal worker, correct?”
Arnold Bergeson had gunk embedded under his fingernails. Ewe! Why did I let him in?
“Yes, he has been for twenty-one years."
“Ice storms, wind, rain, hurricanes…Well maybe not hurricanes,” he said. “My point is, Burgeson Insurance will cover all of those conditions he may find himself working under and more. Dog bites, rabies…for instance. All under one umbrella policy.”
“So it's your company. Never heard of it.”
“Ah. Oh my. Look at the time,” I lied. “I have an appointment across town in fifteen minutes. So if you don't mind,” I added as I stood up.
“Well, lady, you're missing out on a real deal,” he said as he gathered his things and stood up. “You'll be sorry.”
“Oh well, our loss,” I said as I guided him through the door and out of my life.
I made a vow: I would never answer the door again just because someone rang the bell. Well, except for a Girl Scout; I'm addicted to those yummy Thin Mints.