Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, September 1, 1993 TAG: 9309230285
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ben Beagle
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Telephone peddlers have made this summer a living hell for me. They call all the time, and they have become more aggressive: ``We have good news for you, Mr. Bugler, and if you don't stay on the phone to hear about it we will have you killed.''
A young woman selling adjustable beds called, not long after a young woman who was selling vinyl siding.
I don't know exactly when the young woman who wanted to clean our wall-to-wall carpet called. She called twice. I told her both times we don't have wall-to-wall carpet.
This adjustable bed bothers me a lot because it probably is the same one in the commercial that features two old people, obviously into their cups from overdoing their nightcaps, lying in a plain rumpled bed.
When an off-camera voice asks if they'd like an adjustable bed, they nod their heads and smile drunkenly. It looks like the old lady is more in the bag than the old guy.
I well know that aged people need extra dough for supplemental health insurance, but I wish these two would get some honest employment, say, in a hardware store.
They're an embarrassment to anybody over 60.
If these phone calls didn't muddle my thinking, I could say something clever before I hung up:
``Hello, Mr. Biglee, we at Wonderful Rest Products are making a survey to see if you have a Super Heterodyne adjustable bed.''
``Well, no, girlie, but I'm interested. Your place or mine? I'll get the booze.''
I don't mind saying that I take a nap every afternoon now that I am in the Golden Years. No big deal. I used to take a nap every afternoon sitting up at my desk. When I was 35.
These people call when my dog Millie and I are taking our nap - like this kind of forward kid who was trying to give me a new credit card because I had been ``pre-approved.''
This call interrupted a dream in which I was rescuing Demi Moore from these cannibals who had very nearly torn off every stitch the poor thing was wearing.
I hung up in a daze. What I really wanted to say was: ``Sure, kid. Send it along. I just did time for credit card fraud. But what the hey? And, kid, you call me again when I'm dreaming about Demi Moore and you've bought a concrete overcoat. Ciao, baby.''
I think it's just a matter of time until I answer the phone and hear a young woman say:
``Hi, Mr. Bagels, you've been chosen to receive a real bargain in our new Big-Man line of boxer shorts.''
by CNB