Excuse Me While I Whine
So yesterday, after a half mile ride down Wild Mountain Road which pretty much describes the terrain and going through the gate with the pink plastic flamingos we were greeted at the door by the shotgun bearing policy holder. Once he found out the purpose of our mission the demeanor changed, the shotgun was put away and we had a pleasant conversation.
It seems that even in the wilds of SW Virginia strange vehicles with even stranger people find their way into these back roads. In what would appear that in an area which has little or no criminal activity there are persons bent on doing evil. The mans neighbors had been recently burgled.
Although people generally don't like to be bothered by insurance salespeople they are usually at least cordial, even when they say they're "not interested". But, even at best, door to door sales can be a discouraging endeavor. There are many who enjoy this kind of work, however the two individuals residing at Villa MacBean do not. It takes all the will power we can muster to drive the several hundred miles each day going from driveway to lane to driveway, in and out of the car and knocking on strange doors.
There was a time not long ago when I really enjoyed talking to people, even people I didn't know. Wanda would get upset when I would get into long conversations with the guy at the service station or store. Those days and conversations are gone. I (and I hope it's only a temporary thing) don't any more enjoy talking to people I don't know. I have always enjoyed driving about but it's now become a chore.
I've never been long in a job I didn't enjoy. There is so much more to life and I feel this business draining the pleasure from my being. I know we will quit before long and my joy will return. The problem of slim job pickings in the area remains. One problem we encounter is the neighborhood in which we live is perceived as wealthy and people who domicile here don't need or want to work.
It seems that even in the wilds of SW Virginia strange vehicles with even stranger people find their way into these back roads. In what would appear that in an area which has little or no criminal activity there are persons bent on doing evil. The mans neighbors had been recently burgled.
Although people generally don't like to be bothered by insurance salespeople they are usually at least cordial, even when they say they're "not interested". But, even at best, door to door sales can be a discouraging endeavor. There are many who enjoy this kind of work, however the two individuals residing at Villa MacBean do not. It takes all the will power we can muster to drive the several hundred miles each day going from driveway to lane to driveway, in and out of the car and knocking on strange doors.
There was a time not long ago when I really enjoyed talking to people, even people I didn't know. Wanda would get upset when I would get into long conversations with the guy at the service station or store. Those days and conversations are gone. I (and I hope it's only a temporary thing) don't any more enjoy talking to people I don't know. I have always enjoyed driving about but it's now become a chore.
I've never been long in a job I didn't enjoy. There is so much more to life and I feel this business draining the pleasure from my being. I know we will quit before long and my joy will return. The problem of slim job pickings in the area remains. One problem we encounter is the neighborhood in which we live is perceived as wealthy and people who domicile here don't need or want to work.
Things, I know, will get better. And there are a lot of people in worse shape than we.
OK, I'm better now. Thanks for listening.
posted by The MacBean Gene at 7:58 AM
2 Comments:
Blogger can really be a pain. I guess I could whine about that also. Wanda says sometimes I'm all too real.
The whining is fine. My question is, "What has changed to remove the enjoyment?"
Or is it selling insurance that squeezes the fun out of meeting new people?
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