L.R. Burt

A sand problem, that is.

Well - that’s what the Kirby vacuum cleaner salesman said.

After he dumped a cupful of sand onto our carpet.

He drove all the way to Oklahoma to get that white sand. Because it’s ashtray sand, and smoking’s out in Texas. He quit smoking fifteen years ago. And he bet we never started. Just as well. We don’t need a tar-in-lung problem when we’ve got sand-in-carpet.

And two hours lost from our lives that we will never. ever. get back.

I am such an idiot.

What was a Kirby vacuum cleaner salesman doing in my house? It all started Thursday evening, when a very nice lady from some new neighbor welcoming program called. She mentioned some coupon and local business information packet we’d received in the mail when we moved to this house. I figured they must just be behind on their calls. And when she offered me a completely free shampooing of one room’s carpet, I agreed to it.

Not once did it occur to me there would be a sales pitch. I thought maybe it was a local carpet cleaning service who would try to get me to pay to have the rest of my house done after I saw how lovely the living room carpet looked.

Well. As lovely as that carpet can look. Better than it ever has looked since we bought the house.

But worth two hours of my time?

Worth discovering that despite our brand-new Dyson Animal vacuum, we have a sand “problem”?

No. I think not.

Two hours. Two hours that could have been spent weeding my garden. Or ironing. Or reading. Or writing. Or…anything.

I would rather have talked to a Jehovah’s Witness for two hours. At least then I could have messed with their mind. There aren’t really a lot of ways to mess with the mind of a person who gave you a sand problem and then told you over. and over. and over that you had a sand problem.

Oh. And he also said over. and over. and over that maybe Santa Claus would bring the Mrs. a Kirby.

I really feel like writing Kirby a scathing letter and letting them no how much I do not appreciate this kind of sexism. I don’t even consider myself much of a feminist as most people think of it - I think gender neutral language is a load of crap. But when someone comes into my home and then assumes I do the vacuuming because I’m a woman?

I’ll tell you where there’s a sand problem, bub.

In your brain, where there should be grey matter. There’s no grey matter. Just white, Oklahoma ashtray sand.

And all those dust mites that crawled into your ears when you were sleeping because the Mrs. was too miffed to use the Kirby vacuum Santa Claus bought her for Christmas with your employee discount.

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frustration, kirby, sand problem, vacuum cleaner salesman, waste of time