Answering the Door

Dearest Rachel –

There are times when I think our tendency to answer the door (or the phone, for that matter) when it rings is a mistake born out of politeness. It’s common courtesy to respond to a knock on the door, or a ring of the doorbell; that’s why you have them. But it tends to literally open the door to all kinds of potential trouble. Sure, a potential home invader won’t bother to announce his arrival by doing so (and at this point, I think I’ve built my strength up to where I could hold one off in a fair fight. Of course, if he’s armed or has a buddy or two with him, that’s another story), but there are so many things that we have been talked into by door-to-door solicitors. And let’s face it, we’ve always been a soft touch.

One of the first major such decisions was when some gal from Southwestern (I forget the second word in the name; I want to say Industries or Incorporated, but I really can’t remember. Anyway, their line was selling encyclopedias, of all things) stopped by in 2002, looking for a host family to provide rooms for various foreign exchange students, who they brought in to do the door-to-door work. We put up a couple of girls in the yellow room, and two fellows in the basement (which was already starting to become a mess, but there was room for a futon, at least, and the couch and lamp were there), and had them over for the whole summer. I think we got some rent from them (and a fair number of books they couldn’t sell), and even trusted them to watch the house while we took Ellen with us to Disney World. I mean, it worked out for us (and the one guy introduced me – and my computer, for better or worse – to the wonders of peer-to-peer file transfers via Kazaa, which he said was devised by a countryman of his, back in Estonia), but I always wondered if that was really a good call on our part. In hindsight, I’m not even sure about the ethics of importing student labor like that, but what do I know?

More recently (as in shortly before the pandemic – I’m not sure about your folks’ situation), we had someone come to the door, offering us the ability to purchase our electricity from a wind farm. It would still be through our standard provider, but it was sourced “renewably,” if that’s a word. We were even told that the price differential would barely be noticeable, so we thought, ‘why not? If it doesn’t cost that much more to do our part to save the planet, we might as well’ (a cavalier attitude that makes me think that it might have been after you let me retire; increases in expenditures generally tended to be a concern for the both of us, prior to then). I can’t prove it, as my usage seems to have increased as well, but the increases have been a little more than noticeable, if bearable. Plus, I’ve been hearing worse things about ‘green’ energy these days. I’m still getting my Twike, but that’s for reasons beyond ‘saving the planet,’ which I’m starting to doubt if it does.

The thing is, we’ve always been susceptible to porch step pitches, and while I like to think of myself as being more leery than you on that score, that’s a bar I clear only by measurement. After all, back in the day, when you got a pitch yourself, you always had the “out” of running it by me; you could always use me as an excuse to decline, and not feel guilty about it. But you would run it by me, and I would usually go along with it. To be fair, it’s not as if we’ve ever been catastrophically harmed by someone coming to the door with one offer or another, but neither of us were particularly good about turning them down. I’m just glad we don’t have an infestation of would-be evangelists in this neighborhood (although I’d like to think we’re better grounded in our faith than that; and let’s face it, you’re past the reach of their clutches, in any event).

So when I answered the door on Sunday (I think it was Sunday; it was definitely an afternoon, which means it could have been any day this past week), I really wasn’t hoping to have to deal with another sales pitch that I might be tempted to give in to. And the fact that he was representing a company who used to provide us with our internet service back in the day gave me something of an out to turn him down. On the other hand, he made it clear that he knew that the service they had provided back in those days was… let’s just say, less than stellar (he actually used the term “sucked” to describe it; even I wouldn’t have been that harsh, but that’s Midwestern nice for you).

These days, however, the company was offering fiber optic connections, which would allow speeds in excess of a gigabyte per second, and without the interruptions and downtime we will occasionally experience with our current system (and it does happen, as Logan will let me know about it, since he works from his room these days. Then again, Daniel is less than happy about it when it interrupts a video, too, so it’s not just Logan who complains). Of course, promises like that are cheap; our current provider is constantly claiming situations will be resolved ‘shortly’ – and usually it is, by a certain definition of the word – but no one can truly promise perfection. If they do, be suspicious.

I didn’t tell him what I was paying on a monthly basis, but the price he quoted turned out to be half what I was paying currently. Now, maybe it’s my fault for not negotiating on a regular basis with my current provider, but if they can’t just offer a reasonable rate without prompting or threats, then maybe they don’t deserve my business in the first place. I tried not to change my expression, but I was ready to sign up at this point. I didn’t like that I was doing something like this so impulsively, but this seemed like an opportunity I shouldn’t pass up.

Moreover, he looked into whether the package could be expanded to include cell phone service, and while he couldn’t offer it to me at the door, I was told by the fellow who came by to install the new router that it could, in fact, be done – and also at a price that was well less than that of our current provider (which, I can hardly believe, we’ve been with for over twenty years now). In fact, if you added the quoted cell, phone and internet, they would be roughly comparable to what I’m paying for the cell service alone, never mind our internet provider. So I thought I might as well go for it.

Now, this is why I had to wrap up my day at the ‘office’ early yesterday; they were having a third individual coming to our house to present us with brand-new iPhones (the latest models) and transferring our setups to these new phones. I didn’t get one for you, of course; only a SIMM card to transfer the data, if necessary. But he worked with us for the better part of a couple of hours as we moved everything over from one to the other. We’ll still have to enter passwords to certain apps – and in order to get the trade-in credit, we’ll have to turn in the old phones before this time next month – but for the most part we’re good to go on the new phones already. Daniel’s even ordered a new blue case for his, as that’s an absolute necessity for him (and I probably should, too, if only to protect it).

It’s not a perfect transition, to be sure. The new phones use a different plug, so the ones we’ve been using for the past three years are no good anymore. They are, however, universals (USB-Cs, to be exact), so we have charging posts throughout the house already. Additionally, the old contract included full access to Apple iTunes, which would now cost me a surprisingly substantial monthly amount to subscribe to. I never thought Spotify would be worth subscribing to, but huh, here I am. The savings I’m getting on the rest of the plan should make it more than worth it, though.

Anyway, I promised you yesterday that I’d explain what was going on, and here, in all its mundane glory, it is. And it does feel kind of mundane, even as I have to realize that I haven’t changed providers for years, decades even. This should be a momentous change, and yet it all starts from my answering the door. Weird how that happens, isn’t it?

Anyway, I need to get on with things, honey. You keep an eye on me, and wish me luck, okay? I’m pretty sure I’m going to need it.