She threads her way through the cars on this swirly cold day, coming up my son’s driveway, and with the winter sun and the wind blowing her shoulder-length hair in her eyes all I saw at first was that eager smile and clipboard, and I figured she’s one of those Jehovah’s Witnesses coming to save my soul. But then I see that she’s wearing mustard-colored shorts and black stockings. They’re not even tights. They’re more like pantyhose, with a pattern in them, and there’s a big snag, almost a hole, on one thigh – it’s not real noticeable but I see it. She looks pretty trampy. So then I think, okay, she’s probably selling pest control.
Turns out she’s with Kirby vacuums, but she doesn’t have any equipment or even a car as far as I can tell. She must have been the advance gal for the salesman. That was my first job after babysitting when I was a teenager, I tell her, doing telemarketing for Kirby but I don’t mention the way me and the other girls got treated like meat. This little girl, her smile gets even bigger, she clutches her clipboard to her chest and says, “Do you have any advice for me?” She already told me she graduated early so I’m guessing she’s maybe seventeen and a half, at the most.
I open my mouth but then stop. I want so badly to tell her, Yeah, go home and put on some long pants. Don’t smile so much. Stand up straight. Make your voice deeper. But instead I tell her the truth, which is, you’re selling a really quality product. You can, you know, be proud of that. Have confidence in your product.
And I wondered about a kid who has was so desperate for work she’d go door to door selling vacuums and what kind of home life would let her outside looking like that. We said our goodbyes and she went up the street. A few houses away, I pushed the stroller across the street to catch up with her. “I have a question for you.”
“Yes?” She clutched her clipboard like it was a life vest.
“Do you have any Mace?”
“No, I was going to get some but it’s my first week and I haven’t gotten around to buying any.”
So I fished around in the stroller and gave her mine, and I wanted again to tell her, wear long pants. But how do you say that without scaring her? After I gave it to her I realized that now I was pretty vulnerable too, but I’m crusty. I have an attitude toward people, and I believe I will see trouble coming before it gets to me. That’s what you get for living this long.
That night, I told Bill what happened. He looked all squinty-eyed at me. “You got taken,” he said. “They put her out there looking helpless and people want to buy from her.”
I said, “Maybe she was being played that way by some creepy sales manager, but I don’t think she was sophisticated enough to run that game. At least she didn’t seem so to me.”
He shrugged. “She got your Mace.”
Life in the Boomer Lane
/ February 3, 2012Lynn, this is beautifully written and also heartbreaking. I once had a young boy come to the door, in the pouring rain. He wore no raincoat and had no umbrella. I kept him at the door as long as I could, trying to make sure an adult was picking him up somewhere. Many of these kids are street kids and make no money for what they do. The “adults” in charge are terrible.
Lynne Spreen
/ February 3, 2012Renee, I just read your post on the Komen puke-fest. GOOD JOB! Okay, except for that little part about wishing ill health on u-know-who. But dang, girl, I felt catharsis just reading your post!
Laura
/ February 3, 2012I am having so many reactions to this story. I wouldn’t be seventeen again either. So vulnerable and naive.
Joyce
/ February 3, 2012I was taken by a similar looking girl in the parking lot in Starbucks. She went from person to person looking for just “$5.00 to get her car fixed.” Nobody but me gave it to her. The men at the other tables turned to me, after she left, and laughed. “She just got you,” they said. ” Nah,” I replied “I believe her.”
Fast forward 3 weeks to another Starbucks parking lot in a different part of town – same girl, same trick. Only she didn’t remember she hit me up before. This time I told her I played this game with her before and Im not going to now. Off she went – without even a second glance.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me!
Lynne Spreen
/ February 3, 2012Joyce, sometimes you just have to take a chance. But I would love to be a fly on the wall that that girl’s house. Would love to see her discussing strategy with her roommate. “What’s up for today?” “Oh, gonna hit up Starbucks.” *smile* “Either that or get a job.” *laughs and high-fives roommate.*
nanci
/ February 3, 2012I wouldn’t be a teen again either…. and you may have been taken… but you may have also saved a life. Good for you, Lynne.
Lynne Spreen
/ February 3, 2012Nanc, I kind of identified with her. I was that stupid and hard-working once, too. Luckily lived to tell about it.
Debbie
/ February 3, 2012I’d like to think I’d be kind (and empathetic!) enough to help this poor gal out, but I have to confess I wouldn’t. Guess that makes me hard-hearted! Anyway, shame on any company using such dirty tactics as to take a poor kid and turn her into a walking tramp, just to drum up a little business! I know jobs are hard to come by these days, especially for the young with no degree and no experience, but c’mon, peeps, we ALL can do better than this!
Lynne Spreen
/ February 3, 2012Well, the speculation that Kirby was using her like that was just my own and my hubby’s. We don’t know for sure. But don’t they have a desk person/office manager who guides them on what to wear? Of course, Bill thought it was a cover for a theft ring, out casing the neighborhood with the “Kirby” ruse. I actually never asked to see her ID or the clipboard to verify her Kirby story.
Kathleen Pooler
/ February 4, 2012Hey Lynne, I’ve worked with troubled adolescents and there’s always a story behind all that hardness and pluck. I think that’s fine that you gave her your Mace. You never know what little act of kindness may make a difference. But I tend to agree with Bill, that she was probably working as a cover for something illegitimate..and yes, shame on the adults involved who have either taken advantage of or failed to monitor and provide guidance to a vulnerable teen. Dirty tactics indeed!
charlywalker
/ February 4, 2012When I was Seventeen…it was a very good year…..It was a very good year for small town girls…….
ohh sorry got carried away by Sinatra in my head….
great Post!
Vonnie
/ February 4, 2012No car? No Kirby? I probably would have turned her away and not even thought about her safety. You’re very observant, Lynne. Good for you!