Kubota and Big D were shooting baskets. Between the two of them they weigh five hundred pounds.
The two German Shepherds started talking.
Kubota popped his head in door and told us we had visitors.
I moseyed on out. There was a man on the passenger side of a white Pontiac Vibe and he started getting out. There was a woman on the driver's side.
They were dressed like very well paid Weather announcers. He was wearing a $300 wool blend suit in one of those colors that could be described, depending on the light, as green, brown or gray. Every hair was in place. I think they must have used hair spray with carbon nano fibers. Both had salt-and-pepper hair.
I asked if they were Jehovah Witnesses or political campaigners. He said that they were neither Jehova Witnesses or politicians. That is who we get at our door. JW, politicians. And sales people.
Big D and Kubota kept playing basketball. Of course, Kubota's ears were tracking like radar dishes to hear what was going on. The dogs kept barking. It is pretty clear that both of the German Shepherds could clear the fence given the tiniest iota of motivation. It was pretty loud out there. My hearing is not that great. I may have been pressuring his personal space bubble, just so I could hear him, of course.
Both people decided to stay within springing distance of the car doors.
He said, "We are with the Retiree Benefits Service and we have an appointment with Joe." Jovial voice, watery green eyes, "florid" complexion, 5'-10", 210 pounds, decent posture, poor muscle tone.
"No you don't." I said.
He replied, "Well, that is not what our scheduler wrote down. Is there anybody else in the house? Maybe they set up the appointment. All we need is fifteen or twenty minutes to review your benefits package."
"Kubota, get your mom."
Kubota got Mrs ERJ. And, being the card that he is, he was swinging a 12" crescent wrench when he came back with her. It made a meaty, smacking sound against his other hand. I am sure it made a great percussion accompaniment to the banjos that Green Suit was starting to hear in his head.
This time the woman tried her charms on Mrs ERJ.
"We are with the Retirement Benefit Services and our scheduler has us down for an appointment with you for 4:00." the salt-and-pepper lady said to Mrs ERJ.
Mrs ERJ read the body language on all counts.
"So, where did I retire from?" Mrs ERJ asked.
"I don't know. Our scheduler did not include that on our appointment sheet." replied S&P.
"Does it say where my husband retired from?" Mrs ERJ asked.
"No." S&P said, "But we only need 20 minutes of your time to review this package."
Mrs ERJ issued the ultimatum. "You can leave your package of benefits or you can take it with you. But you must leave."
The man tried the old tag-team approach. "Really, all we need is fifteen minutes of your time, and since we have already met..."
Mrs ERJ said, "You won't be here in two minutes. I am looking at my watch. If you aren't backing out of this driveway in less than one minute I am calling 9-1-1 and filing trespassing charges."
It took them 45 seconds to load their stuff, back down the drive and have their tires resting on a public road
I LOVE that woman.
Perhaps. I have no sympathy for predators who target senior citizens. They count on the fact that many seniors have lost the connections that keep the BS meter calibrated. They also exploit the fact that seniors often lose their mental sharpness, whether due to medication, dementia, or lack of practice in using those skills.
My dad was much more nimble in his glidepath to retirement than I was. While still working, he had all of the major systems of the house brought up to snuff. His goal was to have every system capable of flying on auto pilot for the next 25 years.
That way, if duct cleaners come in and "discovered" that he needs a new furnace (otherwise he will die of carbon monoxide poisoning) he will tell them to pound sand. Clearly, the number of schemes that unscrupulous people can use to defraud seniors is boundless.
I have a strong negative reaction to the disingenuous practice of identifying one's self as "Retiree Benefits Service" or other such garbage. The age old test of Cui Bono applies. "To whose benefit?" Or, "How do you get compensated?"
Another bit of wisdom, most recently enunciated by J. K. Rowling is
"Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain."It sounded like the "scheduler" was the brains of the outfit and I have no information regarding where those brains sit or what motivates them.
I am still curious as to "What" they were trying to sell and next time I will snap pictures of them, their license plate and their vehicle VIN. They might not leave so agreeably next time.