Well, it appears that Mom has been getting on Beck's lazy bum for a few days to get us to update a blog. So today we had family night and after a riveting lesson from Becca on record keeping, we decided to change our ways. Initially we were trying to write in our journals at least once a week, but to be frank, we have failed miserably. So she gave the lesson with the intent on getting me to do a blog with her. That way, we could not only keep "records" for ourselves, but you guys could also keep tabs on us and see what's going on in the lives of the affable Ben and Rebecca Griffioen. Needless to say, the lesson clearly struck me to the core, and less than a few hours later we already have created a blog account and off we go.
So, this is Ben doing the first part of the blog, and I'll start out with a little story to get the ball rolling. As most of you know, I'm doing the adventurous job of a door to door salesman. It's fun, but at the same time can get a tad monotonous. It is rare to come home without a story of some sort whether about a nutjob man threatening me with a gun or a lady who has no social interaction except with her many cats. This week was no exception.
On Wednesday, our first day back from the family gathering in Georgia, I went out a-knocking. First, it rained. Then it poured. So I found refuge and waited for about an hour until it calmed down a bit. As I started walking again, I must have been too eager to sell some systems, and was looking too far ahead rather than right ahead of me, and I stepped in a puddle of water. My right foot got pretty wet. As I'm sure all of you would agree, walking around with wet feet is just annoying. Not a big deal though. I just counted my blessings, and kept truckin' on.
One of the first people I spoke to after the rain was a man about 40 years old. He was as bald as can be on the top of his head, but apparently tried to compensate by having a foot long (at least) pony tail in the back of his head. He had just left his front door to go outside, and I decided to try my luck with the fellow. I walked to him and I said confidently, "Howdy sir...". But before I could even continue on with my pitch, the guy whirled around and looked at me, said an inappropriate word, and looked at his open front door. When I looked at the door, I quickly realized why he was worried: A big black pitbull bolted out of the front door, gnashing its teeth and snarling like crazy. Immediately I felt the fight or flight reaction work in me, and before I knew it I was running for my life from a dog that wanted me dead. I'm pretty out of shape, but I'm pretty sure I was running just as fast then as I had in any year of my time running track or cross country.
The dog chased me for about two blocks, then gave up. I'm glad it did, because I'm not sure how much longer I could have gone. The adrenaline got me pretty good though, because I remember being shocked at how I was not out of breath at all.
I wasn't a happy camper though. I was angry at the guy, furious at the dog, and I didn't have a good attitude for the rest of the day. I think my attitude ruined me for the day, because I also ended up with zero sales.
Well, Becca fell asleep as I was writing this. Sorry guys. Looks like you just have that one story to hold you over for a while. We'll see if we can get some pictures up of the apartment of something. We're living in a pretty nice place now, so we're loving life. No complaints.
No comments:
Post a Comment