The Steak People: Solicitors of the Month

I love steak.  My husband loves steak.  My kids love steak.

But, I’m not going to buy it out of the back of some guy’s truck.

We’ve had a lot of solicitors in our neighborhood lately…The Money Girl, the 35 year old ‘college’ student offering to paint our house number on the curb, magazine vendors, some weird guy on a bike with a clipboard, and…

The Steak People

That’s what my kids like to call them.

The other day the kids were all in the back yard. They don’t always stay there.  They like to run around to the front door and bang on it so they can come back inside and get a forgotten toy…or a drink…or a bathroom break…or just to say ‘hi’.

Why not go back in the door they used to go outside…that would be the back door?  Probably because they like to see the annoyed look on my face when I unlock the front door and let them come inside.  Or maybe they like to see the smoke come out of my ears.  Who knows.

While the kids are out back, or supposed to be out back, I hear a knock at the front door.  I know right away it is not my kids.  It’s that annoying rhythmic knock:

Dum-da-da-dum-dum—–DUM, DUM!

My kids aren’t that coordinated.  Well, maybe The Fourth Grader.  But, I know it’s not my kids. 
None of my neighbors are home so I know it’s a solicitor.  Fantastic.  Bonus for the solicitor that I already want to punch him/her in the neck for that annoying knock.

I go to the door and see a young man, let’s call him Slick, because he looks exactly like Matt Dillon in “There’s Something About Mary” with his narrow eyes and pencil thin moustache.  Also, he is standing there with his hands in his pockets rocking back and forth on his heels.  He obviously needs to take a course in professional skills from The Money Girl.

I see the logo on his truck and it has the word ‘steak’ in it.


Hello Ma’am!  Your neighbor…

Wait a second. Let me stop you.  You guys were here a week and a half ago and I wasn’t interested.  I am still not interested.  I have already been to the grocery and I don’t have a deep freezer. 

Huh….that wasn’t us.  We’ve never been door to door.  What did their truck look like?  Black?  F10 pick up?

Uh-oh.  I’ve caused a commotion in the world of meat sales.  Meat madness?  Steak war?  It could be a reality show.

Yea, I don’t know.  But, I don’t need any meat.

Well, I’m just here because your neighbor Jane Smith’s credit card was declined for her regular order and my boss said I could see if any other neighbors wanted to buy it.

Likely story, buddy.

Nope.  I don’t want to buy my neighbor’s meat.  Or any other meat off your truck.  Or any other truck.


Now I know who has bad credit in the neighborhood. 

And, my kids have a new character with whom I can threaten them.

Do you have a lot of solicitors in your neighborhood this summer? 

The Money Girl…She’s Probably Not Who You Think She Is

We live in a nice, quiet, safe neighborhood. 

For the most part.

We’ve had some solicitors lately.  Just the normal variety…my kids call them:

The Money Girl
The Steak People

I picture the Money Girl as a lady carrying two big bags of money, one in each hand, with giant dollar signs on them.  Sometimes she is crying because no one will give her more money.  Sometimes she is scary like a witch and steals children.  Hey, the picture I paint in my head is created by my kids!

Who is the Money Girl?  I’ll tell you.  It all started one day when we were in a hurry to leave for guitar lessons…please note, we are always in a hurry…please note again, we are always late.  As I am rushing around the house, I hear a knock at the door.  Said knocker has probably been standing there a while because I’m sure she’s been ringing the doorbell.  I unplugged that sucker when Middle Child rang it every 15 seconds while playing on the porch.  It was not a pleasant ‘Ding-Dong’ but instead an annoying “Ding-Dong-Ding-Dooooong……Ding-Dong-Ding-Dooooong’.

Back to my story.  The Money Girl.  The lady at the door was cheery and fast talkin’. 

Hi!  My name is Linda!  I’m from such-and-such program and am going door to door practicing my people and professional skills so that I may move back into the workforce with ease!  How am I doing so far?  Am I maintaining eye contact?  Firm hand shake?

She grabbed my limp hand and gave me a couple of good pumps.  Yikes.  And, that’s not eye contact, that’s a stare down, Linda!

My three kids have piled up behind me, along with the dog, and we are standing there with a crack in the door that is letting in every fly in the neighborhood.  I hate flies.  They love my house.  Maybe because of the smell?  Who can tell.

I informed Linda that I was sorry to be rude…hey, she was working so hard and I am totally shooting her down…but we were in a hurry to leave for guitar lessons. 

Fantastic, I have just told a stranger with crazy eyes and a crushing handshake that I’m leaving my house empty.  Brilliant move genius. 

What to do??

I left and called my neighbor…and asked her to call the cops. 

Don’t judge.  I still have my television and family jewels.  Of course, who is going to want my 500 pound Trinitron t.v. and high school class ring?

Why do we call her The Money Girl?  Because, after she came to the door, a friend posted on Facebook that a lady was going door to door asking for money.  After this, I told my kids they could only play in the back yard, in the fence, and if they saw someone they did not know that they should come inside right away. 

Of course, they like to question authority.

-Why should we come in?  Who will we see?

-Well, there’s a lady going around asking for money.  We don’t know who she is or what she wants.

-A money girl??  Is she bad?  Does she have bags of money?  What does she look like?

And thus, the Money Girl, was born.

How about the Steak People?  Well, you can read about them next time. 

We are late for a meeting, as usual…