I give a man five minutes of my time and spend the next 40 minutes regretting it...

Last Saturday, I mowed the lawn, took a shower, and came back outside to finish putting things away before I had to get ready for lunch and then leave with my family.

I see some guys getting stuff out of an SUV in the middle of the street. I probably should have headed inside then, but I didn't know what was coming.

A guy comes running up to me and asks me a question: "If you could pick between these two fragrances, which would it be?"

I shrug, but play along. Both are well-known brands and both are some sort of fruit scent. I spray and sniff both and tell him, "Neither, because I don't like fruity smells."

The guy chuckles a little and says, "Well, we'll get you a different scent. It's our little gift to you for a few minutes of your time."

He tells me he's part of a marketing group that spreads the word about a particular product. "If someone knew of a great product, wouldn't you want someone to tell you about it?"

"I guess," I shrug.

"Well, we want to give you a quick demonstration that should only take five minutes of your time."

He then asks me if I've ever heard of a brand of vacuum, let's just call it The Vacuum Company.

I tell them I had, but added, "Let me stop you right there. I've just bought a brand new Dyson vacuum. I'm not interested in getting a new vacuum."

The guys eyes pop wide and he goes, "That's just perfect!" and proceeds to call another guy over to give me a demonstration. He assures me again that it's not going to take a long time, so I reluctantly let the guy in my house.

Within the first few minutes, I start to realize that this isn't going to take five minutes.

The other guy that just came in, let me just refer to him as Guy, drags along two boxes with him and when I say "drags", I'm being literal. He has a heavy limp like he's suffered with a hip malfunction for most of his life.

I guess I'm just good-hearted because I start feeling a little sorry for the guy, so I sit there patiently as he pulls out of a box, a vacuum head, some hoses, a big bag and an attachment that I've never seen before. After five grueling minutes, Guy gets the vacuum all snapped and pieced together. Guy then goes into a pitch about how The Vacuum Company doesn't do any advertising. They apparently rely on people like me to buy their vacuums door-to-door.

He plugs in the vacuum and snaps some circular filter pieces into his side attachment and starts to vacuum away. He unsnaps the circle filter and says, "Look at that." It indeed is filled with dirt fibers.

Guy goes into his pitch about how The Vacuum Company is one of the only companies whose vacuums are listed as actual "vacuum cleaners". Whereas my new Dyson, is a "vacuum sweeper."

He asks me to get my vacuum out. Vacuums a little with it (I had to show him how to turn it on) and then vacuums over the same carpet space with his vacuum. He shows me the result: more dirt. He does a demonstration in which he vacuums over the same space 52 times to simulate a years worth of vacuuming. Guy then vacuums over that same space again with his vacuum and shows me the result: more dirt.

It's at this point that I'm starting to get a little impatient. It's taking way longer than 5 minutes. The demonstration seems to have no end and it's starting to cut into lunch time for my daughter. My wife starts to make Julia her lunch while I'm stuck there, starving myself, waiting for this non-ending demonstration to end.

I then also start realizing that there seems to be a never-ending stream of dirt coming from my carpet. I think he could have gone over the same spots all day long and still managed to pull up bits of dirt. Also, he has a side attachment that is not even the bag, it's a place to put his filters, but it's also a way to increase the suction. I can only imagine what it would do with the actual bag intact.

It was during this period of helplessness that I started to realize that Guy sounded and talked just like Uncle Rico, the scheming uncle from Napoleon Dynamite who tries selling everything from breast enhancements to cheap tupperware.



Guy then says in an Uncle Rico way, "What I asked you, 'where would you say your dirtiest part of you house is?' What would you say?"

I started to try and think, but then I just said, "I would say... I don't know. Could you just tell me?"

Guy asks to go to the nearest bedroom. In the guess bedroom, he pulls up the sheets and starts vacuuming on the mattress. He shows me the result: lots of dirt and very fine dust. Apparently, dust mites feed on us and dispose of 5 times their body weight on our mattresses. Thanks Guy, I'm now paranoid that I might actually need this vacuum, but I resist the urge.

He also tries to sell me out of my Dyson by explaining that his vacuum has HEPA filter bags. I counter that not only does my Dyson have HEPA, but they are lifetime filters. He doesn't seem fazed and counters with how the HEPA rating is displayed on his vacuum but not on others. I look and can't find it (but I'm sure it's somewhere in my manual). He tells me how the vacuum will also clear the air. I counter with the fact that a British allergy association recommends my vacuum for allergy sufferers. He counters with someone else. I counter that the Dyson produces air 1.5 times cleaner than the air outside the vacuum. He counters with something else. I realize this is never going to end.

I ask if we can wrap this up, so he gives me the lowdown. $2000 for the vacuum!!!

I tell him rather bluntly, "Look, I told the first guy that I had just bought this Dyson and I'm NOT going to just throw it away to buy yours."

Guy/Uncle Rico says, "Okay, but I need to call my boss and let him know that I tried, but you're not interested."

He pulls out of his pocket the oldest, most beaten-up looking Nokia cell phone that I've seen since 1999, dials and starts to talk, in what can only be described as the biggest sack of horse crap that anyone's tried to feed me.

Guy asks, "What's your name?"

I tell him. He nods.

"I'm hear with Mr. At Large. I showed him the vacuum and he's very impressed with it (gives me a nod), but he says that he can't afford to buy another one because he's just bought a new Dyson. Can we do anything for him on the price?"

He nods and starts jotting down numbers. Now it doesn't sound so horrible while I'm typing this, but it sounded like he had just pretended to dial and was talking to no one. I was very tempted to ask Guy for the phone, but refrained.

He then knocked off $800 on the price and told me I could have it for 50 bucks a month. I again reiterated that I made it perfectly clear up front that I had a new vacuum and wasn't interested in buying a new one.

Guy nodded, thanked me for my time and then proceeded to take five minutes picking up all of his equipment and putting it back in the bags and then into the boxes.

I muttered, "Boy. You think they would give you a nice carrying case to haul those vacuums around."

Guy finally leaves and Laura goes, "How do you get yourself sucked into these things?"

I guess I got sucked in by the assurance that it would be only a short demonstration. I'll know better next time someone like that comes along. I then realized not only did I lose 40 minutes of my life that I'll never get back, I also didn't even get my spray fragrance.