They’re selling you magazines.
My Sundays are usually reserved for lazy activities; sleeping in, playing a video game, thumbing through a book, watching the Sunday news shows, taking a quiet stroll through a park, nursing the irreconcilable hangover that’s been brewing for two nights, etc. Today was different.
At around 2 in the afternoon, I heard a knock on my door, something completely innocent and common. When I opened my door, I was greeted by two girls whom I have never met. I stood puzzled as to what was going on. They introduced themselves and asked me if I went to school here. I live in a dorm. Red flag number one. Then they asked if I was a freshman. I live in a well-known upperclassman dorm. Red flag number two. They started asking me what my major was and if I have taken any communication-based classes. I said I was an English major and that I’m actually concentrating in communications, so yes, I have taken classes in that subject.
Then they started telling me about something. I couldn’t hear or understand them. All I did was nod and smile. Then they said something about a survey and a contest and whipped out a piece of laminated paper. They asked me to pick out a magazine that I like and handed me the paper. I said that I liked Ski Magazine.
They said something about putting a sticker on my door, none of which I understood, and then asked if I had a table they could write on. I pointed to the table behind them in the common room, and they pulled out what looked like a checkbook. I recognized the paper as a receipt and said, “woah, woah, woah, am I paying for this? You guys said it was a survey.” I proceeded to tell them that I refused to buy anything from them, and that they could promptly go fuck themselves.
