Door-To-Door Insights

By: Tyler Miller

It lurks the suburban streets of America, searching tirelessly and eagerly for its next victim. On average, a single one of these beasts is able to claim 2 innocent lives a day, and in broad daylight! Frightened citizens often adorn their doorways with wards and signs of protection, but old wives-tales about how to dispel these beasts are largely ineffective. Middle-class suburbia's worst enemy: the shorts-clad... The polo-shirt-wearing... THE DOOR-TO-DOOR SALESMAN!!!

I found myself becoming this beast quite recently. A door-to-door salesman pushing a certain brand of internet service, bundled with a certain brand of satellite TV service, as well as a certain brand of home security. This was never what I envisioned my life becoming, and I certainly don't foresee this becoming a long-term arrangement by any means, but this little temporary job that I've only held for the past three weeks has piqued my philosophical and intellectual interest unlike any job I've ever held. The vitriol and feelings of inconvenience I experience through simply knocking on doors all day doesn't bother me: it interests me.

My degree is in English and Secondary Education. I graduated from the University of Wyoming in the Spring of 2021. I was an English teacher by the Fall, teaching in a small Wyoming town just outside of Casper. While teaching is a decently noble and purpose-driven career, I found that it only brought me intense misery. A constant, driving, dull pain in my chest that kept me company for most of the singular semester I was able to maintain that career. I know the first thing that is assumed with a teacher in misery is angry parents and hurtful, cruel students, but that legitimately wasn't my experience. I never really had any disgruntled parents, and I did a damn fine job building positive relationships and connecting with the vast majority of my students. My issues came from feeling stuck in a small nothing town, being judged and altered by my superiors, and belonging to a career path and degree that I've lost all interest and hope in.

A whirlwind of mental health treatment, uncertainty, and impulsiveness has led me to Phoenix, Arizona, where I knock on doors trying to switch people's internet providers all day. I meet such interesting people when the time is taken to talk to them, and the people who slam the door in my face and hit me with tidal waves of disdain provide me with a unique perspective of the 'better-than-thou' arrogance of humanity. Admittedly, I'm not even a good salesman (quite yet), and the commission-based system of pay is doing me no favours, but I don't mind. I get to knock on your door and see what kind of person you really are - when nobody's watching, when nobody will ever know how you treat this perfect stranger who is simply doing their job.