Russian Business - The Rug Cleaner

April 22, 2009

During our breakfast yogurt and miusly Irina says, “Potrick, we need to put down the rugs. The Living room will look much nicer”.

Always agreeable early in the morning, I concur. Irina has some lovely oriental rugs that came from the southern parts of the old Soviet Union. I always liked them. “Good idea Irichka, but didn’t Sasha (she was Mamula’s nanny while we were in the US of A) say something about Persik (the cat that has been around 4 years longer than it should have been if I had anything to say about it) peeing on all the rugs, and she had to put them out on the balcony because the stunk so bad?” The mere thought of that disgusting cat, spoiled my morning; maybe the whole day! Every time that useless cat is mentioned my blood starts to boil. Persik had ruined the parquet in three rooms, the wallpaper in a number of rooms, the bed, the couch and now the rugs. “Get a grip, Patrick, the cat is dead, thank goodness. Time to move on, can’t change it, it’s over, calm down, slowly have another sip of coffee…. OK, OK, the cat is gone, it’s all right. Lets just go check the carpets after breakfast”

The Southern, Oriental, Eastern influence has always had a strange attraction to Russians. So it’s natural that rugs are important to Russians. First there are a lot of people from the Southern Regions of the old Soviet Union who brought their rugs to St Petersburg when they moved. These could be generation old rugs handed down over time. Some of the smaller ones may have been their “prayer rug” for a Muslim’s daily prayers. But for many their rug was probably their most valuable possession and as such held in high esteem. Too valuable to be laid on the floor and walked on. And that explained why in so many apartments we visited during our apartment search we would see a beautiful rug nailed to the wall.

“Yes, Irina. Of course I will go check the carpets in the loggia. That’s a wonderful idea, putting the carpets down. It just didn’t look like home without them.” I answered.

“I can hardly wait to go check out those urine soaked, stinky, dust ridden, bug infested, rags.” I thought. But, I dutifully don my extra-heavy duty rubber gloves, my dirtiest least favorite work overalls and hesitantly head toward the loggia. The good news was that it has been very cold keeping the bacteria and bug infestations at bay. I noticed a small wet puddle at the base of the smaller rug that Sasha had commented on. I didn’t stop to perform the “3P-stress test” – Looks like pee, Smells like pee, Tastes like pee; Must be pee! I just moved on and first dealt with the rug without a puddle at its base.

Carefully I carried it to the living room, laid it on the floor and unrolled it. “Looks OK to
Me Irichka, it seems to pass the first two parts of the 3P-Stress Test. Don’t know about the small Turkish rug though, left it on the loggia”.

Irina came, looked at the rug, frowned a bit. “Potrick, we need to clean the rug”.

“Yes dear, In Corpus we could just take it out on the deck, get the hose, spray it, get the carpet wash and scrub it, then hang it out to dry. Easy, but I don’t think we can do that here.”

It was still early morning and I happened to look out the window. “Irina, Irina, quick, come look there is how we will clean our rug! All we need is a big brush and to wait our turn at the rack”

Check out the video to view alternative Russian Rug Cleaning Options




“ZEEEEEEEK….ZEEEEEK”

“Its the door buzzer! “Who is that?” I ask. Irina unlocks the first steel security door, peeks through the fisheye peep hole in the second steel door and tries to see whose outside. Some young girl, appearing harmless. Irina opens the door and starts talking. Doesn’t seem like a problem and I go back to my computer.

After the doors are relocked Irina rushes in and excitedly tells me “Potrick, Potrick you won’t believe, some kind of guy from “Kurbee” will to come to clean our floors and rugs – for FREE!!!”

I didn’t quite catch all the details but I told her “that’s just wonderful and we were just about to stupidly go buy a big brush and wait our turn at the outdoor rug rack. It’s a miracle. When will they be here?”

“I don’t know some time later today, in a little while.” Irina said. So it sounded good, too good, maybe things are indeed improving in Russia and I went back to work. Then it stuck me.

“Irina, IRINA, who is this person coming to clean? Did you say ‘Kirby’”? I knew it, but couldn’t believe it, Kirby vacuum cleaners with door-to-door salesmen in Russia. Capitalism has arrived, albeit just in time for the crisis. Yes it was the Kirby guy that was due to arrive sometime later on. “Irina, I sold Kirby vacuums one summer when I was in college, I know their sales tactics we will never get them out of the house without buying, I know they are good vacuums, but waaaay over priced, I know you are in trouble now, so much for the rest of the day.”

Now I was nervous and couldn’t concentrate. I knew this sales man was going to immediately see our filthy rug on the floor and start salivating, I knew he was going to put one of those pristine white cloths over the vacuum’s exhaust, I knew he was going to turn on that big industrial looking monster and in mere seconds suck up so much dirt, dust, hair, dead bugs, and other unidentified stuff that the white cloth would be pitch black, I knew that the vacuum job done only an hour ago would not change the outcome of the Kirby white cloth demonstration; I knew Irina’s face would turn pale and she might faint just thinking that we live in so much filth, I knew that I couldn’t explain to Irina that their demos will every house look filthy, I knew I was doomed to own a Kirby.

Yeah, it was fate; God was finally getting back at me for my one success as a Kirby sales associate. I had felt guilty for years, but it was my summer job. My guilt drove me to quit the job after only two weeks; I knew I just didn’t have what it took to make it. Yeah, I was the sales leader. At our Monday Morning Sales Rally starting my second week I was the proud recipient of the “sales associate of the past week” award! I had actually sold a Kirby vacuum cleaner, the only one sold by our office last week. But the by end of the second week I turned in my resignation, I couldn’t handle it.

I remember it clearly even after 40 years. The sales manger, whose previous experience as a used car salesman, took all of us sales apprentices under his tutelage. We headed out of Austin, into the hills. “Virgin territory!” he said “I’m sure no one ever goes this far out of town to sell, I can smell success”

All I could smell was cigarette smoke and stale BO, our leader had no A/C in his car. I thought he at least could have picked up something better of the used car lot before he left his previous job. He dropped us off a couple of miles apart, with our vacuum and sales equipment in hand. “Boys, we’ll see yawl in a couple of hours. Sorry about no water. I’m sure you can get some from your prospects. Good luck.”

“The only thing I’m sure of is that he will find some air conditioned bar or restaurant to hang out for the next 3 or 4 hours. I hope he remembers to pick us up out here.” I thought.

It was end of June, it was hot, you could see the waves of heat radiating up from the black top road, the only shade came from the few pitiful small mesquites or cedars, the only other plant life was cactus. Each house seemed to about a quarter of a mile from the other and lay at the end of a quarter mile dusty, dirt driveway. Remember it was the hill country, so we humped up the hills with our vacuum and accessories, hoping to make it to the downhill hike. Now I understood why this was “Virgin territory”, of course no one would try to sell door to door here. This is a survival course, not sales opportunity.

Suffering the first pangs of heat stroke, I can’t remember how many prospects I had seen; not many everyone was probably at work. But at this house a nice little old lady met me at the door. After delivering my memorized Kirby sales introduction I ended with “Maum, if you don’t have time to see the demonstration, could I at least have a glass of water?”

Maybe it was pity, but she let me in, gave me a glass of water and then said “Well sonny since you are here why don’t you show me your vacuum.”

I almost fell out of my chair, she had told me that her husband had died and she was struggling on only a small pension. “How could she ever afford one of these expensive things?” I thought.

“Yes, Maum! Thank you, I would be happy to do that”. By the way we also got a small pittance for actually showing the vacuums, so I would get a little something for my time spent in hell in the hill country. As I looked around I saw no carpet, no rugs. “Uhhhh Oh! How can I demo the power of the Kirby and all its fancy, but generally useless, attachments. How can I show her the filth she is living in, so she can justify spending 7/8s of her monthly pension on this machine?” The Kirby sales pitch doesn’t work on hardwood or linoleum floors. But Wait!! Then it came to me, “lesson 9.B in our sales manual – vacuuming the sucker’s, Uh I mean prospect’s, bed can also yield impressionable results ” (everyone has a bed). So I told her “I know a broom is all you need for these wood floors, but the Kirby is reeeeaally good for cleaning mattresses. You wouldn’t believe all the dust, dust mites, dead skin and other stuff that accumulates in our mattresses. Could I vacuum your mattress?”

That was the deal maker; the pristine white cloth instantly turned black from who, knows what and she was shocked at what she was sleeping on every night. It was a done deal. I told her I would be back in about an hour with my manager and he would write up all the paper work. Thanked her and about an hour later returned to collect the check.

That evening my buddy, who conned me into joining him in this sure-fire summer job adventure, and I went out and had a couple of beers; needed to rehydrate of course. But the next morning I felt the pangs of guilt. I felt like I taken this poor, kind lady’s food money; selling her something she really didn’t need and was tricked into buying. But what to do now; nothing? On Friday, I resigned.

And so I knew that after so, so many years God had sent the Kirby sales man all the way to Russia, to our little apartment with only one rug to keep clean, to collect his dues.

“ZEEEEEEEK….ZEEEEEK”

“Irina……., IRINA! Your guy at the door, can you let him in?” I got off my computer as quickly as possible and went to meet the Kirby vacuum cleaner salesman. “Young guy, probably a little older than I was back then. Lugging the same big boxes for the vacuum and attachments. Yep! There’s the little deal makers, but now instead of white cloths, he set a stack round white paper dirt catchers that would show filth even if he vacuumed the air. I am sure we are in for the same dog and pony show I participated in 40 years ago.”

Kola the Kirby man broke out the gear, started quickly assembling the parts, put on the white paper dirt catcher and immediately headed for our dingy looking rug. He barely got the vac on the rug before the white filter was dirt black with a quarter of an inch of stuff you don’t want to touch.

Irina’s face took on the same look of horror as my prospect 40 years prior. Kola was setting the hook, smelling success; he also saw Irina’s face. What could I do now; I retired to my computer and let the show continue.

Kola had a field day with Irina. For the next three hours Irina was able to get him to try everyone of the 38 attachments in all the knooks and crannies of our apartment. The best was that he even demoed the rug shampooer on both the big rug and the little rug, which I previously had been scared to even bring into the apartment. Have to admit that I wasn’t sure who was working over whom.

“Potrick, these is a wonderful machine it does everything. I think we must buy.”

“What do these things cost now days?” I asked.

“Well they are a little bit expensive, but they do so much! I think we need.”

“What is a lettle expensive?”

“Well they cost around 140,000 Roubles”

“Irina!!! That is over $4,500. More than a car! Maybe not much for Rich Russians, but us poor pensioners will have no food money!”

“But, Potrick, we can buy on credit! Since Mamula is a survivor of the blockade (this means she was in WWII and survived the Hun’s blockade of St Petersburg and as such is entitled to all kinds of benefits; reduced utility rates, higher pensions, a new medal every Victory Day along with some other valuable gift…. The list goes on and on) we get the loan interest free for two years!! Can you believe how wonderful this will be?”

I was getting concerned now Irina had on that forceful look about her. I better think fast, or we could the proud new owners of an industrial strength cleaning machine, whose first cleaning job was cleaning our bank account. “Irina, where will we store this machine?”

“I don’t know, some where?”

“Irina, you always complain about my vacuum in Corpus which you have to push. Rememer you last told me it hurt your back for a week and will NEVER vacuum again. Won’t you have the same problem with this one?”

“Ummmm? No probably”

“Yes!” I could see I was sowing a few seeds of doubt, build on it. “I don’t want you to injure yourself, who would take care of Mamula it that happened?” Bingo, the doubt meter is rising. “I guess we could keep the vacuum in the bed room, it won’t fit in the hall closet. No, wait we could store it on the loggia.” I can really see progress!

“The loggia wouldn’t work, too dusty and dirty. Kola; I really would like to buy your machine but we have no place to keep such a big vacuum and all its parts, I don’t know what to do.”

Poor Kola, his face dropped; but he understood. In fact I am sure he has heard the same thing from many people living in these smaller apartments. “At least you let me demo, I thank you for that. Most people will not even let me in the door. Maybe you have some friends that I could visit?”

Sounds like they still get the pittance for making a demo and maybe even get something for new leads. I had Irina ask him how’s business. And he said he had sold a few. I am sure, for Rich Russians all you have to do is tell them “it’s the best” or “it’s Italian” – sale guaranteed! Well he did better than I had. We wished him luck.

I felt sorry for him. He wasn’t pushy or rude. He was just trying to make an honest living in hard times; unusual in Russia. But Irina and I always have felt that if this country is to really improve it will do so with the new younger generation.