the loss of misunderstanding

Considering I now mostly work at home or Starbucks, aside the few stints of English teaching a month, I get to enjoy all that comes with sitting around at home (working). It's awesome, at least until the businessmen or Jehovah's Witnesses come around. I'm often waiting for something to be delivered, so sometimes I fling the door open, excited for my new box. Until I see the suits. The promotional materials.


No... NOOO.... I think desperately. Where is my box? I don't want to talk to you!

They begin with their standard greeting and then move right to business. When I first arrived in Japan, I never understood them. So I stood there stupidly, saying "I don't understand" over and over until I could shut the door. Now, unfortunately, I can understand more or less the gist of what they are saying. Usually, I won't answer the door if I bother to look through the peephole first, but as I said, I'm often expecting something.

So the other day, this happened again, and I found myself face to face with a man holding out a promotional brochure. He started speaking. I looked at him, ensuring that I had my "I'm so confused" face on. As he babbled, I said "I don't understand Japanese" (in purposely bad Japanese). Sales guy was beside himself, "your Japanese is so good!" (in Japanese).

Crap. That didn't work... but that ALWAYS works...

He went on about some new internet service, after asking if we have internet. I kept playing stupid in Japanese, "I don't know... I don't understand..." To which he seemed to gather his own confirmation, and continued on. I slowly let the door creep closer to the frame, hoping he would get the hint. He kept going.

Finally, after my tenth time saying I didn't understand, with only a few inches of open door now between us, Sales Guy asks:

"When will your husband be home?"

 Me: "I don't understand..."

Sales Guy: "Does he work late?"

Me: "I don't understand..."

Sales Guy: "When does he come home?"

Obviously, my strategy was failing miserably - I couldn't get RID of this guy.

"Uh.... 6?"

Sales Guy nods, "Ok, we'll come back at 6. Thank you so much. Thank you. Sorry to bother you."

And with that I finally shut the door.

Poor David (husband), he got to deal with Sales Guy after coming home that evening. Somehow my fake stupidity didn't work. When did this happen? Is it some kind of rite of passage after two years of living here? Did he somehow know that I understood more than I let on? Oh pushy Sales Guy, were you just desperate enough to fill your quota that you had to pick on some poor-looking, foreign girl who says she doesn't understand over and over?

Need to plan a better strategy for next time.