A lady had just moved into a new apartment and was besieged by salesmen for everything from laundry service to life insurance. One busy day a dairyman came to the door. "No," she said firmly, "My husband and I don’t drink milk."
"Be glad to deliver a quart every morning for cooking."
"That’s more than I need," I replied, starting to close the door.
"Well, ma’am, how about some cream? Berries comin’ in now, and--"
“No," I said curtly, "we never use cream."
The dairyman retired slowly, and she congratulated herself on her sales resistance. The truth was that she had already ordered from a dairy.
The following morning, however, the same dairyman appeared at the door, a bowl of dewy strawberries held carefully in one hand and a half-pint bottle of cream in the other.
"Lady," he said, as he poured the cream over the berries and handed them to me, "I got to thinkin’--you sure have missed a lot!"