Chimney Mob

I've just taken my bread out of the toaster as the doorbell rings at 12.30. What kind of time is that? Now my lunch is getting cold! I walk to our "glass-with-curtain"-front door, see an unknown middle aged man and realise I need to get my key out first, before I can open it. I go back to the hallway to look for my key, as the bloke -who's seen me- starts shouting and ringing the bell again.
OK. So now I'm pissed off.
I open the door and give him by best "I'm A Bit Slow"-Expression.

"I do the chimneys in this street. When was yours last cleaned?"

I'm taken aback. What the hell is this man on about? Who assigned him to our street to clean the chimneys?
"Er... we had it cleaned in October actually"

"Oh really" *he quirks his eyebrows and takes hold of his clipboard and pen* "And which firm did it?"
Thankfully I don't remember.
"Well, next year then" he tells me and pisses off.

Who knew Tony Soprano was active in I. and had stakes in the chimney cleaning business?
And what a sense of satisfaction did it give me to be able to refuse this rude bastard.

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