When I was in Cub Scouts, our pack co-sponsored a minstrel show, with us selling tickets to our families and neighbors, first prize being a new bicycle. I sold tirelessly every afternoon after school and all day weekends, wearing my Cub Scout shirt and knocking on doors far afield from my own. If the lady (it was almost always a lady) answering had some lame excuse like “We have other plans that night”, I would say in my best sad-orphan voice “Well, won’t you buy just one ticket to support the Cub Scouts?”. This worked pretty well, and, after all, the tickets were only two dollars.
I got tired of selling tickets and stopped a week before the show. When my “friend” and fellow Scout “Glen” asked how many I had sold, I answered honestly with (as I recall) “176”. A week later “Glen” had sold 180 and had himself a new bike.
