The Worst Salesman in the World

Years ago when I was a student at the University of 'Wisconsin, I got a call one day from a good friend of mine who announced that he has become a salesman.

 

 I yelled through the phone,  "You can't be a salesman."  He wanted to know why not.  I said, "You are totally devoid of personality.  A salesman has to have personality."

 

But George insisted that someone was going to teach him everything he needed to know to become a successful salesman.  I wanted to know if he was selling encyclopedias.  Those were popular with door to door salesmen back then although we didn't get too many of them because we lived on the third floor of an apartment building and carrying those books was too much for most of them.

 

George said he wasn't doing door to door sales.  He was selling only by appointments and he would be selling something every household needed: Kirby Vacuum Cleaners.  I laughed out loud.  We certainly didn't need a vacuum cleaner.  We had no rugs and very little furniture.  We were lucky to be able to afford a broom.

 

He wanted to make an appointment to come and demonstrate the Kirby Vacuum Cleaner but I

told him in no uncertain terms that we were not buying one of the things under any circumstance.

He told me he really needed some practice so he wasn't expecting us to buy.  But I figured that was what they had trained him to say.  Then he said he would give us a free case of Pepsi's if I would allow him to demonstrate the machine. I was still reluctant but in my heart I knew he would never be able to talk me into buying anything so I finally said o.k.  He wanted to know if the "lady of the house" would be there for the demo. I said, "You mean my wife, Carol?"  He said we both had to be present in order to qualify for the free drinks.

 

When he came over he really had to struggle to get the Kirby up the steps.  They weigh more than a set of encyclopedias...and I made him go back down and bring the Pepsi's up.  I didn't

trust him. I wanted the Pepsi's in the apartment before we started.

 

I kept laughing as he got his equipment out because he had memorized the sales pitch word for

word.  He said we would be amazed at how much dirt the Kirby would pick up out of the rugs.

I reminded him, pointing to the floor, that we had no rugs. 

 

"I'll do the couch then," he said, "You'll be amazed at how much dirt the Kirby will pull out of the

couch."  I reminded him that the couch was brand new; we had just got it from Sears the week

before.

 

"No matter.  You will be amazed.  I'll put the upholstery cleaner on and show you how filthy

and germ ridden your couch is."

 

He turned on the Kirby and it sounded like an airplane engine.  He made one swipe down the seat of the couch...and it sucked four buttons off!

 

"Look what you've done, you nut.  You have ruined our new couch.  This is going to cost you more than a case of Pepsi's."  I yelled.

 

He told me he could get the buttons out of the Kirby.  But getting them back on the couch was

what I wanted.

 

Next he wanted to do our mattress and moved into the bedroom.  I had painted the room.  I wanted a bold pink color but it came out more red, so I had painted watermelon seeds on the

wall.  He wanted to know if I wanted him to suck the seeds off the wall.  I made him  move out

of the bedroom.

 

We went into the kitchen and before I knew what was happening, he turned on the Kirby to

do the curtains...and it sucked them right off the rods.  "I guess I should have put it on low",

he said.  He also sucked up a three foot high bean plant.  I had been studying about germination in botany class and had germinated some pinto beans.  The bean plant was like Jack in the

Beanstalk.  It had taken off right toward Heaven and I was encouraging it by having daily talks

with it.  But now it had been sucked into a Kirby along with all  the bean seeds and what little

dirt was left in the pot.

 

"You've got to leave," I yelled at him.

 

"But we haven't talked about price yet," he insisted.

 

"We don't need to talk about price,  George, because I have absolutely no intention of buying

one of these things. It sucked the buttons off my couch, you idiot."

 

"Other than that, how did my presentation go?" he wanted to know.

 

"You were incredible.  Incrediably bad."  I felt like I was speaking from the heart.

 

George kept trying to sell the Kirby's using the free Pepsi's as a foot in the door.  He worked for

about four months and after not selling a single Kirby, he decided to quit.  He owed the company

$l87.00 for all the Pepsi's he had given away.  Probably the first salesman that had to pay his own company.  And that's bad.

 

 

 

 

The Art of Robert 7

CAROLINA VOICES

I DIDN'T SEE HOW I COULD RESIST

 

The direct mail flyer said "12 Pair of Eyeglasses Only $12...free shipping."  I couldn't believe my eyes.  Twelve pair of glasses...a

dollar each.  Sure, I know they are those cheap magnifying glasses,

but still...a dollar a pair was unbelievable.

 

I never have my glasses with me when I want to read something.  I'm always looking for them.  Last year I bought those plastic cords that you hook onto your glasses so they are always hanging around your neck. Then when I would go to read, I had to read through my breakfast oatmeal and other foodstuff.  And the cords broke within a week.  They aren't made like cafeteria trays.

 

This was the answer!  I could put glasses everywhere I roost during the day...back porch, nightstand, bathroom, kitchen, computer, car,

pocket...and I would still have five other pair to misplace. You had

a choice of 5 strengths...I've bought these things before and the lower

strengths don't do that much good.  But I was nervous getting the high

powered ones for fear they would make me cross-eyed.

 

Long ago before eyeglasses became a fashion statement...when I was a teenager...there was a saying that "boys never made passes at girl's who wore glasses."  You could tell which girls really needed glasses however...their dogs were a sure giveaway.  Actually my first love interest in the 8th grade was a girl who wore glasses.  But believe me,

nobody noticed her glasses!  She was built like a brick...well, you get the message.

 

I really hate it that glasses have become such a fashion statement because it means the frames now have designer logos and prices to

match.  When you go to an eyeglass place they've got hundreds to

choose from.  You make your selection only to discover that the price on the board only covers the frames.  The glass part is extra.

 

Last year I needed new prescription glasses.  I went to the doctor to get my eyes checked, but I went to Wal-Mart to order my glasses.

I took my old frames because I like them and they were still good.  So

when I talked to the salesperson, I told her I wanted new prescriptions put into the old frames.

 

She said, "We can do that, but it's still going to cost $180."

 

I said, "Why?"

 

She told me because I had not bought the glasses at Wal-Mart, they

would have to charge me the full price.  But I complained and told her

that I had in fact bought them at Wal-Mart.  Then she said, "Yes, but

it was more than a year ago, so I'm still going to have to charge full

price."

 

Usually at this point, smoke starts coming out of my ears and I start

ranting and raving...making a public spectacle out of myself.  But I

decided to try a different tact.

 

I looked at her very calmly and said, "You know, you are probably going to go the Hell for this."

 

She got so flustered...tried to explain to me that it was management's

decision and not hers.

 

I said, "Well, management is going to Hell, too.  There will be a whole

EyeWear Section in Hell."

 

When she wrote up my order, she said very quietly, "I'm only charging you for the glasses, not the frames."

 

I told her, "O.K.  You aren't going to Hell.  But management still is."

 

My wife laughed when I told her the story...but she was nervous because she claimed I would try to send people to Hell anytime I

didn't get my way.

 

"Damned right, Missy," I said.

 

"Why do people think you have the power to send them to Hell?" she

wanted to know.

 

I told her I had a very persuasive manner...that when I talked about Hell, I pointed to "down there" for emphasis.  Of course everyone isn't a Christian...but at Wal-Mart they are.

CAROLINA VOICES ARTICLE

Oh, Mother! What's Your Kid Doing on the Computer?

 

     Don't get me wrong.  I'm not saying that YOUR kid is doing anything strange on the computer.  But hundreds of kids are.  Probably millions.

 

    
     The computer games are bad enough.  But they should probably be the least of your worries.

 

     You've no doubt heard of MY SPACE; you might even have a page of your own.  Seems like everybody does.  It's one of the new and very

successful "friends" sites.  You put a picture of yourself and a brief profile, then people all over the world can write to you and offer to be your friend.

 

     Alyss wants to be my friend.  I can't imagine why since I posted a picture of Millard Fillmore on my site.  Of course maybe she likes the

way he looks.  I listed my age as 99.  Maybe Alyss is thinking, "It worked for Nicole Smith.  She found a multi-millionaire husband who

was 89 years old.  And found him just in time."  I don't think she met him on MY SPACE.  I think it was in a pole dancing place.

 

     People put pictures on their sites because they can easily now with their cell phones.  And, who knows?  They might be taking pictures of a checkout woman at the grocery store.  Friends are always asking for "unusual pictures" and there's where the trouble begins.  I can't imagine there's anything unusual left to show anymore.  Not that I personally look.  People have told me about the pictures (he says,

lying through his teeth).  I am really nervous about looking at pictures on the internet.  I'm afraid I will see one or more of my loved ones.

 

     I wouldn't believe anything I read or saw on these sites.  People fib

about their age.  They fib about their jobs.  They post fake pictures.

(I am not the only Millard Fillmore on MY SPACE...there are at least

eleven of us.  Will the real Millard Fillmore please stand up?)

 

     You are encouraged to chat with your "friends". I put that word in quotes because I doubt that they are really friends.  They won't come to your funeral or lend you a few bucks when you are short of cash.

And I don't like the word chat.  I wouldn't talk to anybody who came up to me and said, "Let's chat."  (A friend and I used to go to a greasy spoon cafe in Maryland called CHAT AND CHEW.  He loved the name.  There's a place near me in S.C. that's called SQUAT AND GOBBLE.  You don't have to chat there unless you really want to.

You just squat and eat.)

 

     The thing about chatting is that notices come through the computer while you are working on line that say:  "Marie wants to chat."  I'M WORKING!  And Maria knows I'm busy so why does she think I want to be interrupted to chat.

 

     The thing that really gets me is that the people on MY SPACE sound so perfect.  They are all beautiful.  They all have a great sense

of humor.  They all love to cuddle.  They all cry at sad movies.  If they are so ideal, why don't they have friends in their neighborhood? Makes you wonder.

 

     I have a friend who writes to women all over the world.  I keep telling him that anyone west of the Mississippi and across the Atlantic Ocean should be considered geographically undesirables.  But he

persists and he has a dozen Russian women begging him to send them money so they can come to America.   Scary.

 

      He doesn't send them any money.  He doesn't have any.  But he has travelled many, many miles to meet women.  And at today's

gasoline prices, you need to have honest people before you go driving off to Ohio.  He doesn't like chubby women (and that's a shortcoming

on his part)...but the woman from Ohio who sent him a picture and invited him to come visit was surely going to be overweight.  Her picture was a real close-up of her face...she looked thin.  How many

times have you heard, "She has such a pretty face" meaning the rest of her is B-I-G.  He wouldn't listen to me...drove up to see her and was surprised that she was B-I-G.  He said, "But she was a great cook."

Sure, and so is Denny.