Back to the office...

It's been a long two months since my last post, and now its time to return from my vacation of sitting around watching ESPN to cure the withdrawals of my beloved readers.

For about 10 days from late July through early August, I was *fortunate* enough to have a brief tenure as a salesman for a local credit card processing company. This was a terrible mistake on my part and ended up being about as productive as an interrupted masturbation session.

The morning conference room where all the 'salespeople' (that's for all you politically correct fools) gathered for the morning meetings, had a sign on the wall next to the entrance that read 'no solicitors'. I assume this minor room detail probably went unnoticed by most of my co-workers, however I found it ironic that the sign would remain in a room completely full of, well, fucking solicitors.

In the three days I worked on my own, I went door-door to at least 140 businesses in a few different towns, and ended up selling absolutely NOTHING. In God's favorite organization, the National Football League, if a starting quarterback was to complete zero passes in 140 attempts; his head coach will probably demand that person not only change their occupation, but probably also have him gruesomely killed for disgracing the game so much. (Unless that quarterback was Michael Vick circa 2004, then he would then just get a pay raise and later go to jail for involvement in Virginia dogfighting rings.)

With the evaluation that I could not make one sale in over 100+ tries, I decided that being a salesman is simply not for me. Even though I was only a few days into the job, they do say time is money, and when I'm spending valuable hours of my day (that could be spent just as productively laying around and playing video games) not getting any money.... then it's time to choose a new path. In Arthur Miller's masterpiece 'Death of a Salesman', main character Willy Loman kills himself at the end of the play partly because he's a shitty salesman and he hates himself and his family. With that in mind, I will not let myself be resigned to the same fate.

My glorious last day at the job was spent taking naps in Portuguese bakeries and zoning out watching Jericho Turnpike traffic on an 80-year-old chair outside of an antique shop.(Ironically, both places I took breaks in or around, turned my down my poor attempts at sales offers).

Sometimes that's all it takes for a man to ponder a career change.