Door-to-door salesmen have no soul.

Door-to-door sales is the worst, non-hazardous job on earth. If you’re desperate for money because of kids or debt or just not having luck finding work, then go for it. But to enjoy such a job, you have to be completely soulless. Dead inside. I don’t care how good you are. I don’t care if it comes naturally. If you’re so good, sell used cars; I’d have more respect for you. And my respect is what’s most important. I can say this because I’ve been on both sides. I’ve been bothered by kids selling newspaper subscriptions, grown men selling random shit, and whores-in-training selling cookies. I’ve also been a struggling student and had to take on such a job. Kinda. Around the end of 2001, the economy was shit and the unemployment rate was higher than a stripper before she takes the stage. I could not find steady work. I did temp work and I did work-study at the college, but that wasn’t paying for any of my books. I found an ad in the school paper for a marketing job opening. You’ve all seen the ad. “Marketing/Sales: No exp necessary. Willing to train. Possible 13.75/hr. Blah Blah Blah.” I should have known better when I saw the ‘No exp’ and the key word ‘possible’ (if your pay is only ‘possible’, your job sucks). I really needed money for books, so I scheduled an interview. They told me to wear a suit and tie. They should have told me to wear a jogging outfit and some comfortable shoes. I interview really well and I’ve often been offered the job at the end. I’ve never been asked to start the same day. I was officially an ‘advertiser’, which is bullshit talk for salesman. Apparently, it didn’t matter how much we sold as long as we got the word out. Obviously there would be no compensation for lack of sales. It was all downhill from there. When the person who I was supposed to shadow all day shook my hand and flashed a smile that included a gold tooth (one of the front ones no less), that downhill slide turned into a cliff dive. To his credit, he was a nice guy. He just loved his job more than he should have. Soulless. We carpooled with an even more enthused and soulless ‘advertiser’ along with his partner, a really attractive woman who wouldn't talk to you unless you drove something German that didn’t start with V. I was given a quick overview on our ‘product’ in the parking lot. I was ‘advertising’ coupons for some spa that no doubt gave out happy endings. Unfortunately my day would have no such happy ending. We started by hitting a local business crawl. Coincidently, near where my ex-girlfriend lived. I prayed she was already at work. I trucked along in my nicest dress shoes (I’m talking church-worthy) keeping count of the blisters that formed/popped while dodging puddles. I followed this ass into a hospital, law firm, and any other business where we could see a receptionist through the window. I guess he saw the ‘No Soliciting’ signs as invitations. Talk about degrading and boring. I got to the point where I would sit in the waiting rooms while he pitched his 'product' to an obviously annoyed receptionist/nurse/businessman. This continued until lunchtime (3pm or so) when we met with our fellow carpoolers at the local mall. Not one to miss opportunity, my partner decided to bug every fucking store there. I mentally flipped him off, then got some food. I snuck away and called everyone in my phonebook, hoping to find someone to come save me. My mom laughed and everyone else opted not to answer. Fuck you all. I guess my day wasn’t over yet. Our next stop was Brown’s Point. It’s an uppity (read: upper-class) neighborhood where the doors are made for basketball players and the cars in the driveways have kilometers on the dials. Not the place for a black man and his mixed trainee. Luckily, we didn’t get shot. We did, however, set our culture back 4-5 years. It got to the point where I would stand back and motion our victims not to buy anything and to slam the door. My partner wondered what he was doing wrong. I told him it was getting dark. He said to define dark. I was going to refer to the back of his mother’s neck, but I bit my tongue. After logging countless miles on my church shoes, we finally met up with our assholes with the car (by this time, I had enough of everyone) and we drove back to the office. I somehow kept smiling as I told the hiring manager how horrible her job was and I could never do this nor wish it on anyone I hated. The celebrating of the high seller that evening was drowning me out before she finally caught on to my frustration. Soulless cunt. Never again.