I.
I started two weeks ago. My life hasn’t been the same since. I’d like to start this story from a later point, when I’ve already become “brainwashed” but I’m afraid that I will forget to pen anything at all and be cast into the sales world to forget who I truly am. Read this when you can, make sure to read this and learn from my lessons, just please read this so you don’t have to go through what I am going through.
A cautionary tale of lies and deception as told by a liar and deceiver.
Spoiler Alert: The fat lady will sing…
The ad was on Craigslist and JobsinME, so frequently posted that even the newest of web job-surfers were getting sick of looking at the dumb graphics and annoying mainstream-green header, the color of an unentertaining cartoon frog. The job title was either “outbound sales” or “inbound sales”, the gamblers choice. Not knowing dick about the sales world, I chose to subscribe my email to the outbound demon, trying to find twelve other jobs and feeling assured that this one would be like the others, just another application to be left dusty on the internet windowsill, never loved, never returned, never cared for.
I had to get a goddamn job. I wasn’t piss-broke but I was breaking, and not only was the entire money situation getting too tight to rent in Portland, but it was breaking the relationship that I came up here to nourish in the first place…
II.
Update: It’s been three weeks since I have had a chance to pen anything about the new job. Let me take you back.
My resume which accompanied the application email must have been received, processed, folded, unfolded, and approved within a day by HR because Dr. Natural called requesting an in-person interview a few days later. When I arrived at the office, I was greeted by a friendly receptionist sitting behind a pod of a desk, only the top half of her face showing over the high front as I took my first steps into the dungeon. Signing in and waiting, I took in the initial hum of the florescent lighting like high school, college, and the dentist. A drop ceiling, of course, short wall to wall carpet, the just-noticeable voice of a talk-radio personality somewhere above. I waited for Andrea, apparently, who would be interviewing me in a few moments.
She stood short and plump, a happy older woman whom I would be glad to talk with and laugh next to any day, which is exactly what we did. After she unfolded my resume to ask about each job and my qualifications, she then handed me a pen and asked me to sell it to her. I improvised high-tech names for the features (stainless, shatter resistant, polyurethane coated, gravity loaded, spring action released), she was happy to buy it back, but mentioned that I never asked why she would even want a pen in the first place.
I was now here at Dr. Naturals to sell vitamins and supplements, and shouldn’t I know why people would like to purchase our products? Shouldn’t I ask them what the main health concern in their life is? Wouldn’t it be great if they didn’t have to deal with that sore shoulder anymore? Wouldn’t it be nice to get outside and play with their grandchildren again, and not have to worry about getting out of bed the next day because of that bad back? (yes, Yes, YES, YESS!!!)
Training started immediately and for two weeks I learned about tie-downs (see previous paragraph), cross-sells, greetings, messages, products, and the sales process, including but not limited to disputing rebuttals, omitting unnecessary details, pretending to care, showing enthusiasm, and eventually becoming a believer.
After the two weeks, one of which included the great blizzard of 2013, Nemo, I was given a desk, a chair, a headset, and an inch thick stack of phone numbers. They told me to dial and dial I did. I think the initial week I was averaging about 35 dials an hour, then they told me to talk more, so talk more I did. It all became so serious and absorbing in such a short time. With metrics and new policies came more paperwork and meetings, through which I surfaced, finally on the other side of my first sale. It was for a three-month supply of a top-selling oil capsule, a body lube of sorts that makes burps taste like the fish market. I had fallen into rank and I didn’t blink. The rush of the sale is something I’ve felt a few times since, and it always mixes with adrenalin and embarrassment. I know I can be a good salesman but the environment is so sticky with greed and dream-bubbles of commission that my conscience questions my motives, if you know what I mean.
Sparing the details, I am still working here and do not rely on commission just yet. The first three months after training is a trial period with an hourly wage and a little hazing from the management. I suppose I am nearing the end of month one and feel no strong pull towards telesales. The secret now is to build a client base and sell them only three-month supplies as to have another sale in three months, because now they’re hooked. Then the next time they buy their favorite product, you sell a different one too, and now they love two products. Then the cars, the parties, the nice shoes, and the will of man will all be within reach.
So glad to know I made a difference.
It’s really not a big deal. It’s just another job, though i’m not sure I always felt this way. I remember at the beginning feeling odd and rebellious, wanting to infiltrate and spy on the hot shits who ripped off the elderly, stripping the social security check from their decrepit claw before it could start to get oily (the check).
The break room is a depressing pit; no windows, long, thin in shape and desirability. When they gave us our first tour, the woman made sure to point out a Wii. Haven’t seen it since. In the later part of the evenings, when one or two managers have left for the night, we like to sneak in there anyways, me and the other greenhorns, eyes glistening with computer screen torture. We crack jokes and try to squeeze one last little bit of enjoyment and relaxation into the slaved-away day.
K-Cups are only seventy-five cents, there’s a continual supply of coffee cups, creamer, and sugar, and I’ve hung up photos of waves that a coworker gave me…
III.
I’ve been on commission for a couple weeks now. Health insurance is about to kick in. I still just sit in the cubicle all day, calling and selling, sitting and dialing, typing and staring, screaming and soothing, crying and dying. Well, I’m not dying, but some people on the other end of the line have passed away. It makes for awkward conversation when you ask a grieving man or woman if the deceased parent is available to chat about their health.
The turn-over rate of employees isn’t surprising. There are a few veterans and even a relatively new hire who are just built for sales. Built like brick shit-houses. They toil with the lives of others; innocent-elderly and enthusiastic-youth. A new drink came out of Silicon Valley called soylent. It has everything you need to survive and your farts won’t smell anymore. Some customers of mine would jump at the idea of a fully supplemented diet. A sleek-slick lifestyle fully optimized for efficiency. I also know some people against supplements in general, believing in and practicing local sustainable nutrition. Farm-to-table people are awesome, nutritionists are awesome, supplement-hounds are great, skeptics are awesome, and to each his own.
This job sucks toast. The atmosphere is bleak and full of hot air. The computer screen is burning my brain and the chair is bending my back but it’s putting food on my table. It’s about to be less lousy because with time comes one of two things: power or weakness. I choose power. I’m going to quit! I just need to get a physical and visit the dentist with my new insurance plan first.
Tricking customers from the shadows.
IV.
I went to the doctor and got my physical three days ago and went to the dentist for my initial visit today. The blood work cam back from my physical and I’m clean as a whistle, the dentist scheduled my cleaning for this Monday coming up. Seeing how everything is well with my body I see no need to keep this job for the insurance. For this most recent week I have only tricked a few helpless elders in re-upping their supplies. My apologies, unless the supplements I sold you are actually working to your benefit. I hope they are.
Since my appointments with the doc and dentist I have really been slacking off and looking for a reason to quit. There isn’t much else to do for me seeing how I’ve already made the conscious decision to move on. I asked HR about the insurance policies and, through subtle hinting and ambiguous wording, found out that insurance will last until the end of the month in which I quit. That puts my two week notice at next wednesday to get the full free month of benefits. It feels weird to have a death date on my present paycheck, especially since I don’t have another job lined up, but that proves how much I really can’t stand this place. I’ll be ending my employment on July 1st and moving back in to the world of uncertainties which thrills me to no end. I haven’t spied, I haven’t found anything out about myself that I didn’t already know, and I haven’t accomplished anything except paying the rent.
Important, but not what I seek. Not even close. Next time we talk I may have already put in the notice.
V.
I put in my two week notice two weeks ago tomorrow, that it to say, tomorrow is my last day. Time really slowed down at the old phone-trough. It really surprised me how much I hated dragging my ass there Monday through Friday. I was working for the weekend. I lost sight of the assignment.
When the alarm goes off at noon and you don’t want to wake up yet, that’s a low point. When you think of an excuse to leave early, then make a checklist of excuses so you don’t use the same one twice, that’s a low point also. As frivolous as our life becomes, our life becomes, our life becomes, be comes, B. Combs. The list of funny names I walked away with is priceless. People payed with a credit card bearing names so unfathomably disrespectful for the bearer that it requires questioning the sanity of the parent. I’ll say no more.
VI.
One week later, full freedom, not a weak week, not an indoor communication hub where you never see the eyes of the sucker on the other line, not a prison, not a hard week. The easiest stretch of the year. 8 days of freedom to be exact and on every one I have gone swimming. Beat that, office job!
This past week I worked outside and I played outside. Reading back on my journey through Dr. Naturals made me realize how much I learned “inside”. Mostly that I prefer outside. That sales job really ate me up. It changed me in a negative way with little positive outcome. Inspiration for writing can come in an uncountable number of ways. I heard that thousands of years ago humans attributed creativity to a spirit that passes through the creator and hands off an idea. This time I forced it and used writing as medicine to get me through the journey. Writing, beer, coffee, weed, and even a little tobacco. Not to mention the…
Anyway, I am so much happier now. I picked the hottest week in a Maine summer to start working outside, doing my landscaping thing. A seasonal gig, no doubt, but I have enough money to hold me over through the summer on top of a designated driver job that I may have to write about as well. There’s a book’s worth of stories when you drive drunk people home in their own car. The point is that I’m happier now. Here’s to that. Here’s to writing and going to the beach to drink beers! Here’s to cheer’s-ing through the internet!
This drink goes out to all the suckers and the sucked. The world wouldn’t be what it is without you. Sláinte!
shawndiggins 