A Day Called Way Back

I remember the first time I walked inside of a machine room. I was about to embark on a change that would be bigger than I assumed.
I was previously a salesman. Better yet, I was a kid in a suit and tie and too baby-faced, too wet behind the ears and too frustrated with me, myself, and my life to be good at anything.
I found some luck after helping an old friend. He was down on his luck and drinking vodka all day. A mutual friend took notice and asked me, “What do you want to do with your life?”

The truth is I didn’t know. I didn’t know who or what I wanted to be.
I had no idea about these things. I had no idea about my future—and besides, it’s like I always said back then, “the future is for old people.”
And I wasn’t old.
yet . . .

I was a failure as a salesman. I had no passion for this either, which was mainly because I had no passion, nor zest, nor any drive or zeal to perfect the salesmanship of selling buttons, buckles, and zipper-pulls to garment manufacturers.  

What a bitch that was . . .

None of what I did was inspiring to me. Nothing sent me home with a feeling of accomplishment. No, not at all.
In fact, the bulk of my business was small at best. I had a few accounts that kept me afloat.
At the same time, the sales business is filled with rejection. I had doors slammed in my face. I was cursed at. My sales manager threw a stapler at my head. I was humiliated more than once and lied to as regularly as the wind changes direction.

I couldn’t take it anymore.
I swore that a day was coming soon. I swore that I would remove the mask and the smile. I would draw my line in the sand and stand up for myself.
And I did.
I did this to a big name at a big account. I made the switch after listening to a woman berate me for not being able to deliver the impossible.
I explained why I could not give her the samples she wanted or make them. After her tirade, I let the mask drop. I fired back and said my thoughts with no uncertainties.

“I’m going to tell your boss what you just said to me!” said the woman on the other end of the call.
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I’m going in his office right now to tell him what I told you myself.”
“Okay, then, fine!” she said.
“But what about my samples?”
“What about’em!” I said and then I hung up the phone.
I went into my boss’s office and told him, “I quit!”

That was my last day as a salesman.

I think about the way companies recruit young people and offer them the world and promise the stars.

A friend of mine thought he was going to be a millionaire. He had plans to be a stockbroker. He was studying for his tests and licensing. Meanwhile, he was on the phone all day trying to create business for the brokers at his firm.
They call this cold calling.
You keep calling people and selling them a pitch until someone buys.

For this case, we are going to make up names to protect someone’s anonymity. However, in the case of “Davis Jones,” his last cold call went something like this.
“Good morning, Mr. Smith. It’s Davis Jones getting back to you about an opportunity to invest your money in a brand-new way.”
Mr. Smith replied, “Mr. Jones! I’m really glad you called me.”
Next, Mr. Smith advised, “Look, about fucking your mother. Don’t worry. I won’t do it again!” and then Mr. Smith hung up the phone on my friend “Davis Jones.”

Similarly to me, my friend went into his manager’s office.
He told the manager, “Sorry, but this job isn’t for me.”

This happened around the same time as my failed sales pitch.
But, I had a new chance to try something else.
My mutual friend liked how I helped someone when they were down and out.
He offered me a job and an opportunity to be a union worker. I had the chance to learn a skilled trade and earn a good union wage.

I remember thinking, “I’ll just do this until I figure out what I want to do with my life.”
I was 26 and about to turn 27. The girl I was with opened her eyes and realized that I was not only not living up to my potential, but I was also not a good match, nor was I a good person for her and her future.
I took the position and thought to myself, “I’ll just do this for now.”
And here I am at 52, 26 years later.
Still doing he same work.
I have advanced. I have improved and earned my pay.
But, at the same time, there are days when I think about how this started.
I think about the word temporary and how temporary things can become permanent.

I’m not so sure what I want to do with my life now.
My state recognized mental health credentials are coming close to the expiration date.

I used to have help with this.
But no one is around to help me anymore.

As for the memory of the first time I walked into a machine room –
I was intimidated by everything.
I remember thinking, I’ll do this until something else opens up.

Going forward, and as I consider the retirement years, I have made a deal with myself that whatever I choose to do and wherever I choose to be, I just want to be happy.
And where was I happiest most?
Well, with you, of course.
But changes are changes and life is filled with them.

It’s wild to think about how long I’ve been on this path.
It’s crazier to think that the new generation I meet is even younger than I was when I started in this field.
I often wonder if I seemed as entitled to my previous generation.

God, these kids drive me crazy.

You know?