the salesman knocked on the door. making me jump. I walked over and opened it up, seeing the suited man. “hello, may i interest you in this…” “no” I closed the door and walked back to my couch. salesmen are the most annoying type of men, I hated listening to them. why should i? i do what i want.
The door slammed once more in the man’s face. Luckily, he learned by now to stay a good distance away from the door, to avoid an otherwise inevitable injury. He was a traveling salesmen, one of the few that remained. Attempting to sell an obsolete product in a obsolete way, he stubbornly refused that the internet was the new way to shop. He believed in a simpler time, when human interaction was not confined to behind the gentle glow of a computer screen. This wasn’t the first time the door was slammed immediately on his face, nor did he believe it would be the last. Gathering his things, the salesperson put on a brave smile, carried his briefcase filled to the brim with info upon his product, and proudly began his trek to his next possible (but not probable) customer.
I feel like one. Always pestering people, them pestering me. It’s not really the money handling that bothers me, it’s the way that people sigh about the high cost of shipping. The way that they get mad at me when their packages don’t get delivered on time. I’m never going to get rid of this stupid headset.
There was a fierce rap at the door as if someone was about to be scolded, a broken window perhaps or a bike left in a driveway, but it was a stranger, a man with a large briefcase who looked stern and taut with frustration.
Crinkled suit and dusty shoes, a salesman, some kind of salesman.
buy products you don’t really need. refrigerators to Eskimos, car doors to people who own wagons, ice cream machines to people with no hands stuff like that its insanity at its finest but salesman do serve a function – I guess.
“Dude have you read Death of a Salesman? Some sad fucking shit right there. Just, ugh. The futility of the American dream and all that. Fuckin heavy man. Fuck.”
The salesman was very interesting looking , he has a long nose ,greasy hair and was about 6.4 he looked about 23 and had cat fur stuck to his stained shirt. “Can I help you with anything” He said as he smiled. His teeth were crooked and mossy looking.
He looked like a salesman. But not a very good one. There were the tell tale signs of better times with larger closing ratios…his large portfolio had seen better days.
One day the radio salesman came by my door. He knocked twice and walked away. He remembered the last time. I told him it is the year 3067 an people don’t listed to radios anymore. Frequent time travel tends to cause amnesia.
As a business owner, I find myself regularly becoming a salesman for the company. I usually do not like trying to sell something to anyone, but i truly believe we offer a great product as a fair price, so playing the role of a salesman is not so bad.
His tired eyes were dull and lifeless. Blue irises that once held a passion and joy but looking at them now you could hardly tell that. He was tired, to put it mildly. A lifetime of research and hardwork– not to mention an incredible amount of money that he was still attempting to earn back- and what did he have to show for it? Not a damn thing.
salesmen should be nice people but if they are not i understand bec ause they have mundane jobs (if you choose to see it like that) selling things is an adeenture in which you get to meet new people all the time and perfect your selling wys or you can choose to look at it like a chore, either way being a salesman is a way of life.
If I had to make a living as a salesman, I’d starve. I couldn’t even sell water in the middle of the Sahara. It just wouldn’t work for me.
No, that profession is for someone else, although having a few sales skills would still be helpful. “Selling yourself” in the business sense is important— but I’m no good at that either.
Now,
You see,
Society has changed us.
Salesmen are now the worshipped,
And the pastors the wronged.
Who knows what will happen next,
Maybe we’ll be speaking dog.
This is someone who shows up at your door. They are often associated with sleeze, but really they are just trying to make a living and succeed in life. Occasionally, they lie, but I hope that they will always be honest. When they approach, always smile but be wary!
I will not comply, that was the clear thought that Herman had that day as he ambled in the sunshine, I will make my own rules and be damned with em.
Lurking in the shadows, a salesman was ready to exploit this recklessness, pitching with the charm of a honey dipped magician. Things went extremely well throughout, and the close came swiftly and smoothly, without objection… except when it came to signing the line~ without hesitation, Herman threw the pen into the bushes and skipped off, cackling manically.
the samesman is a fella of the utmost deceptive nature, he will do anything to get you to buy or purchase his stuff. he’ll eloquently flirt and flit with your emotion until you show him that you’re interested. then he’s hooked, he cant get enough, he’s badger and barter until his collar is ruffed
i use to hate salesman—maybe only cause i was a poor one. that was until i realized that i’m a salesman everyday. selling dreams, hope, love, life, truth, sincerity, peace, strength. selling it ALL—and for free! what better salesman than that?
He spent his life selling things, but in reality, he was selling himself. Each door he nearly forced himself into was another part of him being given away.
I always wonder why they do the job that they do. Is it actually fulfilling or a means to an end? It always just seems like they’re doing it because they have to. Who would want to be so ignored and so rebuffed so many times in so little time?
Ugh… He was back again. That dreaded salesman who came at the same time everyday to my home. It was getting extremely annoying at this point. No matter how many times I rejected him, he always came back. I have to give him points for his determination, though :/
Crisp suit, owns his desperation like a badge of courage. Middle income family, housewife, three kids, long hours. Door to door to door hoping that someone will empty his briefcase of product and fill his pockets with the money needed to sustain his family. Old shoes–need shining.
I avoided the salesman as I browsed the items in the store. I dodged around trying to avoid catching his eye. I just wanted to browse and see what was there without some nosy person trying to make a sale. If I need help, I’ll ask, thank you very much.
step step. I hear the patter of footsteps up my stairs
knock knock. I hear the loud, forceful rap of knuckles against my door
hello?
hello ma’am. is your mother at home?
no. she is dead.
oh. an uncomfortable look. is your father at home?
no.
okay..
step step. I hear the patter of footsteps down my stairs.
When he knocked on our door that day, I wasn’t expecting anything spectacular, or out of the ordinary. But what happened from that point forward, well, that’s a story for another day.
He walked to the door, the bottoms of his feet bouncing, his pompous manner very evident. He had no idea of the day or really life that was awaiting him, all he had to do was ring the doorbell. When he saw her, he thought she was beautiful, beautiful and reckless, when she saw him she thought he needed a drink.
you pull me in by the lips
teeth sinking into tender flesh
worrying it red
i don’t have time for this
but i let you invite yourself in
and lock the door behind you
you’re the best
kind of salesman
i actually wanted to be one of those fellows as of late, I don’t think it’s gonna stick though. I’m weird like that . I’d make a damn fine salesman though, damn fine. I’m a smile away from anyt
Oh, Mr. Salesman, you wily old bastard! You slimy, sweet-talking, handsome young man! Oh, Mr. Salesman! Yes, I will take one! I will bow my head, and drink wine with you.
As a matter of fact, I have been collecting salesman since a very small age. I have many salesman figurines sitting on my bookshelf. But for the longest time I agreed with conformist society and called them turtles. But now I know better. They are Salesmen!
His skin is inches from mine, but might as well be miles.
I force conversation; he gives me empty smiles.
Now a shell of the man I once knew him to be
I didn’t know I could miss someone right next to me.
he was lonesome, he didn’t really care. there were days when around everyone he would notice things different and that was ok. the salesman needed not to fit in. he needed to be different. otherwise there was nothing to offer.
A sly and crisp salesman pounding on the door, in the rain-slick dreary mess. The woman, disheveled, answers, confused, listens and shortly closes the door.
The salesman tried again, a different tactic this time. “Don’t you want eternal life? Don’t you want to live forever? To make an impact? It is so easy. Really! Just talk to him about it, he’ll take your heart and keep it beating. You can do it; I know you want to.”
Acheiver, confidence, people person who enjoys working for and with others. Good Values and commitment to their company and their product. Natural ability to share
The salesman walked up to the door, with his freshly polished shoes and his mask of a grin. “I’m ready,” he said to himself quietly. He shook and shivered from head to toe, warming himself up, trying to get in the mindset. Suitcase in hand, he was ready to advertise his product–and he would make a sale today, even if it killed him.
my gram was a great salesperson. she was even better than gramps and he was being paid to sell. he flew all over on continnetal airlines. gram would just walk down to the supermarket and sell her message of faith to anyone at all. all the checkout people new her by name. who knows what they thought of her but she certainly got kudos for
the salesman knocked on the door. making me jump. I walked over and opened it up, seeing the suited man. “hello, may i interest you in this…” “no” I closed the door and walked back to my couch. salesmen are the most annoying type of men, I hated listening to them. why should i? i do what i want.
The door slammed once more in the man’s face. Luckily, he learned by now to stay a good distance away from the door, to avoid an otherwise inevitable injury. He was a traveling salesmen, one of the few that remained. Attempting to sell an obsolete product in a obsolete way, he stubbornly refused that the internet was the new way to shop. He believed in a simpler time, when human interaction was not confined to behind the gentle glow of a computer screen. This wasn’t the first time the door was slammed immediately on his face, nor did he believe it would be the last. Gathering his things, the salesperson put on a brave smile, carried his briefcase filled to the brim with info upon his product, and proudly began his trek to his next possible (but not probable) customer.
I feel like one. Always pestering people, them pestering me. It’s not really the money handling that bothers me, it’s the way that people sigh about the high cost of shipping. The way that they get mad at me when their packages don’t get delivered on time. I’m never going to get rid of this stupid headset.
There was a fierce rap at the door as if someone was about to be scolded, a broken window perhaps or a bike left in a driveway, but it was a stranger, a man with a large briefcase who looked stern and taut with frustration.
Crinkled suit and dusty shoes, a salesman, some kind of salesman.
buy products you don’t really need. refrigerators to Eskimos, car doors to people who own wagons, ice cream machines to people with no hands stuff like that its insanity at its finest but salesman do serve a function – I guess.
“Dude have you read Death of a Salesman? Some sad fucking shit right there. Just, ugh. The futility of the American dream and all that. Fuckin heavy man. Fuck.”
“Why did you even bring that up?”
“Depressed.”
“Oh.”
The salesman was very interesting looking , he has a long nose ,greasy hair and was about 6.4 he looked about 23 and had cat fur stuck to his stained shirt. “Can I help you with anything” He said as he smiled. His teeth were crooked and mossy looking.
He looked like a salesman. But not a very good one. There were the tell tale signs of better times with larger closing ratios…his large portfolio had seen better days.
One day the radio salesman came by my door. He knocked twice and walked away. He remembered the last time. I told him it is the year 3067 an people don’t listed to radios anymore. Frequent time travel tends to cause amnesia.
As a business owner, I find myself regularly becoming a salesman for the company. I usually do not like trying to sell something to anyone, but i truly believe we offer a great product as a fair price, so playing the role of a salesman is not so bad.
His tired eyes were dull and lifeless. Blue irises that once held a passion and joy but looking at them now you could hardly tell that. He was tired, to put it mildly. A lifetime of research and hardwork– not to mention an incredible amount of money that he was still attempting to earn back- and what did he have to show for it? Not a damn thing.
salesmen should be nice people but if they are not i understand bec ause they have mundane jobs (if you choose to see it like that) selling things is an adeenture in which you get to meet new people all the time and perfect your selling wys or you can choose to look at it like a chore, either way being a salesman is a way of life.
If I had to make a living as a salesman, I’d starve. I couldn’t even sell water in the middle of the Sahara. It just wouldn’t work for me.
No, that profession is for someone else, although having a few sales skills would still be helpful. “Selling yourself” in the business sense is important— but I’m no good at that either.
Now,
You see,
Society has changed us.
Salesmen are now the worshipped,
And the pastors the wronged.
Who knows what will happen next,
Maybe we’ll be speaking dog.
This is someone who shows up at your door. They are often associated with sleeze, but really they are just trying to make a living and succeed in life. Occasionally, they lie, but I hope that they will always be honest. When they approach, always smile but be wary!
This is a job, but remember there are salesWOMEN
I will not comply, that was the clear thought that Herman had that day as he ambled in the sunshine, I will make my own rules and be damned with em.
Lurking in the shadows, a salesman was ready to exploit this recklessness, pitching with the charm of a honey dipped magician. Things went extremely well throughout, and the close came swiftly and smoothly, without objection… except when it came to signing the line~ without hesitation, Herman threw the pen into the bushes and skipped off, cackling manically.
the samesman is a fella of the utmost deceptive nature, he will do anything to get you to buy or purchase his stuff. he’ll eloquently flirt and flit with your emotion until you show him that you’re interested. then he’s hooked, he cant get enough, he’s badger and barter until his collar is ruffed
i use to hate salesman—maybe only cause i was a poor one. that was until i realized that i’m a salesman everyday. selling dreams, hope, love, life, truth, sincerity, peace, strength. selling it ALL—and for free! what better salesman than that?
He spent his life selling things, but in reality, he was selling himself. Each door he nearly forced himself into was another part of him being given away.
I always wonder why they do the job that they do. Is it actually fulfilling or a means to an end? It always just seems like they’re doing it because they have to. Who would want to be so ignored and so rebuffed so many times in so little time?
Rejections, the daily routine of a salesman, but still, a smile is all that he can show.
Ugh… He was back again. That dreaded salesman who came at the same time everyday to my home. It was getting extremely annoying at this point. No matter how many times I rejected him, he always came back. I have to give him points for his determination, though :/
Crisp suit, owns his desperation like a badge of courage. Middle income family, housewife, three kids, long hours. Door to door to door hoping that someone will empty his briefcase of product and fill his pockets with the money needed to sustain his family. Old shoes–need shining.
I avoided the salesman as I browsed the items in the store. I dodged around trying to avoid catching his eye. I just wanted to browse and see what was there without some nosy person trying to make a sale. If I need help, I’ll ask, thank you very much.
step step. I hear the patter of footsteps up my stairs
knock knock. I hear the loud, forceful rap of knuckles against my door
hello?
hello ma’am. is your mother at home?
no. she is dead.
oh. an uncomfortable look. is your father at home?
no.
okay..
step step. I hear the patter of footsteps down my stairs.
When he knocked on our door that day, I wasn’t expecting anything spectacular, or out of the ordinary. But what happened from that point forward, well, that’s a story for another day.
He walked to the door, the bottoms of his feet bouncing, his pompous manner very evident. He had no idea of the day or really life that was awaiting him, all he had to do was ring the doorbell. When he saw her, he thought she was beautiful, beautiful and reckless, when she saw him she thought he needed a drink.
you pull me in by the lips
teeth sinking into tender flesh
worrying it red
i don’t have time for this
but i let you invite yourself in
and lock the door behind you
you’re the best
kind of salesman
i actually wanted to be one of those fellows as of late, I don’t think it’s gonna stick though. I’m weird like that . I’d make a damn fine salesman though, damn fine. I’m a smile away from anyt
Oh, Mr. Salesman, you wily old bastard! You slimy, sweet-talking, handsome young man! Oh, Mr. Salesman! Yes, I will take one! I will bow my head, and drink wine with you.
Salesmen are turtles.
Yes you heard me correctly: Turtles.
As a matter of fact, I have been collecting salesman since a very small age. I have many salesman figurines sitting on my bookshelf. But for the longest time I agreed with conformist society and called them turtles. But now I know better. They are Salesmen!
His skin is inches from mine, but might as well be miles.
I force conversation; he gives me empty smiles.
Now a shell of the man I once knew him to be
I didn’t know I could miss someone right next to me.
he was lonesome, he didn’t really care. there were days when around everyone he would notice things different and that was ok. the salesman needed not to fit in. he needed to be different. otherwise there was nothing to offer.
A sly and crisp salesman pounding on the door, in the rain-slick dreary mess. The woman, disheveled, answers, confused, listens and shortly closes the door.
The salesman scratched his head in confusion as he gazed at his assistant’s newest acquisition. “How are we supposed to sell that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” the young man replied, “just stick it in the front window and see who comes by.”
I’d rather be an engineer.
The salesman tried again, a different tactic this time. “Don’t you want eternal life? Don’t you want to live forever? To make an impact? It is so easy. Really! Just talk to him about it, he’ll take your heart and keep it beating. You can do it; I know you want to.”
Acheiver, confidence, people person who enjoys working for and with others. Good Values and commitment to their company and their product. Natural ability to share
The salesman walked up to the door, with his freshly polished shoes and his mask of a grin. “I’m ready,” he said to himself quietly. He shook and shivered from head to toe, warming himself up, trying to get in the mindset. Suitcase in hand, he was ready to advertise his product–and he would make a sale today, even if it killed him.
my gram was a great salesperson. she was even better than gramps and he was being paid to sell. he flew all over on continnetal airlines. gram would just walk down to the supermarket and sell her message of faith to anyone at all. all the checkout people new her by name. who knows what they thought of her but she certainly got kudos for