I would've much rather been thought of as a first class private, a soldier on the front lines for General Biscuit, instead of "Angel Cakes," the rookie with no apparent goals. After talking to an experienced cookie/cracker sales representative named Dick, a veteran who covered the inner city of Detroit, I sometimes felt like I might be preparing for battle without a weapon. I knew to listen to his advice; he had the highest volume of product sold for the past ten years. Ironically, no one wanted his territory. The other sales reps offered their condolences when they heard I'd be covering Dick's stores. But hey, he deserved a vacation just like everyone else, and I was the anointed swingman.He had some simple rules for me to follow:
"Always park your car near the front door of each party store," he began. "Leave all your signs and samples inside the car and not in the trunk, unless you want to be stuffed in it." I nodded, showing him I understood. "Never rotate the stock, regardless of what the store manager tells you." He saw that I looked puzzled; as a stockboy I knew that you always rotate the stock. "Rats," he explained. "Also, don't stay on the route past two in the afternoon because the crack heads wake up by then and they'll pester the shit out of you."
He convinced the district manager to let me ride shotgun with him for a few days before giving me complete reign of his turf. I learned some valuable lessons about shoppers in the hood. Store after store, customers would interrupt me--excuse me sir, they'd apologize, my eyes are bad, could you tell me what it says on this here box? After awhile, Dick shook his head. "His eyes aren't bad JR, the poor bastard can't read." It never occurred to me how helpless, how uneducated, some folks were.
I also learned that you could purchase one or two cigarettes instead of the whole pack. I once asked a man why he didn't buy a whole carton of eggs instead of the two he had in his hand. "This is my breakfast," he said, "I can’t be buying for everyone."
What bothered me the most was all the questionable merchandise—stereo equipment, boom boxes, television sets, watches, jewelry etc.—in the back storage rooms. I discovered that a few party store owners fenced items for a handsome profit. I can only imagine, as Michigan's economy declines, that this will be on the rise.
10 comments:
Hi, JR: What an experience. We forget about the "helpless and uneducated" too often, I fear. You wonder how they make it day to day. What or whoever the Divine is, perhaps put you there to learn. We are always where we are meant to be. Sometimes we just don't know why-immediately. Bet it has influenced your writing in some ways.
Donnetta
Jim, cool post. Have you ever seen Malcolm McDowell in O Lucky Man!? Your salesman adventures remind of the first part of that strange strange trip of a movie. All you need is a soundtrack -- or maybe a new video?
JR,
Your steadfast writing highly qualifies you to tell the story of why you blog when you started, etc. at my latenight post.
Isn't it creepy to be at work in places that are so, well, questionable? As a graphic artist freelancer I was once sent to a very shady place. Sort of a pyramid scheme place. I was putting together their newsletter, and there was a whole article on how to do your business without ever using your social security number - basically hiding your profits from the government. I finally called the agency and told them everything I had seen and told them not to send me there again.
How wonderful that you were able to learn from that sales rep. He was a man who could see with compassion and understanding - see beyond the "obvious."
That egg story is so sad. It's a great moment to have captured. The dialogue is wonderful.
What an interesting life you have had. You seem to have been in some dangerous situations (and still are?) in some of your jobs. There is a bittersweetness (is that a word?) to them, sort of like a John Steinbeck novel.
Josie
I'm glad you got some on the job training with the guy before they turned you lose. Could have been bad.
Jim, That was good that you had some help from the other guy! Can you imagine moving around the stock and having rats run by you?? But, you are used to this kind of stuff. The real rats and human rats!!!! Good post. --Bro, Ron
Welcome to south of 8 mile road, everything you say is true. Cigarettes bought singly are more expensive and give the store owner a larger profit than if the purchaser was able to buy the pack...sometimes they sell for .35 a smoke but that's easier to come up with than 5.00 for a pack. Do the math.
And the fencing really is selling knock offs from China buy a Rolex for ten bucks.
But the literacy rate is terrible, one of my very best neighbors only learned to read during his 8 year hit and guess where he got his GED. So you guys are doing some good for them that are determined.
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