I laughed when I got that first email. I don't know why I bothered to open it. It was probably a bunch of guys wanting to participate in threesomes. When I got the auto-response with the orientation meeting information, I stopped laughing. I've been coming to the evening meetings for six months. It's time I took my turn on the stool.
"Hi, I'm Ed, and I'm a cuckold."
"Hi, Ed."
When I was in high school, I loved working with wood making model airplanes, all kinds of stuff. When I graduated, I figured the perfect job for me would be carpentry. Pounding nails eight hours a day wasn't as much fun as one hour three times a week in wood shop. I stuck with it for a couple years before throwing in the hammer.
Next I tried fast food. What's so difficult about cooking a hamburger? It's easy. Try doing two hundred an hour during lunch rush. They all have to stay on the grill for the same amount of time, so they come out properly cooked. You can't fall behind or the customers become impatient. You can't get ahead, or they get cold and have to be thrown out.
After a couple weeks of flipping burgers, I started digging through the Sunday want ads. My wife showed me a sales job she thought would be perfect for me. I didn't know anything about selling. I had never done it before. It was a foreign to me as a Cuban cigar was to a nonsmoker. Wearing a suit and tie was the last thing I wanted to do. The pay was strictly commission. No sales meant no paycheck. The harder I resisted the ad, the harder Connie pushed me to at least apply. Finally I gave in to shut her up.
I arrived at the office ten minutes after it opened. There was already a large crowd of people in the waiting room. They looked like they were born in suits. They chatted amongst themselves like they were old friends. I glanced around the room hoping to find an excuse to run away, but the receptionist caught my eye. Damn, that woman was hot. Her tits were huge. Connie's no slouch in the bra department, but this dame made her look flat-chested. Her blouse was unbuttoned down to the nipple level exposing her ample cleavage. It was so thin you could easily see she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples pushed out the material, and she didn't seem to care.
"Are you here for the sales position?" she asked.
"Ah...yes, ma'am," I said.
She handed me a clipboard with some forms on it. "Bring these back to me when you've completed them," she said smiling. "You may attach your resumé if you have one."
A resumé? I hadn't thought about one. I wouldn't have known how to make one even if I had remembered it. I took the clipboard and found a seat in a corner. The other applicants appeared to be fresh out of college. With that kind of competition, I figured I had absolutely no chance of getting the job.
Fifteen minutes later, I returned the clipboard to the receptionist. She glanced at the forms -- I supposed to be sure I had filled them out completely -- and asked me to follow her. The way she swung her hips, I would have followed her to the North Pole. She only took me as far as the next office where she introduced me to Carl, the manager.
He looked over my application. "I see you are a carpenter," he said.
"Yes, sir," I answered.
"I don't see any sales experience."
"No, sir."
"No problem. We sell building supplies. I can teach you how to sell. Present the product, listen to and overcome objections, write up the order. Most of my salespeople don't know ash from redwood. That's the hard part, learning the products. Can you start on Monday?"
"Yes, Sir!"
The receptionist gave me a big smile when I left Carl's office. I thought it was my imagination, but she seemed to be showing me more of her abundant cleavage. She gave me a packet of new-hire forms to take home and complete over the weekend.
