Anyone who knows me well knows the word “salesman” leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.  I’m not a fan.

In my experience salesmen are slick-talking schmoozers who will say anything to achieve a desired reaction from another human being.  They know if they tap that hammer in just the right spot on your knee, you’re going to give a little kick.

The good ones become masters at the craft of bullshitting, and I have to wonder if anything that escapes their lips isn’t for some calculated purpose.

My father was not a salesman.  He was a man of few words, but they were direct and honest, whether you wanted to hear it or not.

My first experience with a salesman that I remember was when I worked for the used car manager at a dealership in Indiana.  Besides suggesting I should unbutton my blouse a little further, he also sold a car I had picked out off the lot in the time it took me to go home and get my checkbook.  Asshole.

Some men have salesman personalities without actually selling for a living.  They can charm naive and unsuspecting women very easily by saying and doing things straight out of a Hollywood movie.  But it’s all theatrical – just for show – and that kind of man wouldn’t know a heartfelt thought if it bit him in the ass.  Which he is.

How wonderful it is, then, when a real man with a real heart speaks real words with no intention but to communicate a thought or feeling.  A simple “Merry Christmas” can make a smarter woman melt when she finally learns to distinguish the difference between a salesman and a Prince.

Best.  Christmas.  Ever.  

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