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.