THE REPUTATION OF A USED CAR SALESMAN

At the end of my last post I wrote of a possibility of my being an automobile sales person (selection specialist is preferred now) by the end of the week. My lovely wife even commented on it perhaps being God-sent. Well, I completed the first day of training by Tony today. I called said wife at noon and gave a positive progress report. So far, so good. Excitement ensued, I was told later. By the end of this training session, however, my perceived enthusiasm waned. Tony continued droning on on about how to prevent the customer from making any negative reaction and to sell the car today. My stomach was in a knot. My blood pressure must have been a billion over 300 million. I couldn't possibly go home and tell my life partner (just as ridiculous as "selection specialist") that I (we) just blew a good sum of cash on training materials I will probably not bring home and/or never use. The risk factor was WAY too high and my body was even rebelling because of it. That's right, I've decided to cease pursuing my dream of becoming a vehicle selection specialist. Back to hitting the pavement.

On a good note, my three-year-old granddaughter drove her new (to her) pre-owned Cadillac Escalade. It was a gift from a friend of a friend. It is a battery powered two-seater complete with FM radio and CB. I missed this while having my hopes and dreams dashed (yet again)!

MUCHO MACHO

On an afternoon walk today, using one of the usual routes, I came upon an unusual scene. Two guys from a construction crew outside a tavern renovation project at The Rusty Nail Saloon were engaged in a non-construction activity. One was shouting to the other "No, go around the other side of the trailer. Hurry! They're going to get hit by a car!"

This is obviously serious. Here, two macho guys - construction workers, working on a macho job - renovating a tavern none-the-less and the tavern is named "The Rusty Nail Saloon". Thus, mucho macho. Back to the story.

The urgency was wrangling a duck brood from crossing a busy state highway. Here this macho guy was chasing a female duck and her ducklings back onto the curb. He even bent down slowly, gingerly cupped his hand and gently and slowly lifted two stranded ducklings onto the curb and chased them as well. I called back "Now you can add duck wrangling to your resume".

Speaking of resumes, I will be taking, in my mind, a huge risk beginning tomorrow - I am going to a Ford dealership to undertake the training to become an automobile salesperson. I have NEVER sold anything before in my life. The entire process that lead me to this point had - and still has - my skeptic's radar humming overtime.

I answered an ad in the local newspaper which wanted people to show up for interviews. I gave it a shot. I met with Tony - an Italian-American stereotype from Boston - who explained that he was the trainer. It was his sole responsibility to choose a small number of people from two days of interviews to take the three-day training course and, thus, become a certified Ford salesperson and become hired at this dealership. I was his first interview. He chose me immediately. He said I had "the look". He also said "I'm gunna make you alotta money". If he said this to all those chosen, I have no idea. So, chances are, be the end of this week I will be a car salesman. Ooh boy. Wish me luck.

THE STATE BUREAUCRACY AT ITS FINEST

In order to continue receiving my well-deserved government handout, I was summoned to appear at a "reemployment seminar" at a state employment office building eighteen miles from my home. That was bad enough, but when I discovered that the seminar was to take place during the most enjoyable time of my unemployed week - that time my Tizu visits after preschool - it was irritating. Then as a topper, it was 80 degrees! There I sat in a "training" room at a government service center listening to a government hack drone on and on about how to look for jobs in Jefferson County and that it is important to have a GED.

She kept on repeating the lie that all the services that this wonderful bureaucracy provides are free. I did not have the heart to correct her, to let her know that the state has no money of its own, that it all comes from tax payers, US. I was only one of two people dressed in casual business attire. The other wasn't even the government employee - she wore jeans and Birkenstocks. I also think I was one of only three with college degrees. There were five unemployed truck drivers, which struck me (and others it was divulged) as quite odd with all the ads for same in the papers and on line.

Anyway, this entire "orientation" was to inform us of all the employment retraining services available, like the use of a telephone to call prospective employers, computers for training to use something called the "internet" and to learn how to use them to type. This agency could also teach us needed math, reading and comprehension skills.

Did the bureaucrats who chose the attendees required to be "orientated" actually look at what criteria was used? I just took a test that required knowledge of geometry, trigonometry, civil and structural engineering, along with 135 others for a construction inspection job! I guess I should have been "orientated" sooner sos I could answer the questions. Oh well, I least I still "paid" for sitting on my behind.

Oops, I almost forgot, this "orientation" counted as my required two job applications for this week. Catrina - her actual name - actually said we could breathe a sigh of relief for a week and not have to undergo the strain of job searching for the week. Oh happy days!