“The woman was very sympathetic to that, so her tone immediately softened. ‘I can only imagine,’ she said sadly. ‘It's a terrible thing, divorce.’ Then, suddenly, she perked up and asked, ‘Well, what do you have on the truck today?’ I lifted an index finger and said, ‘Hold on, I'll be right back,’ and I ran out to the truck, grabbed one of everything, and came lumbering back with a dozen boxes. I had them stacked twelve high, towering a foot over my head.
“When I reached the front door, the woman said, ‘It's freezing outside; why don't you bring those into the foyer?’ She motioned toward a gray marble foyer that was big enough to land a plane in. ‘Uh, um, thank you,’ I said, letting out a couple of obvious grunts and groans. ‘These boxes are really heavy.’ Then, as I walked past her, I added, ‘You're right about it being freezing outside; it's absolutely brutal!’ And I dropped down to my knees and let the boxes hit the gray marble floor with an exaggerated thud.” I paused and took a moment to regard my captors.
They seemed shocked more than disgusted over the wonderful string of fibs I had told this kind old woman. What they had no idea of, though, was that the greatest fibs were yet to come. Of course, I knew I shouldn't plunge into the gory details of how I had convinced this kind old woman to buy all forty boxes of meat on the truck. This wasn't the sort of thing that my captors would respect, but I just couldn't seem to stop myself. I was getting an irrational joy by flashing back to the days when I was still a budding salesman. Besides, while I was busy talking about the past, I had no time to focus on the present, which is to say, the grim reality that had become my life. So I soldiered on, with relish.
“Well, I gotta tell you,” I said with a bit of cockiness slipping out around the edges, “there are only a handful of defining moments in a young man's life, moments where something so extraordinaryhappens that he knows things will never be the same again.” I paused for effect. “And this was one of them. I'd hustled ices on the beach before, but that wasn't really selling; it was more about working hard and having the desire to succeed. And even my little auction at dental school wasn't really salesmanship, although it was definitely one step closer.
“But when I looked up at this kind woman's smiling face, well”—I added a hint of the supernatural to my tone—”a strangefeeling washed over me, almost magical, in fact. It was as if I knew exactly what this woman needed to hear—or, better yet, exactly what I needed to say to her to convince her to buy everything.
“I opened the first box and raised my palm toward twelve beautiful filet mignons, each individually wrapped in clear plastic. ‘Black Angus filet mignons,’ I said proudly, ‘inch and a half thick. They've been flash-frozen and Cryovac-ed to near perfection; they'll last up to twelve months in your freezer, ma'am.’ I nodded proudly, shocked at how easily the bullshit was rolling off my tongue. ‘Restaurants broil these for seven minutes on each side and then serve them with béarnaise sauce.’ Then I looked her right in the eye and said with the utmost conviction, ‘They're so tender you can cut them with a plastic fork.’ Then I moved the box to the side and went on to the next one. ‘South African lobster tails,’ I declared. ‘Split them down the back, brush them with butter and garlic, and twenty minutes later you got yourself a surf and turf
“And I went on and on, spitting out a little rap about each product and then saying I had three of these on the truck or four of those on the truck. Finally, when all the boxes were open and we were literally surrounded by meat and fish, I pointed to the prices and said, ‘I'll take fifteen dollars off each box, which is my absolute cost. Believe me, you can't even getthis food in the supermarket! That's how good it is.’
“After a few moments she said, ‘Well, I'd love to help you. I mean, you seem like such a niceyoung boy. But it's only my husband and me. I wouldn't have use for so much food.’ She thought for a second then said, ‘Besides, I hardly have any room in my freezer.’ She shrugged sadly. ‘I'm very sorry.’
“I looked up at her and nodded slowly. ‘I totally understand that, but let me say this: I happen to be a professional freezer packer, and I'm willing to bet I can shuffle things around a bit, maybe even clean things up in the process. And not only will I pack your freezer for you, but I'm alsowilling to walk your dog and mop your floor and mow your front lawn and paint your house’—I raised both my palms toward her—‘not that it needs it or anything, but what I'm trying to say is that I'll do whatever it takes to sell the food today.’ I compressed my lips for effect. ‘See, if my food ends up thawing out, I might lose my job, and I can't afford for that to happen. I'm trying to put myself through college.’ Suddenly a wonderful thought came bubbling up into my brain. I bit my lower lip and said, ‘Do you have grandchildren, by any chance?’
“Well, the woman fairly beamed at the question. I think I made her day, in fact. ‘Oh, yes,’ she answered with a smile. ‘I have five of them; they're very wonderful.’ I smiled and said, ‘I'm sure they're very precious. So why not throw a great big barbecue for them? It would be a terrific excuse to get the whole family together. And then you can tell everyone about this nice young boy who came by and sold you all this wonderful food! You can even give them doggie bags to bring home.’ I raised my eyebrows and nodded eagerly. ‘In fact, I'll even deliver the food to them! Just call me back, and I'll come by with my truck.’
“She mulled it over for a few seconds, then said, ‘Okay; I have an extra freezer in the garage. You can put it in there.’
“ ‘Oh, my God,’ I declared. ‘Thank you so much, ma'am. You saved my life! What would you like? I have all sorts of prepared foods too. I have chicken Kiev, chicken cordon bleu, crab thermidor, which happens to be especially delicious,’ and it also happens to be my highest markup item, I thought.
“The woman smiled at me and said, ‘I guess I'll take everything. I mean, I wouldn't want you to lose your job, right?’”
I paused and leaned back in my seat and stared at the Bastard. “And that's how simple it was. She bought the whole fucking truck from me right on the spot!” I shrugged my shoulders. “Of course, I felt a bit guilty about having lied to the woman, but the food, well, it was top-notch, not to mention the fact that I'd single-handedly inspired her to throw a family reunion. So it was all good, right?”
“Yeah, it was all good,” snarled the Bastard.
I ignored his sarcasm. “Right, it was all good. In fact, it was sogood that my first week on the job I sold two hundred and forty boxes—which was more than twice the company record. And that was how it started. From there, a bizarre chain of events led me into the stock market and then to Stratton. Let me take them in order.”
The Bastard nodded a single time. “Please do.”
I nodded back. “It started with the Great American office. It was as if the entire sales force suddenly caught fire. Everyone's production doubled, some even tripled. It was as if I'd raised the bar or opened a new realm of possibility as to how much money could be made if you worked hard and sold the right way. Within a week, the manager came to me and asked if I'd help train the new salesmen. The manager was P. J. Cammarata. He kept saying, ‘You pumped up the office, Jordan. It's pumped beyond belief now…’ and blah, blah, blah. He kept going on about how the pump was everything.” I paused, shocked at how clear my memory of this was. “In retrospect, it was the only intelligent thing he ever said. See, the pump iscrucial; without it, a sales force withers away and dies quicker than you can imagine.”
“So you agreed to train the salesmen?” asked the Bastard.