Sales School Part 2

I waited in the hotel lobby alone. There weren’t too many people there, and none of them were college aged. Where were they? How would I recognize them? I bided the time by looking around from my secure vantage point, a chair placed against a wall of the room. The red and gold carpet was faded and the pile was beat down. Some spots were worn bare. Dark, heavy curtains hung over tall, dramatic windows of hazy glass. The ceiling was ballroom height and lit by chandeliers with a noticeable number of unlit bulbs. The air was close and musty. At one time this must have been a grand and elegant place, but now through years of neglect it seemed cheap and used.

Time went by and my thoughts went back to what had brought me here to this hotel lobby. What had brought me to accept a summer job with so many unknown aspects. There was a real scarcity of summer jobs in suburban Long Island, where home was. My chances of finding something there were nil. Last year was a complete nightmare. I was home alone with my Mom. She and Dad had divorced when I was thirteen. Mom was irretrievably embittered by the experience and took it out on the only other person in the house that summer; me.

She would scream at me that my inability to find a summer job was my fault because I didn’t want one enough. She’d say, “You spoiled, lazy, snot nosed brat! You think that money grows on trees! I work hard all day to support you ungrateful brats. Your fucking, good for nothing, bum of a father never sends child support. You’re growing up just like him. You don’t give a shit about helping me out. Get out and earn your keep!” She’d yell, “Get out there and pound that pavement!” There was always a tiny voice in me telling me that I couldn’t be all that bad at such an early age, but I took what she said to heart anyway.

I didn’t drive yet, nor did I have a car, so any job I found I had to be able to get to by bicycle. Public transportation did not exist there either. This kept jobs at all of the shopping malls out of my reach. Mom expected me to ‘pound the pavement’ for eight hours a day, every day, until I got a job. It took me weeks to find one last summer, and each day that I returned home I feared that if I hadn’t pounded the pavement long and hard enough, Mom would pound me verbally. She was not above becoming unpredictably violent either, and although this was sporadic, I feared her. I had feared her my entire childhood. She had three inches on me and at least 30 pounds. Sometimes she would chase me out of the house and not let me back in until after dark. My twin sister and brother had made their quick escapes as soon as they could. My brother attended an Ivy League School and worked summers there in the greenhouses, and my sister worked at Saratoga Race Track the first summer and Parchment the next. Taking Mom’s haranguing during high school had been enough for my brother and twin.

My first summer home, I found a job at a local hotel as a pool side cocktail waitress. I remember my interview. This big fat ugly Italian guy with sleazy written across his face was hoping I would attract customers to the hotel. “Do you look good in a bikini?” he asked with great interest.

“Yes, I look great in a bikini.” I answered reluctantly, but with ‘go get them’ career like enthusiasm. I guessed I would look okay in my blue bikini with the tiny white checks. But I certainly wasn’t any bombshell. At nineteen, I was five foot four and one hundred pounds, really petite and naturally thin as only a teenager could be. I had shoulder length dirty blond hair and green eyes and freckles. People have always told me I was ‘cute’ and had a wonderful smile.
“Would you wear thigh high white patent leather boots?” he drooled.

“Um, no. I mean, its summer, I have some nice white sandals with a heel.” I was pretty scandalized by the thought of the bikini, wearing boots was too much. Was he going to ask me to be a prostitute, or what? But it was a job, and I was desperate. He settled for the sandals, what a relief.

That job was pretty degrading, although thinking that someone would actually want to see me in a bikini raised my self esteem somewhat. All summer the hotel had very few guests. I didn’t end up serving too many drinks and feared I would be fired. A few of the people were staying at the hotel the whole summer. They were very nice, and used to order sodas from the bar, so that I would look busier. I got to know these ‘regulars’ and when they found out I had been captain of my synchronized swimming team in high school, they would pay me a buck to do a synchronized swimming trick in the hotel pool for them. It was kind of bizarre, but it was nice to cool off, and I liked it better than being a cocktail drink waitress.

At first my Mom was pleased that I had found a job. But in just a few days she was shrieking at me again. “I can’t stand the sight of you just sitting around the house after work! Just get out of my sight! You’re so lazy. That job isn’t really work. Strutting around a pool all day! You hardly make any money in tips. I can’t figure who would want to look at you anyway. It’s not like your busty or anything. Why don’t you get a real job, or a second job?” She’d lunge at me and I’d run out of the house in fear for my life. When I’d return to the house she would say she missed me when I was at school during the semester and she wanted to hug me. I was afraid to get that close to her because she might reverse moods suddenly. I tried to stay out of her way and just survive the summer last year.

I was bound and determined for that not to happen again in the summer of 1976. It was the two hundredth anniversary of our country’s independence on the fourth of July and in late August I would turn 20 years old. I would be an adult, not a teenager. INDEPENDENCE. That’s what I wanted most. Independence from my abusive, degrading, controlling mother. Independence for me. I needed to know if I could make it on my own. I considered staying in my college town for the summer, but I had heard that jobs were scarce there as well, and Mom wanted me at home, under her thumb. Both my sister and brother had already made their escape from Mom, and I was all that was left for her. I considered declaring myself financially independent from my mother, but she promised that if I left her without my dependent tax deduction, she would disown me and never send me another penny. She wasn’t kidding. Her threat truly frightened me and I didn’t think I was ready to challenge her, never having been financially independent before.

When I heard about the job with Parchment from my twin sister Evie it seemed the perfect answer. Mom would support it, because it was a job for the whole summer. Yet, I would be away from home for the entire summer and free from the threat of abuse. Better yet, it would be a true test of whether I could make it on my own. It would be a step in my search for independence. I never could get Evie to tell me much about what the job was like, though and that left me a bit suspicious about the whole enterprise.

But here I was in Nashville, now having to deal with the reality of my choice. The whole summer of 1976 was an enormous unknown to me. I had taken this job selling bible books door-to-door. I was to be trained for one week at the Hermitage Hotel in Nashville, and then sent to a Southern location for the summer. This unknown location, to be determined by others and revealed to me the night before my departure, would be my sales territory and home for the duration of the summer. I chose to view it like the Tolkien’s Trilogy. Frodo made a perilous journey of there and back again to fight Sauron’s evil forces and destroy the one ring. No evil forces were in sight for me, I’d just be selling books, but it was a journey that would take me to who knows where and back again. I would try to face the unknown, and my fears on a day-by-day basis.

So, there I was waiting to meet my fellow sales people, who had already checked in but were out and about. Most of them were from the mid-West. I waited for what seemed like an eternity (I hate to wait) but was at least an hour. Finally four college-aged people came into the lobby. I watched them from my safe perch, feeling suddenly shy and not daring to rush up to them immediately. A young man in an untucked orange tee shirt and jeans was the standout in the crowd. He had tanned and solidly built guy with striking farm boy cuteness and a sun burnt nose. His short hair was darkest brown, his eyes were piercing blue, and he sported a small moustache. He was at least six feet tall and well muscled. I pictured that he got that way hauling bales of hay, or some other rigorous farm work. I don’t think I had seen any guys as handsome as him in my whole college.

My urge to join the group won over my shyness, and I walked up to the young man and introduced myself. “Hi! I’m Sue Fairview. You wouldn’t happen to be from Parchment, would you?”

He looked me over from head to toe in a manner both rude and flirtatious and said, “Yes, nice to meet you. I’m Chip, and this is Mary, this is my brother Davie, and this is Gregg. We are all from Missouri.” He smiled broadly, quite pleased with himself, it seemed.

I never would have guessed that Davie was Chip’s brother, he was so unlike him. He was shorter and less sturdy looking than Chip, to begin with, had buttery blonde curly hair, but he had same blue eyes. He had an angelic face, and I knew he was a nice guy, just by the sight of him.

Gregg’s most noticeable feature was his height. He was six feet four inches or so I would have guessed. He was also quite handsome. He had very short brown hair, almost a crew cut, but the long bone structure of his face, especially his strong chiseled jaw, was beautiful in a very masculine way and he carried off the look quite well. Let’s face it, he was a hunk too.

Mary was taller than me, maybe five foot six inches. She was sinewy and her bone structure was sturdy. She had wide and strong looking hands. She looked like she could lift those bales of hay right beside Chip. She had pale blonde hair and pale blue eyes set far apart on a wide but pretty face with high cheekbones. She had a small mouth with thin beige lips and a straight nose. She had a very square jaw though, that seemed out of place on her face and gave her a somewhat hard look.

“Um, I’m from Long Island, New York. Glad to meet you.”

Chip continued to speak on behalf of the group. “I’ll be your sales manager this summer. I am also managing Davie and Mary this summer. You and Mary will be roommates and share territory for the summer.” Mary and I searched each others’ faces for answers to all of those unasked questions between us. I could tell that both of us wanted to get to know each other quickly, since we would be spending the whole summer together.

I felt relieved to make contact with my colleagues. They all seemed so nice so far. We all went upstairs so that Chip could introduce me to his boss, the sales director. He explained that sales directors oversaw sales for a region of the country. Robbie, our sales director, had twenty or so managers reporting to him, and would be in charge of sales school this week. More weeks of training would take place after ours as colleges let out for the summer, and the total number of sales people in the U.S. would be up around a thousand or so.

We caught up to Robbie’s group in the hallway, which was suddenly crowded with Parchmenters. “Sue, this is Robbie, our sales director.” said Chip. Robbie looked up from the crowd of Parchmenters obviously trying to score points with him. He looked older than the rest of us, maybe thirty. But somehow he looked boyishly immature at the same time. His shock of thick black hair fell over his white small featured face. His eyes were dark brown and I saw nothing discernable when I looked into them. He kept a poker face while he sized me up. Robbie shook my hand firmly with his soft hand and said in a flirtatious manner, “Hi, so nice to meet you.” He squinted his eyes at me and continued. “You do look a lot like your twin sister Evie. But, I think she’s cuter than Evie, don’t you Gregg?” Robbie moved around as if to see me from all angles, or check out my ass.

“Yeah.”, replied Gregg as he also looked at my face in an analytical, but not disinterested way. They went on about details of this comparison and I felt uncomfortable being the center of attention at all, but somehow flattered at the same time. It’s disconcerting to meet strangers that know your twin, and so recognize you instantly and know something about you already. I smiled and pressed my back against the hallway wall for support. Maybe they thought I was cuter because my hair was longer than Evie’s, and of course, she had a boyfriend already.

Robbie gave us stapled copies of the week’s agenda, and Mary and I went to our room to look them over and get acquainted. “Well, I guess I’ll start by telling you about myself.” Mary said. I’m majoring nursing in college and I’m from Kansas City and I belong to the Church of Latter Day Saints.” She had an open and friendly manner. “It’s your turn.”

It was the typical introduction given between college roomies. “I go to school at the State University of New York at Cayuga and my major is biology. I was raised as a Roman Catholic, but I don’t go to church anymore.” I was reluctant to tell her that I was an atheist. I thought that since she was religious, it might come between us. “I am from Long Island, New York.”

“Wow you’re the first New Yorker I’ve ever met. So you live in the city?”

“Not really, I was raised in the suburbs. Where my school is there are mostly dairy farms and apple orchards. It’s about three hundred miles from New York City.”

“Oh, I didn’t know there were rural areas like that in New York.” She changed the subject. “I guess we have to share the bed tonight.” She didn’t really seem as put out as I did about it.

“Yeah, I called for a rollaway and there weren’t any available.” We smiled at each other. We both found ourselves in the same predicament. Future largely unknown, thrown together in a small hotel room, expected to be ready to sell books door-to-door at God knows where in just a week; we bonded quickly out of necessity.

We reviewed the week’s agenda together. “Gosh, events were scheduled every day starting at 7:00 AM and they don’t end until around midnight!” I said. “So much for sight seeing in Nashville.”

“Yeah, Chip told me we would be too busy for that. But we all go out as a group to meals together; Chip, Gregg and Davie and us, and that will be fun. Of course you will come with us.” It did sound like fun, and she seemed so excited to include me that I couldn’t wait until dinner time. Finally I was with other people and felt like I belonged.

Sales School Part 3

Eventually there was a knock on the door and it was the guys, Chip, Davie and Gregg, letting us know it was time for dinner. We all took the elevator to the lobby as one happy little group. Everyone was so energetic and upbeat. The five of us exited the hotel and struck out walking for the Shoney’s Big Boy about five blocks away. Like many groups walking together, we walked down the sidewalk in twos. I was next to Mary, and we chatted away happily about college life. Chip walked up beside us as if he wanted to talk to me. Mary moved in front with Davie. Gregg was ahead of us.

“How was your trip down to Nashville?” he asked looking into my eyes and smiling.

“The flight was okay, but the bus from the Hermitage wasn’t there and I had to pay for a cab.”

“That’s too bad. I hope it didn’t cost too much. At least you’re here with us now, and I’m glad that you came.” He put his arm around my waist in a friendly way. I returned the gesture, giving him a little pat on the side. It felt so supportive to have his arm around me, but I expected that he would withdraw it after a brief time. He didn’t. So we walked all the way to Shoney’s arm-in-arm. I wondered if he was flirting with me and the thought of it excited me because he was so damned handsome.

When we got to Shoney’s, Chip removed his arm from my waist before any of our group could look back to see. It just kind of left me wondering what that was all about. Chip sat next to me at dinner. We all had greasy hamburgers with fries and coleslaw. Chip and Gregg joked how they ate all of their meals at this Shoney’s last year because it was cheap, and it was the only place that served breakfast at six o’clock in the morning. We agreed to meet there the next morning, eat breakfast and return to the Hermitage in time for the seven o’clock meeting. We finished dinner and walked back to the Hermitage. Again I walked next to Mary. The men walked behind us, laughing and joking. Mary and I were still getting to know each other, and we didn’t pay particular attention to the guys’ conversation.

Mary and I went to room 515 together. According to the schedule, this would be our last opportunity to get a good night’s sleep. Also, we had to be up by at least five-thirty in the morning to meet the guys at Shoney’s. We put on our night gowns and lay down on the bed. She had already chosen the left side, which was alright with me. It was too hot in the room to have anything but the sheet over us. The busyness of the day was over and I started to think. I guess she did too.

“Sue, where do you think we’ll end up for the summer?”

“I don’t know. The furthest south I’ve ever been is the most northern part of South Carolina.”

“I’ve never been south before either. I mean except for this trip to Nashville. What was it like in South Carolina?”

“I don’t really remember. I was only thirteen and my family went to see a total eclipse of the sun.”

“Really, I’ve never seen that.”

“What I remember most was that it got twilight dark during mid day, the birds stopped singing and the passing cars put their headlights on.”

“I’m a little bit scared.” she suddenly admitted.

“Me too. But at least we’ll be together, and that we know for sure.”

She reached her hand out to me and we clasped our hands for a few minutes. It was very comforting to have her there close to me with all of the uncertainty ahead of us. I felt almost ashamed for asking for a rollaway bed and then telling her I did. I don’t think that she had asked for one.

The entire group, about 150 people met together Monday morning at 7:00 AM for the start of training. We all sat in the hotel conference room on folding chairs with our identical light tan sales cases at our feet. I sat next to Mary. The twenty or so sales managers were all seated in the front row. First we were welcomed while ‘Me and Mrs. Jones (we’ve got a thing goin’ on)’, an old song by Billy Gregg, was played over the loud speaker system. We then listened to a motivational talk. The person who gave the talk was upbeat verging on manic.

Some group sloganeering took place after that. A slogan would be cheered by Robbie and the managers, and the audience was asked to repeat it. We never repeated it loud enough for Robbie, though, and so the repetitions went on until I for one, was hoarse. It reminded me of the Marines, when recruits have to say, “Yes sir!” to the commanding officer as loudly as possible.

Next, the key factor in selling books, the approach, was demonstrated. On the risers at the front of the room, a working screen and storm door was set up. It was supposed to be Mrs. Jones’ front door. Robbie stood behind the door and played the role of Mrs. Jones, the potential customer. One at a time, sales managers had to go up onto the stage, knock on that door, give the approach and role play with Robbie. The first manager who went up would demonstrate the perfect approach. I strained to see and listened carefully. He knocked on the door three times and then retreated a few paces from the door. Robbie stopped the action and explained how essential this move away from the door was. We did not want Mrs. Jones to feel threatened when she opened her door. We wanted her to be drawn to us, to lean on the door, grasping the handle, straining to hear our every word. The demonstration continued. The manager said, “Hi there, Mrs. Jones! My name is Mark Treland and I’ve been calling on all of the church folks in the neighborhood. Just wanted to come by and see you. You all do go to some local church, don’t you? May I come in?” He made a slight gesture with his hand towards the door as if to precipitate it being opened. His delivery was slow, and deliberate. He used a southern drawl and his eyes twinkled in a friendly and sweet manner. His face looked sincere and focused as if Mrs. Jones was the only human being on earth that he had any interest in. He was absolutely mesmerizing and I was twenty feet away. Robbie gave the desired response. He, as Mrs. Jones, unquestioningly opened the door.

“Wow, could I do that?” I wondered to myself. The skits continued. The next manager came up to the door in a cocky manner and knocked. I guess he was really nervous and forgot to back away from the door. Robbie yelled from the other side, “Get away from my door or I’ll shoot!” Everyone laughed at the manager that had erred.

“Let me try again…” he pleaded, knocking on the door again and backing off.

“Next!” yelled Robbie curtly from behind the door. The audience laughed again. Every manager had to go up alone and face that door with Robbie behind it. None of them were allowed to succeed, and all of them were mocked for their failure. Robbie slammed the door in their faces, and screamed at them. At first the managers were confident, but as each one was mocked, the next was progressively more nervous when facing the door. Robbie explained that we should not be intimidated or personally offended by a door slammed in our faces. We should expect it. Every slammed door brought us closer to an open one, and a sale. Each ‘no’, brought one closer to a ‘yes’.

I heard what he was saying, but found myself deathly afraid that I would be called upon to go to the front of the room to give my approach, and be mocked, even though I knew in advance that only the managers would be called. It was clear to me however, that we were all vulnerable to public shaming, as was seen fit by Robbie at any time. I sure as hell was going to try to stay on his good side, and I guessed that that was the point of the opening demonstration too.

I was really glad when the group teaching part was over and we broke into little groups to practice the approach. We broke into work groups of four or five people plus a sales manager to role play the approach and later give the completely memorized book demonstrations to each other. I hadn’t completely memorized all of the book demonstrations yet. I knew the one for the Bible Dictionary and Family Bible Library, but was shaky on the Health book and educational set. The practice role playing was a good opportunity to learn the demonstrations once and for all, and there certainly was motivation to do so. To my relief, I was not the only one who didn’t know them all by heart. Mary knew them better than me, but she needed work on the Health book demonstration too.

We were taught to learn a southern drawl as soon as possible. The sales managers took turns coaching us using their past experiences. At any time, one could be called on to give a demonstration publicly or to Robbie entirely from memory. I feared this. It would be like a college oral exam in front of all of ones’ peers, no stress there. Right. All of the subsequent group events were high pressured. Sales managers who role played demonstrations in front of the entire audience were chided and debased for failure to sell books to the always difficult ‘Mrs. Jones’. Group repetition of Parchment slogans continued daily. We practiced saying, “You cute little bugger, don’t you ever die!” to ourselves. Chip’s group, including me, went to breakfast, lunch and dinner together. No free time was scheduled, and typically to complete all assigned work, we stayed up until 1:00 or 2:00 AM each day. Needless to say, we only got about 4 hours of sleep each night.

I remember telephoning my mother one night. I told her that I felt that Parchment was trying to brainwash us. I was surprised when she replied, “Well honey, you can always come home.” Enough said, I was determined to stay. I couldn’t stand the thought of giving up and going home in the first week, or ever. I’d never hear the end of it about my failure from Mom, and more was at stake here. I had to earn my independence; no one said it would be easy. Right then and there, I made a pact with myself that I would do what ever I needed to keep the job with Parchment and survive the summer. I didn’t need to be brainwashed to learn to judge for myself how best to succeed selling books. So some or most people might be brainwashed, but not me. I could remain intact, thinking for myself.

That night I asked Mary, “Did you know that the tactics that the company is using are the same kind used for brainwashing groups of people? Do you think that the company is trying to brainwash us?”

She replied in a somewhat frightening monotone, “I am sure that everything the company is doing is in my best interest...” I felt kind of like the body snatchers had gotten her.

During the whole week, Chip continued to be flirtatious with me. A day after the walk arm-in-arm to Shoney’s he asked me, “Did you like that? Did you like my arm around you?” This was followed by a longing look.

“Yes.”, I said and I returned his look. He reached out and squeezed my hand and smiled. He leaned forward and gave me a little kiss on the lips. His lips were warm and wet. My heart pounded with excitement and I hoped he couldn’t hear it. He looked around as if to make sure no one had seen us, then we parted to attend our next meetings.

Later that night he took me aside in a hallway and asked if I liked him, and if I wanted to tour the hotel with him. I wasn’t exactly sure what he had in mind, but said, “Yes.” I was so attracted to him that I didn’t really feel in control. We held hands as we walked down the stairs to the basement of the hotel. There we found a deserted storage room filled with discarded mattresses and broken furniture. We sat down on a pile of mattresses and started kissing seriously. His hands roamed over my body and I held onto his strong shoulders.

Suddenly Chip whispered, “Don’t you think God would like to see us as he made us?”

At first I didn’t understand what he meant, so I said, “Excuse me?”

“Like God made us, when we were born.” he repeated seductively.

It was as if someone had thrown ice water on me. What did God or religion have to do with what he apparently wanted? Twisted! I was put off by his abruptness, too. I didn’t really go with him exploring the hotel with it in mind that we would have sex. Apparently he did. A relationship or even a date would have been nice. I decided that the whole venture with Chip was a terrible mistake. He thought that this disgusting line would make me strip for him? It was so insulting. I also wondered what other women bought the line. I sat up and said, “That line works for you?”

“Um, what’s the matter? I’m sorry; we can just hold each other if you like.”

“I’m really tired Chip and I’d like to go back to my room.” I didn’t voice my disgust with his tactics, however, because he was after all my sales manager. He did not seem offended, nor did he pressure me. He gallantly walked me to my room, to make sure I was okay. When I got there I didn’t tell Mary what had happened because she had been friends with Chip for a long time and I had no idea what their relationship was.

During the week we also learned all the details we needed to know to sell books. We learned how to scout the territory, read mailboxes and memorize names, and make connections through local churches to the residents. We learned how to manipulate the customer by getting that first ‘yes’ that gained entry to their home. From the time they opened the door to when the books were delivered at the end of the summer, and final balance collected we would control their every response. We learned how to pressure and intimidate the customer into making a purchase and handing over the deposit, even if they really didn’t want to. We would begin to fill the sales slip out before any sale was agreed to. Delivery was a deliberate exercise in control. We were supposed to rush in the door, and begin unwrapping the books all over the floor with great excitement hopefully attracting any children in the house. Mrs. Jones would be too ashamed not to accept the delivery and pay us the balance after that. Every aspect of day to day selling and survival was covered. We learned how to ask Mrs. Jones to feed us for free so that she would be shamed into it by saying, “I’d give you a quarter, Mrs. Jones for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” was the recommended line. There was even a separate lecture for women sales people on how to not become a victim and how to spot and handle troublesome men. That lecture did not do much to allay my fears that being out and about all summer could make me vulnerable to God knows what.

The schedule for every sales week of the summer would be the same. On Sundays, all money collected from the previous week was to be ‘remitted’ to the company with the week’s sales statement. The ‘remitted’ money would be held in an account for each sales person. The sales statement included expenses, number of hours worked each day; number of demonstrations delivered each day, daily and total sales, and all deposits. Attendance at Sunday sales meetings was required. Failure to miss two meetings in a row was grounds for termination. On Monday morning one was not to eat until one had sold a book to get the money for breakfast (hopefully). Working hours were from 8:00 AM to 9:00 PM Monday through Saturday. The goal was for us to work at least 80 hours per week. We were supposed to sell books every week of the summer, leaving one or two weeks at the end of the summer to deliver the books we sold. Our last day of the summer was to be spent being debriefed back at headquarters in Nashville. This was also when accounts would be settled and we would be paid what was earned all summer.

The goal was to sell enough books during the summer to make money to live on, and have money left over to bring back to school. To do this we needed to knock on enough doors, and get into enough houses so that we could give 15 full demonstrations every day. Parchment had it all worked out that this formula would result in the basic number of book sales to meet the goal. To be able to make all of these demonstrations in one day we had to spend no more than 20 minutes in each house. “Pretend your sales case is a time bomb you are sitting on ready to go off in 20 minutes if you don’t get out.”, said Robbie. “Every ‘no’ leads to a ‘yes’. Every slammed door brings one closer to the sale. Work the territory like a spider spinning a web, be methodical and don’t skip houses. All territory is good territory, there is no such thing as bad territory.”

Some of the ‘trainees’ suffered under the stress of the week. I remember one young man sat on his sales case in a corner of the hallway trembling and repeating the demonstrations over and over to him self. Each time he made a mistake he would chastise himself out loud. He and a few others ended up dropping out during sales training week because the stress was more than they could bear. Gossip about these ‘failures’ was abundant. Mostly these people were ridiculed because they couldn’t cut it. We were better than they because we stayed on.

Any complaint about the training or schedule was not well received. As a matter of fact, any show of doubt, dissent or even weakness was rewarded with a private, or worse yet, public browbeating by Robbie or a sales manager. I tried my best to stay in line and comply with any directives. We were also taught that under no circumstances were we to share our weaknesses or pain with any colleagues and especially not with our roommates, as it was bad for morale and might spoil their sales too.

One afternoon we visited Parchment headquarters in an industrial park outside of Nashville. The halls were lined with photos of successful sales people going back for years. I think that they went back to the 1930's. The black and white photos from that time were all of white men with crew cuts and many with horn rimmed glasses. Further down the hall, the pictures were in color and I saw an occasional woman or black who was a star sales person. Minorities and women were very rare, and I wondered why.

Financial aspects were more rumored than covered out right that day. The scuttlebutt was that a good summer for first year sales people was $3,000 to $5,000 net earnings. Success in the second year meant net earnings of $7,000 to $8,000 per summer, although earnings of $15,000 and up were not uncommon, and sales of $20,000-30,000 were rumored for people who sold three or more summers. Of course, in the second summer one could be a sales manager and get a cut of sales peoples’ earnings from the company’s share. In other words, Chip was going to get a cut of Mary’s, Davie’s and my sales this summer.

There wasn’t really enough room for us to practice our demos inside the building and it was really noisy in the halls with all of the sales people repeating demonstrations to each other. Chip suggested that I go outside on the lawn with him to practice. At first I was a little suspicious of his invitation, but when I got outside, Mary and Davie were already out there. It was much more peaceful outside in the sunshine. Mary and I quietly practiced with each other, taking turns being the sales person, or Mrs. Jones. Mary was a kind study partner. What we were doing was not unlike cramming for finals at college. Chip took turns practicing with us and giving us the benefit of his experience. What I remember most about that afternoon was the killdeer swooping around the building in the bright sunshine calling, “kill-dee, kill-dee, kill-dee…!”

Excitement started to build toward Friday night, when territories were going to be announced. There was whooping and laughing in the halls when people found out their location assignments. Some quietly voiced disappointment with a particular locale or selection of roommates. I was glad that since Mary and I were the only women in sales school this week we already knew we would be roommates. Parchment would never have men and women room together. Finally, Mary and I learned that we were assigned to Athens, Georgia, a small college town not far from Atlanta that was also home to the University of Georgia. We had the whole town and surrounding Clark County to ourselves, and would, of course, be roommates. Neither of us had ever been that far south before. The area was unknown to us, but at least we knew where we were going.

A ride had been arranged for us with other sales people whose territory was adjacent to ours in Oconee County (south of Clark) and we were to leave from Nashville early Saturday morning.

Training with Chip

Chip took me out for training in my territory on Friday of my first week out on the ‘bookfield’. In the morning, he picked me up in his white Mustang convertible and we drove out into the country to a place that he didn’t think I would be able to reach without a car during that summer. We stopped at a small but well kept white ranch house situated in the middle of a grassy field. The black folks inside were receptive to Chip’s approach and let us in. Pictures of John F. Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy, and Martin Luther King hung on the paneled living room walls along side of posed family portraits. The furniture was of dark, heavy wood, and the coffee table had the family’s leather bound family bible front and center. The carpet was shag. The whole family gathered in the living room to listen to Chip. The children looked wide eyed and nodded enthusiastically as Chip asked them, “Don’t you wish that bible study could be as exciting as the fourth of July?” He sold a family bible library set in no time flat using no more than the Parchment script exactly as written. The whole visit took 10 to 15 minutes.

Down the road some we visited a pale yellow trailer that was up on cinder blocks. Our knock was answered by a young woman. She was of normal build with dyed blond hair, blue eyes and an ordinary face. Her red nail polish was chipped, as was one of her front teeth. She wore a tube top and shorts. Chip’s eyes flashed, and he winked at her as he rattled through his approach. She stepped out of the trailer to see us, and Chip made a remark about how cute girls in Georgia were. She came over to the car to see what books Chip had in the trunk. Using the line, “they make great Christmas gifts too!” Chip sold her two sets of family bible libraries. She asked if Chip could drop by later some time so that a sister of hers could meet him and see the books too. Chip smiled broadly, of course he could.

Back in the mustang, we drove off further out of the populated area. The paved part of the road ended, and it became a dusty dirt lane. It was getting pretty hot out and the sun was high. I was about to say that I didn’t think there would be any more houses this way when the car started to make a noise. It sounded like something was dragging underneath, but Chip kind of smiled as he pulled over onto a grassy area under a tree. He got out of the car and peered under it.

“The muffler is dragging. The clip must have broken when we got onto the dirt road. It needs to cool off a little before I fool with it.”, he said. He got back into the front seat beside me. “That last house was an interesting example of what can happen out here on the bookfield.” he said in a lecturing tone. “Like that girl. She was attractive, tempting. I must admit that I haven’t always resisted temptation. The women are home alone, and can be so desirable. But I regret that I have succumbed because it took away time from selling books. You need to focus on the job. Just imagine you may be selling a book to a guy who is so gorgeous that you’ll cream your pants just looking at him.” He leaned closer and made eye contact. “Do you think you could resist?” He leaned forward and kissed my mouth as his hands began to move towards me. I was still physically attracted to Chip, but that was all.

“Yes, I could resist.” I replied, backing away from the kiss. But his advance did not stop, so I picked up my sales case and got out of the car. Furious at this tactic of his, I began to walk back towards civilization and I didn’t look back. I walked a few hundred yards before he caught up to me on foot.

“I was just testing, really. It’s part of the training. You did well.” He smiled and held his hands out in a conciliatory manner as he urged me back to the car. I hadn’t been pissed off enough that I was fully prepared to hitchhike all the way back to town. But his hands out made me relax, even though I really never believed it was part of the training. We started walking back to the car.

“Oh”, I said after thinking for a bit, “is that how you are going to train Mary as well?”

“What would you say if I told you that I already had? Would you be jealous?” He winked at me.

I just shook my head and stood under the shade of the tree while Chip searched in the trunk for a wire coat hanger. Finding one, he crawled under the car and lay down on his back in the dust as he rigged the muffler so it wouldn’t drag. When he was finished he stood and I could see that his face and body glistened with sweat, and the back of his white short sleeve shirt was stained with the reddish dirt Georgia is known for.

“Well, that’s enough training for today. I’ll drop you off in your territory closer to town. I need to go home and change my shirt.” We hopped back in the Mustang and drove on in silence.

Lake Lanier Part 1

The company wanted to provide us with a place to swim on Sunday so they planned a sales meeting at a place up near Lake Lanier. Before the meeting, Chip’s brother Davie picked me up on his motorcycle and took me to see Stone Mountain. Davie looked like this.

It was my first time on a motorcycle. So, I donned my helmet, hopped aboard, grabbed Davie around the waist and off we went down the highway. We had enough time to head for Stone Mountain to see hang gliders soar. We didn’t approach the side of Stone Mountain with the carving on it; we went up the other heavily wooded side to watch them take off. It was a pretty bumpy ride up that rutted dirt road, but that’s what made it fun. Four wheel drive vehicles had made it up with the hang gliders before us. I had never seen hang gliding before. It was strange to see these guys take a good run with all of their equipment flapping and jangling and jump off the top of a mountain only to soar quietly away. Somehow it was captivating. Davie looked at his watch and said it was time to go to the meeting.

We hopped back on the bike, and sped away for the meeting nearby. It seemed to me that we must be going pretty fast, as I could hardly hold my helmeted head out from behind the windbreak of Davie’s head. Davie got my attention and motioned that I should look at the speedometer. We were going 80 miles per hour! It was a real rush on the bike going that fast and I hung on for dear life.

We got to the hotel, and the lobby was full of Parchmenters waiting. There was only one big, square shaped easy chair left. Davie and I squeezed into it together and laughed when we realized both our asses fit in that chair together. We were sitting like that still giggling when Chip arrived. “Hey Davie, what are you doing? Are you moving in on my girl?”

“Your girl, I’m not your girl.” I told Chip. But he pulled me out of the chair by my arm and Davie slunk away, not wishing to even jokingly challenge Chip. Chip let go of me and we went into the meeting. It was a typical meeting. More testimonials, more motivational slogans; you get the picture. After the meeting we all went to Lake Lanier.

Lake Lanier Part 2

The beach at Lake Lanier was beautiful and it was a clear day. Where we were, there were no boats and the beach was sandy. The other Parchmenters started into the water splashing, dunking, and playing chicken (where one carried another on one’s shoulders and two of these ‘chickens’ would try to push each other off). I couldn’t deal with it after my previous dunking experience. There was an island about a quarter of a mile swim across from the beach, and I decided to swim there. I felt very strong after all of the biking, and the swim would be a great confidence booster. I was wearing a nylon bikini that was brown with small orange paisley patterns. I swam there, by myself, and it felt wonderful. No one seemed a strong enough swimmer to bother me at the island.

But then I noticed that someone else was swimming out towards the island. When he was within 50 yards, I could see it was Chip. Damn. I stood waist deep in the water and waited. He came up, breathless, stopped within a few feet of me and told me that he would not hurt me. He had seen my dunking the previous week and did not want me to be alarmed. He asked me to come to the deeper water and held out his hand. I gave him my hand, and under the water he held my hand against his crotch. He had an erection. He said, “This is all for you.” He caressed me and his body was warm in the cool water.

I was disgusted, broke free from him and swam quickly back toward the island. I felt too vulnerable in the water. When I reached the beach I ran into a small grove of scrubby trees. My feet sank into thick mud. He caught up to me and pushed me down onto my back onto the mud. I raised my hands and feet into the air in defense. He loomed over me on his knees and pulled down his swim trunks. Water from his head of dark hair dripped on my body. He grabbed his still erect cock and pointed it down at my crotch, saying, “Do you think that this will fit in there?”, as he pulled the crotch of my bikini bottoms to the side exposing me. He leered at me and his cock was huge.

“No!” I yelled, thinking to myself that there was no way that would fit inside me anyhow. With my hands and feet I pushed him backwards and off of me. He was taken off guard and fell backwards suddenly into the scrub trees, and I got away. Shit, would he have raped me if I couldn’t fight him off? Without hesitation I ran back to the water, dove in and swam as fast as I could toward the beach. But, I hadn’t gotten far when I heard Chip calling with a plaintive note in his voice. I raised my head from the water and saw him some yards behind me. He had tried to catch me and now seemed to be in trouble. I swam close enough to hear him say, “I’ve pulled a leg muscle swimming so fast and I don’t think I can make it back. Please come help me.”

I didn’t believe him at first, but somehow he convinced me. When I did swim up, he grabbed onto me just to stay afloat. We agreed that he would float on his back, kicking if he could and I would drag him back to the beach with one of my arms while I did a one armed sidestroke. In this manner we made it back slowly. It was quite a workout for me. As soon as we got there, Chip acted humiliated and angry and went off by himself.

Gregg came up at that time. “Where were you two all that time? We saw you swim out there together, and lost sight of you on the island for a little while.” he said jealously.

“Gregg, nothing happened.” I replied curtly.

“Good.”, he said, smiling.

That was when I began to suspect that I was the prize in a little contest that Chip and Gregg were having.

Chip's Apartment

After one sales meeting, Mary and I were to go to the apartment that Chip, Bill, and other Parchmenters were renting, before going back to Athens. Don’t ask me why. Mary and I never had any say in these matters and we were totally dependent on others for transportation since neither of us drove. When it came time to leave for the apartment, I was to ride in Chip’s car, and Mary was to go in another car with Bill. I wanted to stay with Mary, but that car was conveniently full.

Chip and I drove off in his white Mustang. We made it back to the modern apartment complex before anyone else. All of the buildings had gray clapboard wood exteriors where the siding slants down at an angle. We parked and went inside. The inside was modern, carpeted and empty of furniture. I was pretty sure that every one would be arriving shortly as they had left right behind us. I still had my wet bathing suit on under my shorts and wanted to put my dry undies on. Chip told me I could change upstairs. I went up the carpeted stairs. The whole place had wall to wall white deep pile carpeting, and everything was new looking. When I reached the bedroom I was surprised because there were no beds. The guys were just camped out on the floor. Some had sleeping bags, but others just had a pillow and blanket to lie on. I tarried, looking at the sleeping arrangements. Mary and I had it far better than this. It looked like six guys were staying here.

Just then Chip came upstairs, “You’re not undressed yet?” he said, sounding somewhat disappointed. He was wearing only his white brief underwear. “I thought you and I would have a little time together alone before everyone else gets here.”

With that he was all over me. He pushed me onto the sheet that, I guess, he slept on, and held me down. I fought to get back up but there was no way; he was so strong. After the last time on the island, he was more prepared for the struggle. I didn’t think anyone would hear or come if I screamed, so I just kept repeating loudly, “No! Chip, no!”

He was unstoppable and determined. I feared that he would succeed in raping me this time. I wasn’t sure that I had it in me to punch him, or even if I could. He started to try to get my shorts off. He unsnapped the top and yanked the zipper down. He put his fingers into the waistband and pulled. Those wet, tight, white denim shorts would not budge. He pulled harder. The shorts would not budge. Suddenly it dawned on me; those shorts would not come off without my cooperation, or so I hoped. They were tight enough that it took some doing for me to get them on and off even when they were dry. I spread my legs to assure that they would not come down. This move however, seemed to urge Chip on. I became fairly comfortable that I was not going to have forced sex. I told Chip to give up. But he continued to try. Eventually his fingers in my waistband began to tickle, and though I tried to suppress it, I giggled and squirmed. My continued, “Nos!” could not have seemed very convincing then.

After about a half hour of this Chip stood up and said angrily, “Okay. I believe you. You’re not interested. I’m going to take a shower.”

I lay there exhausted by the struggle. I was little bit traumatized, and thinking what to do. Chip said that he believed me. Maybe he was no longer a threat to me. The others should come along soon and then I would be safe.

Chip called to me from the shower.
Could I hand him a towel, he left it on the floor of the bed room. Big mistake, I brought it to him in the shower. I held out the towel to him, and he grabbed both of my hands so quickly that I lost my footing on the wet tiles and began to fall onto the edge of the tub. The towel fell to the floor. He grasped my arms and caught me, preventing me from hitting the tub and set me upright again. But he did not let go of me. I was so off balance that I could not try to get free. He took my arms and circled his body so that I was behind him but still outside the tub. He put my hands on his large wet erection and moved them forcefully up and down, until he ejaculated. Then he let me go. He said something like I owed him at least that. I felt nauseous as I went to the sink to rinse my hands off.

I ran out of the apartment only to see the car that Bill and Mary were in drive up. They came up the walk smiling and chatty. I went back inside with them as if nothing had happened. They had arrived a full hour after us. They claimed to have gotten lost. One of the other sales managers, Terry, leered at me and asked if we had good time waiting for them. Our arrival before the others was a set up, and all the guys knew about it. They had delayed their arrival so that Chip could try to nail me. I was shocked and stunned. Terry came up behind me, put his arms around my chest feeling me up and down with his forearms and whispered in my ear that he wanted me too.

I bolted from the apartment and ran. Tears streamed down my face. I ran to the entrance of the apartment complex. Again, I had no money, no ride, and no options. No cars were coming, so I couldn’t have hitched out of there. If I left, would Mary worry? I needed to think, but was overwhelmed with emotions, and could not. I decided to hide in a safe place until I could collect myself. I found the laundry room in the complex and it was empty. I sat in a chair in the back sobbing. The thought of telling anyone never even occurred to me. It would be my say so against Chip’s, and he was my boss, and the result would be that I would be sent home. It was out of the question.

I returned to the apartment after an hour or so, when it was already dark outside. I would probably be safe there with so many people. No one asked if I was okay, or even where I had gone. At least Terry and Chip seemed to stay clear of me. To make things worse, it had been decided in my absence that we were to stay the night and sell in Chip’s territory the next day. The night was thankfully uneventful. I slept downstairs, as far away from everyone as I could.

The next morning, I was reminded that we were not allowed to sell books wearing shorts. I had not packed anything else since I did not figure on staying over. I had to wear a pair of Chip’s jeans, cinched around my waist and with the cuffs rolled up to sell books the next day. How humiliating. I can’t think how I must have looked, rather like a railroad tramp I suppose, but it couldn’t be nearly as bad as I felt after the night before. But I survived that day too, and returning to my territory was very sweet, indeed.

Gregg

After that sales meeting, it was decided that Mary and Chris would return to our house separately from me. They would drive with Chip and I was going with Gregg. That was fine by me, as I had had enough of Chip lately.

Gregg drove me to where he was staying with his crew of five guys. Their place was in the center of a small town outside of Marietta and was the second storey of a storefront. It was really late Sunday evening and there were no lamps in the place, just overhead lights and the lights from the neon signs outside. With the overheads turned off, the place had an eerie glow from the neon lights outside. The five guys bedded down on cots in the front room facing the street, Gregg had his own room with a real bed. I was a bit concerned what the guys would think of me getting into bed with Gregg, so he offered to sleep on the floor. I figured that at some point he would join me in the bed, and I wasn’t wrong.

He got onto the bed and I welcomed him with a kiss. He caressed me with experienced hands that seemed always aware of just where they were and what they needed to do there. We began shedding our clothing and all the time I was getting more and more excited. He knew that I was not using birth control and he did not have any condoms. So, we had to be careful. Of course those issues never even came up with Chip.

He kissed my mouth and worked his way down my neck to my breasts. His hands went lower. Oh god, I was so horny. This was what I needed and wanted so badly; some gentle loving. He knew what he was doing; it was subtle and just right. He was erect but didn’t seem to care for his own pleasure, just mine. Just the way he touched and kissed my neck, ears, breasts, and between my legs, was like he could feel what he was doing as if he were doing it to himself. I tried so hard not to cry out or moan, so that his roommates would not hear, but I don’t think I succeeded. When I could I tried to stroke his erect cock to give him pleasure. What I really wanted was to take his cock head in my mouth and suck on its silky smoothness to reward him, but he gave me absolutely no chance at that. Finally he got me so worked up that I begged for him to put it in me. I said, “Gregg, fuck me! Fuck me! Put it in me!” I wanted him hard. I wanted to be pounded. He sat up quickly in Indian fashion, grabbed my waist and lowered me onto himself, so that he penetrated me three times hard and fast, and that was it. He drew out of me and came.

When our breathing quieted enough we slept. I’m not sure if the guys in the other room heard anything or not.

********

The following week, at our sales meeting, Chip cornered me and said, “So I hear you and Gregg did it. Tell me, what has he got that I haven’t?”

While I could think of many things to say that Chip would not want to hear, what I said was, “That bastard told you!” All along I had thought that he would find out; I was sort of counting on it. Though, I was sad that he did because now I would never sleep with Gregg again, as he had to be punished for betraying me. Gregg was such a good and satisfying lover. “I guess you can’t trust anyone around here.” I decided that I playing with the Parchment boys was not a good idea.

“No I guess you can’t. And you never know who your friends are either.” Then he stormed off.

********

The next week, Gregg and Bill came to visit us before the Sunday meeting. At bedtime, Gregg got into my bed and was waiting for me. I got in and when he came over to kiss me, I said, “I know that you told Chip about us.” He looked chagrinned, embarrassed, trapped by his own machinations. “Unfortunately, I cannot trust you again now. Please do not touch me. I hope it was all worth it.”

He sighed and asked, “Can I at least stay here in bed with you? I don’t want anybody to know that you dumped me.”

“There is no other place to sleep, or I would ask you to leave.”

“Thanks.” he whispered. We both slept without cuddling. That was the last time he came over to see me. What a shame. But, somehow I felt victorious over both of them. I had won the game. Hooray! Sigh.