Gym Shoes and Sales Jobs
Written by Chris C on September 12th, 2007
Back in 2001, I tried out the business world for six months. The job I held was a sales position at a company in New Jersey that sold Irish products to stores in America. I learned two lessons there.
The first is that there are two types of Irish products: gifts Americans think Irish people want for gifts, and Irish goods and products Irish people actually want.
I don’t mean to offend anyone; my relatives are of that nationality. I am also part as well. So then it is ok to give a person from Canada a shot glass from Niagara Falls? Of course not but a lot of people would. Shamrock socks are not a great Christmas gift for someone from Ireland.
Anyways, throughout the year, we would pack up a van with our products and schlep to a sales show, usually at a big hotel. Once there, store owners from across the country would peruse our products and place orders while there.
This time we were headed to Illinois, a sixteen-hour trip. It was also the day after 9/11. That was eerie because we brought along one of those little portable televisions and watched the news the whole way there.
The surreal-ness would not end with the trip itself, but rather the time warp that is the Midwest. It is like another world out there, as if you stumbled into a real-life Pleasantville. That was lesson two.
An encounter with a person interested in our products set the tone for what I am talking about. It was a well-meaning woman who wanted a gift for someone.
Lady: “Do you have any gym shoes?”
Me: “Gym shoes?”
Lady: “Yes, gym shoes, you know for the gym, or tennis.”
Me: “Oh you mean sneakers.”
Lady: “Yes, that is what we call sneakers here, gym shoes. Or tennis shoes.”
Me: “Last time I heard sneakers called gym shoes people did the twist and went to sock hops.”
Lady: “As a matter of fact…”
Me: “I didn’t think you guys were that far back in time here.”
Lady: “We prefer to call it retro.”
Me: “Fair enough. You play a lot of classic rock here and I like it, so who am I to judge. So tell me, what do you call sneakers you don’t wear at the gym?”
Lady: “Tennis shoes.”
Me: “Are you playing tennis?”
Lady: “No. But the word sneaker does imply some form of stealth movement. Are you to infer that people who wear sneakers are bandying about like modern-day ninjas?”
Me: “Touché ma’am. What size are you looking for?”
I will never forget that trip.
(Reprinted from former blog)
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