Shoe Column: That time I tried to be a salesman

By Tim “Shoe” Sullivan

The art of selling has never been my strong suit.

Sales was just not my bag.

It was in the first grade when I realized I did not like having to sell anything.

For a school project, we were told to sell bags of flower seeds.

But nobody told us kids how to do it.

So I walked across the street to Mrs. Jackson’s house. I knocked on her front door.

She answered the door.

I gave her my best sales pitch. I asked: “Do you wanna buy a package of flower seeds? It costs a dime.”

To my surprise, Mrs. Jackson said “Yes.”

But then what?

What was I supposed to do next?

I took her dime and bought some candy from Cigel’s, a neighborhood store.

And never sold another package of flower seeds.

When I was maybe eight years old, our school had what was called a “bazaar.”

Us kids were told there would be a big sale in the school gym. All of the students were supposed to bring something to sell.

My parents gave me some money, so I went over to Knudsen’s, a neighborhood grocery store.

I told the lady working there about my project and ordered a whole box of Snickers.

On the morning of the bazaar sale, I walked into the store to pick up my box of Snickers.

I opened the bag … and there it was, in all its glory.

A box of SNIRKLES!!

I took the box and cried all the way to school.

Snirkles was a brown and white candy slab of toffee.

Nobody had ever heard of them before.

I tried selling Snirkles for a dime each.

Nobody bought any.

Not a one.

The kid at the table next to me sold popcorn.

He sold out.

I ate a couple of my Snirkles and gave the rest away.

My profit for the day was $0.00.

The years went by, and I never sold ANYTHING.

I didn’t sell newspapers or comic books.

“Step right up! Read all about it!!” wasn’t for me.

I never sold a baseball bat, ball, baseball cards, or marbles.

When you get right down to it, I simply hated selling anything.

I never had a lemonade stand. I never even did a flop in basketball because I couldn’t sell a call.

For a short while, I would find golf balls in ponds. Sorted them out and put the ones that looked good in egg cartons.

We’re talking Spalding Plus … Top-Flite … Titleist … Golden Ram … Acushnet … Tourney … Wilson … Walker Cup … Spalding Eagle … Club Special … Pinnacle … Max Fli … Callaway, and Dunlop.

All in egg cartons.

Five bucks a carton.

Never sold one. Zip.

I never tried to sell a bridge.

I never played any game full tilt because I wouldn’t sell out.

Like I said, I hated selling anything.

There was an 1985 made-for-television show. It was playwright Arthur Miller’s 1949 stage play “Death of a Salesman.”

I refused to watch it.

I never rooted for Ohio State’s Brad Sellers when he played for the Chicago Bulls.

I wouldn’t even watch “The Pink Panther” because Peter Sellers was in it.

I couldn’t stand Soupy Sales.

Yeah.

When it came to sales, I was never sold on the idea.