Al, Miami and Me Chapter III Revolting Developments

The story so far:  The Old Saleswoman has finally gotten feedback from her 86 year old friend Al, a retired paper cup salesman, about his date with Adele, and the feedback hasn't been good.  The Old Saleswoman had planned to ask Al about an upcoming interview with Marquee Lovely Beds, the automatic bed company Al had been thinking of buying a bed from, but Al had been too depressed to talk about it.

I realized after I left Al’s place that I hadn’t asked him about the Marquee Lovely gig. But the timing hadn’t been right and he hadn’t been thinking straight. So I took a shot and scheduled a 10 am meeting with them at the Best Western in Palmetto for later in the week. 

I got to the meeting early like I usually do, and walked around the lobby and down halls peeking into conference rooms, hoping to snag a cup of coffee or doughnut from one of the trays left near the door. As I was wandering the halls, I heard a loud male voice coming from one of the rooms so I had to take a look. I saw a bunch of scared-looking guys sitting in folding chairs listening to a big hulk with shaggy hair read them the riot act. Interesting maybe, but there were no coffee or doughnuts set out, so I started to move on. Then I noticed the sign “Marquee Lovely Beds” by the door. I slipped in and took a seat in the back row in the name of research and listened.


Sunrise Banquet Room, Best Western Motel, Palmetto, Florida, 8:45 am, August 9, 1986


“Listen to me you guys… I’m here, all the way from God damn Long Island on a pain in the ass flight from JFK to tell you, in person, if you guys don’t start movin’ these beds I know some people who are dyin’ to. You know who I mean. The guys in Fort Lauderdale. That’s right. The start-ups in Fort Lauderdale. They don’t mind the drive down to Miami. They don’t whine about a Saturday night appointment!!


You think I don’t mean it? Ask the guys in Atlanta if you can track any of 'em down. I went down there and fired the whole God damn bunch. I think they’re selling pictures out of a TRUCK ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD somewhere.


You Charlie, you were around then. You remember. Stand up and tell  'em…….


 …… That’s why I don’t understand, why I just don’t understand -Charlie you can sit down now- WHY IN THIS MARKET- Miami- where the oldest, sickest people in the world go to die, the beds aren’t flying out of here! You’re getting good solid leads! SICK LEADS! I know you are, and I know how many, and I know you aren’t closin' 'em. How do I know? I’m Santa Claus. I got eyes in the back of my head like him!

 I always said we pay weekly! W -E -E –K- L -Y! Not W -E -A –K-L-Y! But I have half a mind to hold back and pay you guys every two weeks, cause it’s not worth makin’ out checks for $100 dollars or $125. Christ- how do you live on that?


Oh, suddenly I get a reaction.

THE NEXT STOP FOR YOU GUYS IS NOWHERE. This is the end of the road. You’ve done floors, cars, siding, sun-rooms, some of you old guys even did encyclopedias. Some of you even tried timeshares. But I know not one of you had the balls to keep the pressure on and do what it takes to sell a timeshare and make some real money or you wouldn’t be here! You can’t even sell a $3,000. adjustable bed in a market full of sick old rich people! You think a timeshare salesman gets porched?!


I know. I hear the stories. You didn’t make your Mr. Daniels call. Why? Cause you never got in the house to begin with! You got porched by some 85-year-old grandpa with a bad back. I tell you- you get that foot inside the door and keep it there and you don’t move till the guy lets you in, calls the cops, or shoots you!


When Sue sets your appointments she writes right on the lead card. It tells you, right in the upper right corner what’s going on. S means sick. H means husband, W…don’t tell me I have to tell you what W means or I’ll fire the whole bunch of you and call in Fort Lauderdale this minute!

 Either the husband is sick or the wife is sick and they think the bed is gonna help. One of them has pain- your acid reflux, your pinched nerve. You don’t need to know what it means! It means they’re sick and they’re ready to pop for a bed! You do the full -and I mean the full presentation, and take your drops! Slowly! It’s like a striptease, one at a time…slow….. make 'em work for 'em. Just take your time. $250 bucks at a time till you’re ready to close with your Mr. Daniels call.

And then it’s like candy from a baby. Cause they think they’re off the hook! You’re all packed up ready to go and you pull a Columbo.


‘Oh one last thing, I’m brand new and my boss My Daniels wants me to call in.’


You call into whoever is taking our Mr. Daniels calls that day, and then you ask Grandpa to give your new boss a recommendation. You put Grandpa on the phone with Mr. Daniels and you’re done! Mr. Daniels is out T.O. guy! Our Turn Over guy! Get it? When our T.O. tells Grandpa he’s gonna get a special deal to help you close your first sale, I tell you IT’S ALL OVER!


Then write the sale! Get that check! Bring it in that minute. If it’s night, we’ll do a night deposit. We want that check cashed! Then when they don’t get a bed or the bed they get's not the one they ordered they got nowhere to go! We got the money!!!!!! It’s too late! Fight me, Grandpa! You’ll be dead before it gets to court!


Now I’m givin' you guys one month to get these numbers up, and start closin’ these leads or you’re all on the street and I don’t care what your story is! All right. Talkin’ to you losers makes me thirsty. Who’s gonna buy me a drink first?”
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The guy with the shaggy hair headed for the back of the room and out the door, and I watched as all the salesmen in the room followed him around the corner and down the hall to the bar.

The thought of taking a job with these people made me want to vomit. I might be a strong salesperson, and I wasn’t afraid to close, but that stuff was in another world entirely and it depressed the hell out of me to think I had planned to interview with them. Were things that bad? Maybe a Spanish course was in order. I had to talk this over with Al.
I drove directly to his condo. The $50,000 Pyramid was on that time of day so I knew I had a good shot of catching him in.

Next to Al’s black Lincoln, which was now permanently parked unless I was taking him out, sat a maroon Monte Carlo about eight years old, in desperate need of a wash. I glanced in it and saw a  pile of Marquee Lovely brochures on the passenger seat. An unfolded map of Miami lay on the dashboard, with Al’s address scribbled in the margin. There were some fast food wrappers in the back seat.

This was definitely a salesman’s car. And I knew who the salesman worked for.

Continued in Chapter IV- "Adele!!"