there is someone for everyone (even Stuart)

(originally posted 8/3/2020)

Typically Stuart starts the presentation with an apology. The depths of which is determined by the difficulty he had in breaking into his client’s house the previous evening. Sometimes there is an unlocked door, other times he has to jimmy it or smash a window or two.

The next thing he does is return their shoes.

His first boss told him never to try to sell anything to anyone without walking a mile in their shoes first and he has taken that advice to heart.

The most important thing he’s learned in his various selling roles through the years is that the smaller people’s feet are, the more painful it is for them to walk. He never realized, being someone that sports a size 14, how impactful just walking from Place A to Place B can be. How different it is for different people. Sometimes he’s only walked a few hundred yards and the pain becomes almost unbearable. “How do they do it?” he often wonders to himself. It’s only because of his commitment to understanding his client better that he finishes the mile, his cries of lamentation echoing through the neighborhood. “Good luck with the meeting Stuart” his neighbors will offer when they hear him coming.

For Stuart it’s all about commitment.

Other salesmen might glance at their potential customer’s footwear as they walk into the meeting, trying to glean some insights into their psyche by the style and/or expense of what adorns their feet, but not Stuart. He always goes the extra mile… and that’s only after he’s taken the time and effort to acquire a pair of the aforementioned for himself. Sales, not to mention breaking and entering, is truly in his blood.

Such is his dedication to his craft.

Not all of his clients see it that way. In fact, none of them do…. which explains why he’s had so many different jobs. He is constantly looking for a new one and, on more than one occasion, has been asked to explain his tactics to the local authorities who were summoned by his old one.

Females in particular struggle to see the relevance of his sales approach. Not only was it disturbing to picture him lumbering down the street in their heels, but most of the time they (the shoes) were unwearable after the journey.

He’ll always remember an encounter with one particular female. Upon seeing her shoes on the table she was so flustered by the implications of his intrusion into her house (and life) that she spat out “I always imagined stalkers being interested with girls with bitter tits and hair.” What’s she’d meant to say was obviously ‘bigger’ or ‘better’ but out came ‘bitter’ nonetheless. She didn’t even realize that she said ‘bitter’. It wasn’t until Stuart pointed it out that she began to wrestle with the Freudian implications. Eventually they explored them together. Unlike so many of his previous appointments, he left feeling that he’d really connected with her.

It wasn’t until Stuart got home later that day that he realized he was experiencing a completely new feeling; tittersweetness.

It wasn’t until the next morning that he saw a pair of his shoes were missing. It was a tittersweet moment.

(Clearly Stuart is either crazy or a complete moron. Why then would I end the story with him having the hope of finding someone? Because otherwise I thought you might worry about him.)