Nock nock! Any one their? Uu ya, what do you want? Hi my name is Frank, and I’m with farmer’s coop.Stop rite there.Please wate a minute, Uu Matthew can you please come here!It had better not be one of your jokes again! I’m not going to say. O what do you want? O ya um my name is Frank and I want to see if you want to bey some of the stuff we sell?Thank you bey! SHUT!!!!! But wate! That did’int work to well. Glad you called me! I’m glad I did to!
I’m taking introversion to new hieghts. They’re always talking about the salesmen who tries to ring thrice. But I’ve given the “man” the slip so many times before that each occasion reminds me of the last. Now tell me how revealing it is to know that the challenge is something I crave, for giving the “slip” never happens the same way twice. And the “sales” attempt is just another dodge through the chessboard of “life.”
Years ago people use to sale brushes door to door. It was not uncommon to have salesmen come to your house to sale a produce. They would come in and demonstrate what they were selling. You could purchase the item then or they could deliver it later when they were by your house in a few weeks.
After an unplanned two week stay in quarantine back aboard the ship, they were finally allowed to join the colony. As each of them stepped out of the ship, the leader of the colony, who insisted everybody called him “Raoul”, would shake their hand and hug them, and then led them all on a tour of the facilities, describing all the features and functions in an excited, frantic voice, like a Shopping Channel salesman trying to sell them a time bomb before it went off.
A salesman is a person who works in a store. He sells you things you are interested in. He has to have a good personality in order to be able to sell you things you need/want.
hey mam didnt mean to bother you today just wanted to show you how well this vacc– HEY THOSE ARE MY MAN JEWELS WOMAN OH GOD OH DONT STOP WHAT A LOVELY SURPRISE
He picked me up at 8:00. I put the last touches of makeup on my face, heart beating fast. This was it. I stepped into the car, he shut the door behind me. Driving in silence, we arrived at the restaurant in 15 minutes. Or less. I can’t really remember that part. Inside he ordered us wine and expensive food. We talked a lot. He made me really happy. It’s like he was in my head, knowing everything I have ever wanted, and being all of it at once. And for eternity? It was only the first date. But at that moment, when he handed me the check, I knew he was just a salesman. The things you want most, or the things people make you believe you want most, never come without a price.
It was early sunday morning, trust me when I say this, I was not pleased to be up. There was this persistant knocking at my front door that had pulled me from the safety of my bed. When I finally make it to the front door, standing on my patio is a salesmans. He was dressed in a nice blue tailored suit with a smile even the devil couldn’t refuse. Well, before I have any caffeine I am quite a bitch honestly. I am not dealing with this right now, I think to myself. As the thought came and went, I had opened the door I slammed it back shut in this guys face. Then I headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. What an asshole.
I have met many salesman in my life. Some are kind and helpful. Others are rude and apathetic. I wish all were cheerful and eager to assist. they perform an important service.
I see you coming and I go into instant survival mode and look for an escape. Or hope you didn’t see me. Within a nano second a million scenarios cross my mind of you stalking me and trying to sell me something I don’t want or need. I need refuge and fast!
The doorbell rang at an ungodly hour during the night, and he’d only been asleep for less than an hour before the loud, buzzing sound woke him up. With a soft sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, and walked slowly to the front door, yawning while trying to flatten his hair into something presentable (which was pointless considering that a) his bedhair was always horrible and b) he’d be going back to sleep very, very soon anyway). Opening the door, he found himself face to face with a tall… tired looking man.
Looking at him with a bleary, slightly annoyed gaze, he asked, in the most polite way he could, “Is there something you need?”
(actually wrote waaaaay more, too long to put here)
A skilled sales person is usually naturally good with people, naturally good at communicating with people and confident at whatever the product may be – even if they don’t logically like the product they must be good at selling it because they are paid with commission so they must sell it to earn a living. Skilled salespeople are usually charasmatic, bubbly, informative and good people persons. Often they persuade you to purchase things you would have otherwise considered blase and unnecessary. Door to door, at the stores, online, salesmen are everywhere, bombarding us through media.
A skilled sales person is usually naturally good with people, naturally good at communicating with people and confident at whatever the product may be – even if they don’t logically like the product they must be good at selling it because they are paid with commission so they must sell it to earn a living. Skilled salespeople are usually charasmatic, bubbly, informative and good people persons.
I haven’t seen the play “Death of Salesman,” but it’s a classic and I’m an English major so I’m sure we’ll meet at some point. Don’t know why we haven’t been introduced yet. I think I may have read an excerpt from it once, but that’s kind of like hearing about someone without actually meeting and knowing them. Maybe I’ll use it in my 2015 Reading Challenge.
The saleman walked up to the front door. he knocked loudly and stood waiting for a reply. Is there anyone there he called. No one answered so he took out a cloth
A salesman works hard for his living.a salesman should ahve good communication skills.
A sales needs to have good knowledge of what he wants to sell.he should be creative while introducing his product to his customers .
He was the quiet type, go to work sell some shoes and go home. Not a life really in the normal sense. sometimes he liked to pretend he was something more than the quota of shoes he needed to sell . Yet it bagged in his mind… Was he anything more, was he truly anything and was this mundane life even real.he watched too much TV and his imagination was dictated by the media he took in…He supposed this made his life as a salesman count as something , perhaps in only the dreams he let go with every pair of shoes he sold…He found it hard that he was only ever going to be a dealer in shiny shoes and knee socks…
Once I read this play, it was about the death of a man named Willy Lowman. Arthur Miller might have been a little heavy handed in naming him, but so it goes. A man commits suicide because he believes this is the only way to provide for his — the wonder that is “self worth,” I tell ya.
Knock on the door
What a bore
Brushes to bottles whatever to sell
Makes a buck for whenever he can
Mailorder as well
Name your price cause he’s the man
“Don’t stand there like some salesman, take a seat.” Ushio made a vague wave motion at his old couch as he walked towards another doorway. From what little Yusei could see, it was the kitchen. “I don’t have anything fancy, you’ll have to settle for water.”
“Thanks.” Yusei took a seat. The couch was surprisingly comfortable. He still had no idea what the officer was planning, though.
It was the Salesman that clued me off. I mean, our neighbors, they- they aren’t exactly charitable people, that is just not who they are. Mr. Jenkins practically boots him off his property, spitten’ and yellin’ and the like. But he just let them in, plain and simple. That is why i called 911, being the paranoid 8 year old I was.
Like any good salesman, he looked her in the eyes. Propping his hands up in a descriptive manner, he gestured through space, spreading the air as his wavy movements captured her vision. In the end, all she heard was his salespitch; after this, you will be beautiful.
The salesman came back our house three times that day. I wasn’t sure if he was lost or lonely. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he had a really bad short term memory. Or maybe he was searching for something that I wasn’t sure I had. When I heard the doorbell rang again, I debated ducking under my couch with my cellphone and dialing the police. Instead, I went to the window, and ther he was, dressed in his tan suit, looking like the world was collapsing around him.
The salesman tried desperately to sell the entire crate of Bibles, but no one seemed interested in them anymore. He remembered a time when everyone wanted a good Bible with deep margins so they could take notes but now no one had need for even a hotel Bible. “Cheap,” he heard himself say.
I saw the salesman approach me with his briefcase and false promises. “Act now, and you will receive blah blah blah.” I wasn’t going to fall for it this time. Too many times have I been swindled before by cheap English Leather and a shark’s crooked smile. I had enough. This time, I was out to deceive him.
A salesman, that makes me think of Mr. Frenzy from Jennifer and Josephine, a book by Bill Peet that I just read to my daughter Claire this morning. A salesman. I think of someone who doesn’t care about the person, just the sale, numbers are the only thing that matter. In a frenzy to make the sale. To be the top sales person.
There is a salesman in my country who became rich very fast but last year it was discovered he was going banrupt because he was making up his business.
The salesman took a deep breathe and raised his hand to knock on the door. The first door. The first door of a new job in a new town with whole new people. Great. He can do this. Just breathe he reminds himself. Just breathe. And less than 20 seconds later he gets his first rejection.
A knock at the front door took me out of my trance and I stood up from my sit, quickly running to open the door. He stood there with a box in his hands and a small smile on his face. Saying my name I told him it was me and he handed the box to me. Without waiting for him to leave I opened the box and screamed, terror climbing up my throat and escaping. The eyes seemed to stare straight into my soul and piercing into my gut. My eyes widened with fear and I couldn’t hold back the vomit that rose after registering the face in the box. It took a moment for me to calm myself down but when I did I knelt next to the box can studied the head inside. It was clear who it was and as I recognized the features tears began to stream steadily down my cheeks, pure agony digging into every part of my body. I sat on the porch, sobbing uncontrollably.
You know you don’t need it,
but somehow you want it
You know you shouldn’t,
but you do.
You know you will,
but say you won’t.
You did.
The salesman won.
Nock nock! Any one their? Uu ya, what do you want? Hi my name is Frank, and I’m with farmer’s coop.Stop rite there.Please wate a minute, Uu Matthew can you please come here!It had better not be one of your jokes again! I’m not going to say. O what do you want? O ya um my name is Frank and I want to see if you want to bey some of the stuff we sell?Thank you bey! SHUT!!!!! But wate! That did’int work to well. Glad you called me! I’m glad I did to!
Slicked-back,
Break-backs,
Climbing to the top.
The King-crowned
Knows how
Slick-slinging never stops.
I’m taking introversion to new hieghts. They’re always talking about the salesmen who tries to ring thrice. But I’ve given the “man” the slip so many times before that each occasion reminds me of the last. Now tell me how revealing it is to know that the challenge is something I crave, for giving the “slip” never happens the same way twice. And the “sales” attempt is just another dodge through the chessboard of “life.”
Years ago people use to sale brushes door to door. It was not uncommon to have salesmen come to your house to sale a produce. They would come in and demonstrate what they were selling. You could purchase the item then or they could deliver it later when they were by your house in a few weeks.
After an unplanned two week stay in quarantine back aboard the ship, they were finally allowed to join the colony. As each of them stepped out of the ship, the leader of the colony, who insisted everybody called him “Raoul”, would shake their hand and hug them, and then led them all on a tour of the facilities, describing all the features and functions in an excited, frantic voice, like a Shopping Channel salesman trying to sell them a time bomb before it went off.
A salesman is a person who works in a store. He sells you things you are interested in. He has to have a good personality in order to be able to sell you things you need/want.
I glanced at the man, feeling no pity for a salesman. Yes, I disliked these big eyes which hold hope and the forced smile on their dry lips.
hey mam didnt mean to bother you today just wanted to show you how well this vacc– HEY THOSE ARE MY MAN JEWELS WOMAN OH GOD OH DONT STOP WHAT A LOVELY SURPRISE
The doorbell rang.
Naturally, I opened it to discover a guy with a huge smile on his face and a large box of educational materials held out in front of him.
“We heard you just had a child! Would you like to kickstart his educational experience?” he asked with a voice dripping with sarcastic honey.
I slammed the door.
He picked me up at 8:00. I put the last touches of makeup on my face, heart beating fast. This was it. I stepped into the car, he shut the door behind me. Driving in silence, we arrived at the restaurant in 15 minutes. Or less. I can’t really remember that part. Inside he ordered us wine and expensive food. We talked a lot. He made me really happy. It’s like he was in my head, knowing everything I have ever wanted, and being all of it at once. And for eternity? It was only the first date. But at that moment, when he handed me the check, I knew he was just a salesman. The things you want most, or the things people make you believe you want most, never come without a price.
It was early sunday morning, trust me when I say this, I was not pleased to be up. There was this persistant knocking at my front door that had pulled me from the safety of my bed. When I finally make it to the front door, standing on my patio is a salesmans. He was dressed in a nice blue tailored suit with a smile even the devil couldn’t refuse. Well, before I have any caffeine I am quite a bitch honestly. I am not dealing with this right now, I think to myself. As the thought came and went, I had opened the door I slammed it back shut in this guys face. Then I headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. What an asshole.
I have met many salesman in my life. Some are kind and helpful. Others are rude and apathetic. I wish all were cheerful and eager to assist. they perform an important service.
I see you coming and I go into instant survival mode and look for an escape. Or hope you didn’t see me. Within a nano second a million scenarios cross my mind of you stalking me and trying to sell me something I don’t want or need. I need refuge and fast!
The doorbell rang at an ungodly hour during the night, and he’d only been asleep for less than an hour before the loud, buzzing sound woke him up. With a soft sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, and walked slowly to the front door, yawning while trying to flatten his hair into something presentable (which was pointless considering that a) his bedhair was always horrible and b) he’d be going back to sleep very, very soon anyway). Opening the door, he found himself face to face with a tall… tired looking man.
Looking at him with a bleary, slightly annoyed gaze, he asked, in the most polite way he could, “Is there something you need?”
(actually wrote waaaaay more, too long to put here)
a salesman is someone who noks on my door and trys to sell me something they don’t really care about you just the deal.
A skilled sales person is usually naturally good with people, naturally good at communicating with people and confident at whatever the product may be – even if they don’t logically like the product they must be good at selling it because they are paid with commission so they must sell it to earn a living. Skilled salespeople are usually charasmatic, bubbly, informative and good people persons. Often they persuade you to purchase things you would have otherwise considered blase and unnecessary. Door to door, at the stores, online, salesmen are everywhere, bombarding us through media.
A skilled sales person is usually naturally good with people, naturally good at communicating with people and confident at whatever the product may be – even if they don’t logically like the product they must be good at selling it because they are paid with commission so they must sell it to earn a living. Skilled salespeople are usually charasmatic, bubbly, informative and good people persons.
to be a salesman is very hard. The salesman need be very Friendly. I know many salesman.
I haven’t seen the play “Death of Salesman,” but it’s a classic and I’m an English major so I’m sure we’ll meet at some point. Don’t know why we haven’t been introduced yet. I think I may have read an excerpt from it once, but that’s kind of like hearing about someone without actually meeting and knowing them. Maybe I’ll use it in my 2015 Reading Challenge.
The saleman walked up to the front door. he knocked loudly and stood waiting for a reply. Is there anyone there he called. No one answered so he took out a cloth
A salesman works hard for his living.a salesman should ahve good communication skills.
A sales needs to have good knowledge of what he wants to sell.he should be creative while introducing his product to his customers .
His death went unrecorded,
As he fell in the back,
Amongst the dusty shoes,
Boots on they say
Is the way to go
A salesman
And his last blues…
He was the quiet type, go to work sell some shoes and go home. Not a life really in the normal sense. sometimes he liked to pretend he was something more than the quota of shoes he needed to sell . Yet it bagged in his mind… Was he anything more, was he truly anything and was this mundane life even real.he watched too much TV and his imagination was dictated by the media he took in…He supposed this made his life as a salesman count as something , perhaps in only the dreams he let go with every pair of shoes he sold…He found it hard that he was only ever going to be a dealer in shiny shoes and knee socks…
Once I read this play, it was about the death of a man named Willy Lowman. Arthur Miller might have been a little heavy handed in naming him, but so it goes. A man commits suicide because he believes this is the only way to provide for his — the wonder that is “self worth,” I tell ya.
You take your car to work
I’ll take my board
And when you’re out of fuel
I’m still afloat
Knock on the door
What a bore
Brushes to bottles whatever to sell
Makes a buck for whenever he can
Mailorder as well
Name your price cause he’s the man
“Don’t stand there like some salesman, take a seat.” Ushio made a vague wave motion at his old couch as he walked towards another doorway. From what little Yusei could see, it was the kitchen. “I don’t have anything fancy, you’ll have to settle for water.”
“Thanks.” Yusei took a seat. The couch was surprisingly comfortable. He still had no idea what the officer was planning, though.
It was the Salesman that clued me off. I mean, our neighbors, they- they aren’t exactly charitable people, that is just not who they are. Mr. Jenkins practically boots him off his property, spitten’ and yellin’ and the like. But he just let them in, plain and simple. That is why i called 911, being the paranoid 8 year old I was.
Like any good salesman, he looked her in the eyes. Propping his hands up in a descriptive manner, he gestured through space, spreading the air as his wavy movements captured her vision. In the end, all she heard was his salespitch; after this, you will be beautiful.
The salesman came back our house three times that day. I wasn’t sure if he was lost or lonely. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he had a really bad short term memory. Or maybe he was searching for something that I wasn’t sure I had. When I heard the doorbell rang again, I debated ducking under my couch with my cellphone and dialing the police. Instead, I went to the window, and ther he was, dressed in his tan suit, looking like the world was collapsing around him.
The salesman tried desperately to sell the entire crate of Bibles, but no one seemed interested in them anymore. He remembered a time when everyone wanted a good Bible with deep margins so they could take notes but now no one had need for even a hotel Bible. “Cheap,” he heard himself say.
I saw the salesman approach me with his briefcase and false promises. “Act now, and you will receive blah blah blah.” I wasn’t going to fall for it this time. Too many times have I been swindled before by cheap English Leather and a shark’s crooked smile. I had enough. This time, I was out to deceive him.
A salesman, that makes me think of Mr. Frenzy from Jennifer and Josephine, a book by Bill Peet that I just read to my daughter Claire this morning. A salesman. I think of someone who doesn’t care about the person, just the sale, numbers are the only thing that matter. In a frenzy to make the sale. To be the top sales person.
There is a salesman in my country who became rich very fast but last year it was discovered he was going banrupt because he was making up his business.
i had bags under my eyes because i couldnt dream of a better future but you… you could charm anyone into doing anything and for that i envied you.
You snap fingers
to sell the casts, the
the miracle loves which
will heal girls with
“a broken chest”
like mine.
The salesman took a deep breathe and raised his hand to knock on the door. The first door. The first door of a new job in a new town with whole new people. Great. He can do this. Just breathe he reminds himself. Just breathe. And less than 20 seconds later he gets his first rejection.
She was undergoing dialysis for her ailing kidneys. He really needed the cash.
“Tell you what – if you buy now, I’ll cut the price by ten bucks.”
When you’re a door to door meat salesman in beef country, “no” is hardly a reason to quit.
A knock at the front door took me out of my trance and I stood up from my sit, quickly running to open the door. He stood there with a box in his hands and a small smile on his face. Saying my name I told him it was me and he handed the box to me. Without waiting for him to leave I opened the box and screamed, terror climbing up my throat and escaping. The eyes seemed to stare straight into my soul and piercing into my gut. My eyes widened with fear and I couldn’t hold back the vomit that rose after registering the face in the box. It took a moment for me to calm myself down but when I did I knelt next to the box can studied the head inside. It was clear who it was and as I recognized the features tears began to stream steadily down my cheeks, pure agony digging into every part of my body. I sat on the porch, sobbing uncontrollably.
You know you don’t need it,
but somehow you want it
You know you shouldn’t,
but you do.
You know you will,
but say you won’t.
You did.
The salesman won.