CARLO’S GAP YEAR Chapter 9 of 10

It was a weird day of sales, but luckily Carlo managed to pull something in towards the end of the day. A $1,200 sale that was going to finish up being processed on the following day.

“I need to wait until I get paid, but I want this, this and this, ” the buyer had said.

Carlo had started to see how consumers spend – some very conservatively – watching the presentation for their information, but either buying nothing, getting simply what they need, or saying “I’ll have to talk it over with my spouse, we’ll let you know. Do you have a business card?”

Carlo hated that response, because he later found out it was just an excuse instead of saying “no.”

The office team meeting was the next day. He wondered how Harry did during this week – if he was able to match last week’s results, or if it was just a fluke. As he was going into the office, down a hallway, a young lady which Carlo had recognized from his training class came running down the hall.

She was crying. Bawling, really.

“Are you alright?” Carlo asked.

“No, it’s just – it’s,” she cried some more and wiped the tears from her face with the back of one hand.

“He fired me. Said I wasn’t selling enough and that this job isn’t for me.”

Oh no, they’re like that here? Carlo thought.

He figured that the more people such an organization had, the better. He thought that because he got the job, they gave virtually anyone a job.

“I’m so sorry. You’ll find something else,” Carlo said.

“They’re not done firing yet, so I hope you get good sales so that you’re not next,” the woman said and walked away.

Carlo gulped and walked into the office.

“Carlo, what were your sales for this week?” Mr. Foresman automatically asked him as he walked into the room.

“I got a $1,200 sale yesterday, I’m just waiting on their go-ahead to process the order.”

Mr. Foresman looked at Harry, who was already sitting in the only pulled-out chair in the office.

“Ok, you can sit down.”

“Hey, howya doin brotha?” Harry said. “Nice sale, keep it up.”

“Okay everyone,” but it was just a few people, “the reason we’re downsized in this week moving forward is because we’re rebuilding the team from the ground up. Only high producing assets, from now on.”

Everyone else is just taking up space, and from now on we’re going to learn more high-powered sales tools.

“Harry, how much did you produce this week?”

“16,000, sir.”

“Not quite as good as last week, but still bloody fantastic. Carlo, you?”

He was looking off, thinking about what the woman said about his sales career ending soon.

“What?”

“How much did you sell this week?”

“Well,” he began to sweat.

That was all he sold all week!

“$5,000, total.”

“Way to go, Carlo!” Mr Foresman said. “Great. We have the right people here, then.”

The whole rest of the training meeting, Carlo was zoned out, thinking about how he lied and how he was gonna make up the rest of the sales.

That’s it! I know how I’ll get the rest of the sales I need.

The end of the meeting came soon, and Harry was quick to make his way out the door.

“Hey man!” Carlo said.

“Oh, hey lil bro. Pretty impressive sale.”

“When can you take some time out of your busy schedule to mentor me?”

“Woah, woah. Cool it Carlo. I have a very busy and demanding schedule. Starting tomorrow is another busy sales week, not to mention I’ve got other biz.”

“Can you please sit down with me and tell me how you get so many sales? How do you get them to buy that much?”

Harry hesitated before responding. “What are you doing now?”

“Your magic didn’t work,” Carlo said.

“No podía terminar el encanto. Ni empecé, realmente,” Jorge said.

Harry and Carlo arrived at a bar.

Carlo didn’t ask anything about it. He was in no position to question his mentor.

If Harry said he could get them in, there was no reason not to believe him.

A large barrel-chested man at the door eyed up the duo.

“ID’s.”

“Ah man, Carlo, I told you to bring your passport,” Harry said.

Carlo startled, and immediately realized what was going on.

“Aye, dios mio! Como me olvide!” Carlo put his hands up to his head. “¿Me vas a dejar entrar?”

He did a double-take to Harry.

“What’d he just tell me?”

“Chuck, I would like to introduce you to my cousin. He’s from Mexico, from the Spanish side through my step dad, that’s why we don’t look alike. He’s just here for a short period of time.”

The bouncer looked at him blankly. Already he could tell where this was going.

“I can’t.”

“Just this one time for me, please – as one of the best customers here.”

Harry slid him something into the bouncer’s hand as Chuck clutched at it immediately.

His eyes widened, face changing from stern to lenient.

Without any further words, he opened the door to the bar and old country music poured through, “have a great time.”

“How did you get him to let me in? I’m only 18,” Jorge said.

“That’s what I’m here to teach you tonight, the art of dealing and persuasion.”

Inside the bar was loud electronic music and mostly young adults, with a few older locals amidst the crowd.

“Harry!” a group of people towards the other end of the bar said.

“I got friends here, just follow me.”

As Carlo walked behind his older mentor, he realized that there were many more women than there were men. Blondes and brunettes looked at the two of them, at least once, some more than once.

A nervous excitement built up in Carlo.

This must be how growing up is like. Beautiful women hang out at places like these.

He thought about all the times he drove past that bar and saw no one going in nor out.

And yet, for a Tuesday night, this place was packed! They got to the friends, and they all greeted Harry amiably first.

“Harry, you’re a God-send! You’ve got just what we needed.”

Another man said, “do you have any–“

“This is my friend, Carlo. He’s never been to a bar before, so let’s take it easy tonight.” Harry winked.

Everyone instantly disheartened.

“Hey Carlo, nice to meet you. Glad they let you in,” someone shook his hand before ordering another drink.

A woman came from behind Harry and hugged him from the back.

Carlo turned around to see it was a beautiful blonde bombshell wearing a cowboy hat and boots.

“Sidney, what are you doing here?” Harry said.

“I guess something just told me to come tonight”

She smiled into his face and they locked eyes.

Carlo could see that they must’ve known each other a bit better than the rest.

Suddenly, a new and popular song, for the time came on and Sidney pulled Harry out to the center of the dance floor.

“Hold on, I haven’t even gotten a drink yet.”

“All you ever do is drink. C’monn, do you want a drink… or me?”

Harry followed the woman like a puppy on a leash the rest of the night.

“Well kid,” one of the other adults, the one who shook his hand, said, “looks like you’re chilling with us tonight. So. You like coke?”

All of the eyes around the group were suddenly on Carlo.

“No. I prefer ginger ale.”

Carlo woke up in his bedroom.

There was a peculiar smell in his room that morning – he had already known what two Mexican men staying in the same room smelled like…

It was a distinctive smell.

Like that of a house held by a certain culture that others visiting can note, but that people who live in that home can’t pick up on anymore.

Beans, Carlo thought. Beans were the notes in the air on a typical day.

But today it was different.

“Ohhhh” he groaned, immediately getting on his side, he wanted to puke, and almost did if it wasn’t for his uncle, who was sitting in his wheelchair watching him as he woke up.

“Que, has tomado alcohol noche?” he asked. He was holding a hot cup of tea, and handed it to him.

Carlo didn’t respond other than with a groan as he tried to roll on to his other side, but ended up needing to spring up and run out into the bathroom.

Carlo got into his suit and a little while later realized the real damage he did to himself last night – he felt terrible, but that wasn’t going to stop him from selling.

Just as he was on his way out the door, he heard a ring and checked his phone.

It was Harry.

“Hey, Harry,” Carlo said.

“Man, you up? Are you Ok?”

“Oh man, I feel terrible. I’ve never been that drunk before. But I’m still going to sell. I’m about-“

“Come meet me. It’s about time I teach you a few tricks of the trade..”

“Cool, what time? Where at?”

“I’m right outside.”

Harry pulled up to a warehouse near downtown, “this is what I wanted to show you.”

“What’s this?”

“A plant I worked at, lots of guys here know me, and yet I haven’t gotten done selling to most of them yet.”

Carlo thought – how smart was that. Harry had a captive audience! No wonder he was able to sell so much.

“Come on.”

Harry flashed an ID to come into a side door, but it didn’t open.

“What the – it always works.”

A security officer came around the building, shouting “Harry, you know you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Frankie, hey what’s up man? What’s the- problem?”

“Man, you stopped working here a month ago. You know you’re not sup-“

“Man, I’m here on business. You know everybody loves me here. Just looking to enrich the employees inside this building with a better life.”

The officer stood there, hands on his belt, clearly not buying what Harry was saying.

“Look, my employee, the youngest member of my personal selling squad,” he pointed at Carlo. “He came with me so I could show him the ropes.”

Suddenly the security officer’s face softened. It looked like he was suddenly enlightened by an idea.

“Ok, well, let me ask you this. Do you…” he leaned up to Harry’s ear and spoke.

Carlo couldn’t ascertain what was said.

“Of course. The very best!”

The security guard motioned for Harry to come with him.

“But you stay here,” he said to Carlo.

Within minutes, Harry was coming out of the security office with a new badge.

“We’re in business, baby!” He said, waving a new badge high in the air.

Inside the building, there were different types of machines with different people manning each machine.

Mostly Hispanic men and women worked there.

“Buenos dias, seńor Harry,” many Spanish factory workers said as they passed by.

“A good reputation is worth its weight in gold,” Harry told Carlo.

They walked past everyone, up some metal stairs overlooking the large production space, and through another door.

Here were many Spanish women, mostly pretty, of all ages and skin colors, sitting in cubicles with mic’d-up headphones on their head.

“It’s a call center for what they’re producing below.”

“What are they producing?”

“Textiles, mostly. But they don’t just sell what’s down there, but also things from around the world. It’s an international corporation.”

“Whoa,” Carlo said.

“Harry, hola!” One of the women came to him and planted a big smooch that left red lipstick on his face.

“Gloria, how are you?” (-or put, “como estas”)

“Ay muy bien, porque no me llamas… ahora?” she squeezed his arm.

“What’d she say? My spanish is very limited.”

The woman’s big brown puppy eyes shined into Carlo, “She asked why you don’t call her any more.”

“Tell her I’ve been busy.”

“Estaba ocupado, dice”

Harry smiled as the beautiful woman’s face turned from wanderlusting to upset, and she stormed off without any other words.

“Latinas. Gotta love ‘em.”

On the other side of the rows of call center employees, there was yet another door which Harry went into.

Clearly it was an executive office, or something to that regard, because from the carpet, the floor turned to granite tile, dark-stained and well-adorned wooden furniture upholstered to a T was everywhere.

“This is where I come most days when I work,” Harry said.

Carlo almost couldn’t believe it.

All that communication, all that confidence, and his grandiose attitude towards life enable him these opportunities, Carlo thought.

Already it was a lesson on how to live life (like Harry) constantly bursting through doors with effort and charm, where most would turn back at.

“Where do you work at? Who do you sell to?” Carlo asked.

“That’s the difference between you and me – we’re on different levels, entirely. While you are stuck hitting the streets, limited by how many people will open doors to you, I use a different method completely.” Carlo perked.

This was it.

This was the information he needed. This was going to catapult him from paychecks of a few hundred dollars to thousands.

He was going to get the Jeep he wanted, he thought, he was going to be able to drive to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen’s house, park it in front, so she couldn’t miss it, maybe with a new suit, and knock boldly.

If the father came to the door, like he did last time, he would say, “Sir, I am here to ask your daughter on a date. I have prepared myself for this and intend to be nothing but the kindest gentleman to your beautiful daughter.”

He imagined the father would gladly hand over his beautiful daughter to Carlo, when he saw the beautiful Jeep parked intentionally at-view and his gray suit, noticing he is a wealthy and successful, educated young man who would treat his daughter with respect – all of this he thought in a split second, because truthfully, his subconscious mind was already imagining this in his thoughts and his daydreams since he first met her.

“How do you do it?!” Carlo bounced forward as he asked this, Harry noticed.