Dear Diary,
Today I am going to sell a washing machine.
Felix
Felix Sherman has never sold a washing machine. He is a tiny man, not a dwarf, but awkwardly tiny. He makes the women uncomfortable.
“This model is a doozie!” said Felix, to a new woman. She wandered her eyes and tightened her fists.
“I think I’ll come back later.” She looked for a clock to check, she rustled through her purse.
“This model—this doozie! It won’t be around later.” Felix’s smile grew big as he puffed out his chest and rocked on the balls of his feet. “How bout I wrap it up for you?”
She tried not to look in the direction of what had to be a very tiny penis, “No thank you.”
The woman left the store. Felix watched longingly as she walked out of Appliance Mart and into Appliance Depot. He put his hands in his pockets and kicked the washer.
“Hey stop that!” Brian the manager had his eye on Felix. “I’ll have you mopping the floors!”
“Sorry! Brian.” Felix got on his hands and knees spit on his hands and removed the scuff mark his shoes had left. Felix had not wanted to sell washing machines; instead, he had first pursued a career as a helicopter pilot. The recruiters for the Air Force had laughed at him. They had taken his hat and held it out of his reach. On the first day of the rest of his life, Felix had found himself jumping for a miserable hat. The National Guard had been eager to recruit Felix to his ranks, but after months of being violently raped, Felix was dishonorably discharged.
In the break room Felix sighed as he looked at the hand drawn spread sheet advertising the fact that Felix was the worst salesman on the floor. He ran his small stubby fingers over the star stickers beside Derrick Van Bulane’s name. Derrick had sold nine washing machines in just October.
Post a Comment