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The Making of an American
paste salesmen. This is for me, I thought. Everybody uses toothpaste; what could be easier?
The deal was very simple. All we had to do was persuade the druggists to stock our product. We salesmen got to keep the total proceeds of the first order. I took my sample case and started making the rounds. "I've got Colgate, Ipana, Squibb," the druggists told me. "I've got Dr. Lyon's, Pebeco, Forhan's, Pepsodent and Kolynos and Iodent, Number One and Two. I've got powders and stuff for dentures, so why would I want yours?"
"Because someone might come in and ask for it and if you didn't have it, you'd lose a sale."
"Young man, I'd switch them over to something I've got."
It went like that for two days. Then I remembered rezor. I rounded up several boys and offered them a few cents each. They were dispatched to the drug stores and told to ask for my product. If the druggist didn't have it, they were to go out. If the druggist tried to sell them something else, they were to say their mothers wouldn't have anything but my product in the house.
It worked pretty well too, but I could see there was no future in selling toothpaste. The next job was harder to find. Every time I answered an advertisement I found long lines of job-hunters ahead of me. I saw a classified ad that seemed to fill the bill perfectly. It was in the "Help Wanted, Male" section.
YOUNG MAN— Preferably recent arrival in this country. Must be able to cry profusely at will. Splendid opportunity to serve mankind and to advance himself. No overweight boys need apply.
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