Translated by Louise Drummond
Suddenly my longings were no longer hopes, and it was necessary to look for facts. I confronted a difficult decision in which I knew that I had to change jobs. As Textile Technician, I could not attain the economic solvency that I wished for.
A solid and viable project was necessary for my future. The first thing that I needed to do was to look for a position that I could qualify for. After going out to see about the matter several times, first I opted for sales, and by elimination, I decided on a job in medical sales and advertising. Then, to find a vacant spot.
The first application that I submitted was at Sanborn's; I chose this firm because I had contacts in the wholesale department. I arrived promptly for my appointment with the administrative executive. On seeing me enter his office, he rose and invited me to sit, dressed in a combination of grey jacket, blue trousers, a swarthy complexion, brown hair, and a slender build. He smilingly greeted me and with nothing more, he offered me the only vacante position that he had---office boy. I did not think about it twice before I accepted. It did not matter that at twenty-four years of age I would be the oldest office boy on record, as I was completely sure that I would soon be a salesman.
Within two months I was attending the sales classes. In one dark classroom with benches for seating, without much ventilation, and with the smell of humidity, and seated in an old desk, a salesman, badly dressed, a little fat, and with thin grey hair, and a bored expression taught the courses for to the new salesmen. I had hours and hours of homework speaking, biting a pencil to better my diction which even yet is a problem, and because of shyness, it is best not to speak.
At the send of the one week course, in the office they taught me hour to use the machines, and their benefits, razors and razor blades, both single and double, all articles by the American Sefty Company, which I was going to represent. The next Monday, I would make my debut with a sales rep along a corridor of Mexico City. All weekend I practiced how to present myself to the clients, how to demonstrate the products, and their prices, until I was exhausted.
I chose the area around the post office to initiate myself in sales. I found a wee pharmacy on a corner. I do not remember its name, but it had five stairs at the entrance, and just a few clients would have been sufficient to fill it. My shyness did not allow me to go up and I feared disturbing anyone, until a figure that I had thought a wax statue asked me, "Young man, what can I do for you?"
Surprised, I answered, "I am the Sandborn salesman."
"Speak louder. I couldn't hear you."
I repeated that I was the salesman from Sandborn
"I don't understand. You sell what?"
"I sell leaves," I told him.
Turning his head toward the store, he called: "Poncho, go to the storeroom to see what leaves we need. Wait a minute, please."
I prayed to all the saints that it be a good sale.
The said Poncho came back and delivered a paper.
"Send ten packages of leafs...orange leafs"
Editor's Note: In Spanish, "hoja" serves as the word for leaf, and for razor blade.
