Plight of the Pickled Egg Salesman - Conclusion

So you eventually find the Big Wig in the field! The big cheese when it comes to the craft of peddling the pickled egg. (Try to say that three times fast.) He tells you that he is going to retire and you are fucking ecstatic. This is your chance for the big time. You have the same feeling that a college player has when he gets drafted to the NFL or when a Triple A baseball player gets called up to the show. The future is yours and your dream is finally coming true! But there is a problem. This man who you want to learn the ropes from has a son. His son, in his dad’s eyes is a fucking idiot because he doesn’t want to take over the family business, and his dad wants him to carry on the pickled egg tradition. (But of course, no one else thinks the kid is an idiot, because who would actually want to do this type of sales? I’m sure being a Pickled Egg Salesman isn’t a profession that breaks the ice when trying to impress a lady.)

Now you need to convince the Egg Master that his son has no interest in carrying on the family name in the business world. (And his son is thankful, because you are helping him out, because deep down in his heart he wants to be a Plumber.) So you set up a meeting and you bring your A- game. You impart all the business knowledge that you have learned from the expensive and prestigious schooling you have had. You prove you are better than the Sham Wow guy when it comes to selling.

Oh, I am going to digress for a moment. What is the deal with the guy that pitches the Sham Wow? Is he a douchebag or what? His lines are pathetic:
“You’re gonna love my nuts” and “Linguine, Martini, Bikini…!”
Cut me a break moron. Oh, it gets better. This dunce got busted for beating up a prostitute in a Manhattan hotel room. What’s funny is, if you see his mug shot he looks like he got his ass kicked by her too. The reason why he beat her up? Because she bit his tongue when they were kissing! What a moron, he is. It’s a known fact you never make out with a hooker! I thought everyone knew that. Oh, and the moment he did that, he blew half of New York City by proxy!

So the Donald Trump of the egg world is impressed by you. He loves your passion and your fresh ideas about the industry. He takes you under his wing and imparts all his knowledge and wisdom to you. You are Ralph Macchio and he is Pat Morita! You have finally achieved your dream and are on cloud nine, when suddenly it happens! A Sal Manila breakout!

You are now thoroughly fucked! But weren’t you fucked from the beginning? I mean how many bars and restaurants sell pickled eggs? Just think of all the driving you would have to do and how many miles you would put on your car. And how much commission would you be able to make? I’m sure there isn’t a lot of room for a profitable mark up on your product. So people, my message to you is, if you have kids and they want to be a Pickled Egg Salesman, please discourage them. They would be better of selling Cutco cutlery door to door.