Death of a salesman
Not much happens at a car dealership during the week. Well, not judging by my hour long wait at the Mazda garage this morning. My car needed a service, so I sat drinking weak complimentary coffee reading car magazines I didn't understand waiting to pay them £123 for the privilege of being told that everything was fine. I really wanted to browse through the copy of Heat but it was a bit too blokey a place in which to reveal my latent campness.
People wandered around at 9am arranging who was going to lunch and when. People would phone up to book in services for 'first thing next Tuesday, OK see you then, bye'. Saleman Number 1 stared out the window he must stare out of every day whilst Salesman Number 2 was on the phone reassuring his Grandma about something. Someone turned on a computer.
These people work together for five or six days a week, 7 hours a day and nothing much happens for most of that time. Occasionally they'll engage in well rehearsed skits; when the postman arrived complaining how wet it was, Salesman Number 1 replied with 'that might have something to do with the rain'. Nobody laughed.
After an lengthy silence; Salesman Number 1 walked up to Salesman Number 2 - 'that's an interesting sandwich you have their young James, what kind is it?' That'll be a tomato and cheese sandwich on crusty bread. 'Mmm I do like sandwiches with crusty bread'. They parted in silence, back to their own thoughts.
This may have been for my benefit as I was the only other person there, but I suspect it was just them putting on a mental screensaver, a little routine to prevent their brains from closing down completely.
Post a Comment