I woke up on the ceramic floor of a cold bathroom covered in shit. The first LIE the puppy training books tell you is that dogs do not crap where they eat. The shit was semi-hard, which is a good thing considering I stole this child from its mother's puppy pile. Parvo is constantly on my mind-- when I thought about the kid being shot with disease for cure, ripped of his ball sac by the HUMANE society, then signed for and paid for like an itemized whore-- I thought it best to leave a gorgeous naked girl in bed and make my way to the bathroom last night. (the puppies fear of isolation is a night whimper that does not clog with steak). My nose was a stuffed chimney. "Kon" licked me face and panted sweats at having left the floor heater on. He was hot, I was frozen.
BREAKFAST: Folgers's coffee. We were still paying for the Swiss 'Gevalia' with the oily beans every month (or me house mate was rather)… the cone shape filter allowing about 4 scoops max for a full load. Then you wait while brewing. The puppy looks at you like you are a god for staying with him last night. He smiles and then shits near the cat's food. Avoid using place mats for pets-- they don't get it, and the Garfield /Odie characters (symbolized on the mats) never characterize the greed of the cat nor the slobber of the dog just right. I light up a Winston 100 to fill my belly with the cup of Joe. The coffee is hot enough. I am thinking about the study that fresh coffee has anti-carcinogens. Course the same local news tells of wine being bad for you one month, then the cure for heart disease the next. I am noticing the consistency of these studies and how well they go with the commercials played between the news spots. Our late blooming version of a Jodi Besset is on anchor this morning hour saying that this weeks miracle food is chocolate. And the radio man is telling locals that the UW is better than Harvard for medicine. Had I not been transplanted and so weary of the modern expert-- I too would have swelled with pride and promise. I didn't.I picked up some puppy shit and wondered if it might not be so hard to take my child to work.
We drove in the Ford ex150 super van. It wasn't as fun as the Jeep or the 4x4 truck…but with the v8 and nothing to pull-- I could still make allowances for road rage. 'smashing' I had told fleet dispensaries at receiving this white Bertha bitch. Now the brick on wheels rolled with me in the electric old man seat. Kon sat between the fronts and the back rows where ghosted with passengers. Of course some fleet guy so full of gaseous intelligentsia thought it wiser we all had the "men's" vans verses the opposing "mother's mini-vans", I kept thinking what a bitch it was gonna to be to drive and park. I was in a virgin fat man, we stopped for coffee. Quad Latte for me, bottled water for Kon. The puppy barked quietly that I should tip the pretty girl.
"do you show tits?"
"what???"
"err.. I said 'do you blow hits'?"
It was early. Mother had taught me that it was better to look like a crack lord rather than a male chauvinist. So I left the coffee girl bewildered at her drive-in window. It's a funny thing for visitors to see the coffee "boxes" of the northwest. They find that Seattle's Best Coffee (SBC) has corporate headquarter in Frisco (I put in my time-- am allowed to call it that) ..they find that necessity of some thing does not command the price of convenience or products of snobbery. Thusly, we do not go in a café to get loaded up. Nor do we pay too much for the fix. We buy, buy, buy crack coffee cocaine like it is a mother's lactation endowed to us as much as cheap beef.
"how the carpet boy?"
he was sniffing around for a shit spot and the van didn't look like it would be so preppy -new in a sec. I was wearing a strip down suit. That is wool slacks despite the weather and a collared shirt missing the tie. It was professional look of the guy who should wear a tie but took it off just for you. I headed for a grocery store. It was time to get into a fight.
"WHERE THE HELL IS THE PRODUCT????"
The old man was looking at me like I was insane. The managerial non-union grocers have just a few minutes to learn why labor in group is so much better than cowboy living.
"ARE YOU SOME KIND OF COWBOY THAT DOESN'T GO BY CORPORATE?"
"DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WE PAID YOUR COMPANY TO HAVE OUR PRODUCT HERE WHEN CUSTOMERS ARRIVE????"
Don’t' feel sorry for the old guy. He sold me and you out for Mariners tickets. Maybe he just got lazy, maybe stupid. Some DSD (beer guy or soda jerk) Rep. came in and convinced him to defy the word of the corporate gods--to vary from the neat little map agreed upon.. so we have 8 SKU's (product/sizes--Stock Keeping Units) slotted for 1.4 million not being maximized because some old guy is trying to see Ichiro with greased tickets.
"YOU and your PEOPLE are suppose to ORDER THIS PRODUCT…WOULD YOU RATHER US ORDER IT???"
The old man looked down. He could kick me out of his store in certain cases, but on this I had the law of the aisles behind me. I had a few more cards to play but it was time for a transition. His store was off the tourist route and my directors and VIP's would never see it. It was time to make him buy something extra.. and I didn't feel like being humble.
"YOU GOT TO MAKE THIS GOOD JOE…YOU GOT TO GIVE BACK TO THE CUSTOMERS YOU STOLE FROM."
I paused to let this sink in. Do not attempt these tactics if you have a "route". That just means that you will have to bend over next week. My unique position was "roving" thus it was very important to leave an impression.
"Joe…the numbers are in. We carry the water that America wants. You have not made these products available to miss Bob and Sally America. You have failed them Joe. "
Joe was trying to get angry. Perhaps this defense worked for the brokers or the soda packers.
"leave a note Joe…your gonna buy me lunch so we can discuss."
Here's the fun part in that I have an expense report set aside just for the purpose of buying lunches and such. I have a new van looking so pretty that Joe will never realize it smells of dog shit through and through until I have him in and the automatic locks are engaged. Just like any other date.. one of the best things is to just drive. The date can't easily escape your presence and since your buttocks are both busy sitting, there is ample opportunity for talk that is suggestive, explorative, and mingling.
"we need some decent food Joe…I don't know how you got stuck out here in the boonies."
Joe smiled at this.
"I hear you were a damn good ICC at store 1548 Joe."
He blushes just a little bit and is no longer trying to stick his head out the window for air. It is easier to hear the compliments without the whisking wind-stream clogging his ear canals. I had traveled with traffic on the 405 hoping that post lunch operation would be a dash and dump back. In North Renton I settled on a Ma & Pa hamburger place. Joe looked hurt.
"you didn't think I would take you to Bellevue smelling like poopy-puppy.. did ya Joe?"
Joe ordered a Super Burger. I knew it would be too big to fit in his mouth. I considered asking for a fork and knife then thought better of it and ordered a small salad and coffee. I rarely eat with clients. I lost my stomach for it as a high school student visiting our local Kiwanis. All the captains of industry and medical sciences clogged their mouth holes with food so viciously (with and without speeches and money thieving) that somehow the meal process has seated itself in my mind as one primordial rip of a mongrel meal.
Joe starred at the large stocked bun. I was tempted to tell him that they indeed served everything they said they would serve. Instead, I walked to the counter and grabbed the extra fork and Knife. The lunch would be long for Joe. I didn't want to stare at a man with half his lunch gushing out of his finger and the other half choking down his throat.
"you gonna eat?"
"No thanks Joe. I appreciate you buying me this salad. My appetite seems to have withered."
I had always wanted to take a grocer to the Ruston Bison Burger stop. They stocked 14 different types of hot sauce. As the meat is lean and the Cajun and Jamaican picante are so pretty in their little bottles, I figured it would be a fire cracker of a luncheon.
Ruston was out of the way. So here I was with Joe.
I waited till Joe had gotten through half of the sandwich. I did not feel up to another talk of the Mariners or asking Joe about his grandchildren or listening to little league, etc,etc,etc,etc.
"Joe are you going to need some help building a display?" he almost choked."display?"

"well you don't want corporate giving us a check for your mistakes …do you?"
our eyes met. He wiped the mayonnaise off his mouth with a napkin.
"You see.. we have a MEDS program. There is no room for displays."
He thought he could stone behind the wall of Jack-Knifing.
"now.. joe…"
I let my eye curl up in a piercing knot. Pitchers had drop, knuckles, and heat-- I just had my eye brows.
"joe.. your gonna have to dig into your flex space."
"flex space?"
"2-6%" I quoted
"your not gonna have me measure the store for you Joe, are you?'
the old guy hiccuped a laugh. He couldn't see a dick head like me actually measuring with a tape. It would take hours. I opened my soft leather attaché and brought out a collapsible distance wheel. I pulled out the handle and let him see it set up.
"got this from a cop when some guy hit my jeep. These things are great! You ever used one of these Joe??"
He looked at me like a manufacturing furher.
"no, I haven't"
"let's make it 4% then Joe"
He looked like he was gonna choke. I pushed the water over to him.
Fear not dear reader.. though I am leaving a puppy in a car …it is a rainy Seattle day. Though it appears I am extorting when I should be selling…I am saving Joe from coughing up a million dollars on account of his poor ordering skills. All-in-all, Joe is out 11.50$ for lunch and my puppy will be feasting on some charbroiled patties in a minute.
"I have that figured as 600 cases."
"six hundred!"
I had coupons I could give him.. make it look like a manager's special. Make it look like Joe was doing a good thing for the people of his community. He would need something to explain such a billboard sized display once his District Manager came by. He would need the extra .55 cents off (1.10$/2 packs) perhaps even finding some charity like girls softball to give proceeds to. As the Northwest is still old fashioned in lieu of other West Coast locals, Joe had much savings grace in the coupons that I did not offer.
"when are you coming back?"
It was Joe's attempt at stall and dismissal.
"in two days Joe. That's one night to order and another day to sell through existing stock."
He licked his upper lip.
"We have inventory coming up"
his eyes looked hopeful.
"I am sure you'll do fine Joe. Do you expect to fail in the 600 cases by Thursday?"
Joe looked inside himself.
"no.. no, I guess I don't"
"great!" I brought out an itemized contract. I put the keys suggestively out on the table as reminder that we were not leaving that moment.
The 600 cases were written in , then spelled out. The date was added as was his name/position/store/street address/payroll number/ direct supervisor/days off, and finally a place for a signature.
"be careful to read that last paragraph Joe."
Joe took out his reading glasses. In the event of his failure "to perform the task(s) described above…. " Joe signed before finishing.
"Joe.."
"yes?"
"you really should have studied that last paragraph better."
"why?"
"Joe…(pause) … in the event of your failure-- termination is not a problem for you.""It's not??" Joe was bewildered."no Joe. " I shook my head in sadness. "you have just agreed to be personally responsible for all our losses on slotting. "
I held my calculator out to show him. He was not looking well. I thought of dumping the tray then realized that more Americans needed work. Joe got into the van and seemed to take no notice of the fresh turds at the base of his passenger seat. I put the van in gear. Boeing was moving to Chicago, SafeCo Insurance was restructuring to drop 400 workers, Amazon.com sat in an old hospital on the hill waiting to pay for their overhead with off-season orders. The entire Puget Sound was hauling an insecure load. Joe had his ride back and his worries. I dropped him off. Told my puppy he was a good boy. Used the contract to pick up the shit and hock it through the window. I hoped it was biodegradable. I hoped that Joe didn't think too much, that he just got it done. I hoped to be home soon.