Born to Bullshit

I'm a salesman, albeit not a tragic figure like Willy Loman (well not yet), therefore I have the natural ability to bullshit.

I've been bullshitting since I was very young and the best example would have to be the time I was in the first grade and I forgot to bring something in for show and tell.

Instead of bowing my head in shame, I had an idea. I was going to show my shoes and tell the class about them. When my turn came, I got up there, showed off my docksiders and made up a story about how my grandfather made them. (I was glad that I decided not to wear my Reeboks that day because it would have been pretty hard to convince even a group of seven year- olds that my grandfather was a small Asian child who worked in a factory in Taiwan.) I said that he was a cobbler from Sicily* and he came to America and made shoes for coal miners and continued to make shoes as a hobby for his friends and family. (All of this was of course a lie.)

I think the class believed me but I'm not so sure if the teacher, Mrs. VanShaften (sp?), did. She wound up calling my mother to tell her that her son was quite the little story teller and while my story was interesting and well crafted, it was indeed, made up. My mother sided with her son of course and rewarded me for my creativity. (Mrs. VanShaften was a real cunt but I think her daughter turned out to be a nice piece of ass.)

I think it was then that I knew I was destined to become a professional bullshit artist, which I am today. I sold nearly a million dollars worth a textbooks this past year without knowing anything about the product. Numbers don't lie folks.

I think my show and tell story would look great in a cover letter or sound even better in a job interview. "Tell me about a time where you had to think quickly on your feet..."

*Well, he was Sicilian at least.