What I Learned From Really, Really Tired Feet
[Note from the proprietor: This here post is my entry for this month's What I Learned From... writing project. This month's topic is "Odd Jobs", and if you'd care to enter (we'd love to have ya!), just click that cute little link there and check it out!]
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… (Well, actually, it was right here in Houston, but since I was just a teen-ager at the time, it might as well have been a completely different universe.)
Anyway, ever since my very first job (behind the counter at Dairy Queen), I’ve done quite a few things to earn a dollar or two (and in some cases, that’s pretty much all I got!) It’s no surprise that most of the more esoteric things were pretty much during my sad, misspent youth (hey, when you’re still in high school, you’ll do pretty much anything to earn date money). Things like, let’s see now…
- Working the concession stand in a movie theater – and later as an usher (I took the job so I could earn enough money for a motorcycle and thus be free of Mom and the family car)
- “Help” in the children’s facilities at a local country club (a menial, demeaning task; I worked harder than I’d ever worked before on my first day, and the next day they fired me because I was “too thorough”!)
- Carpenter’s helper (spent a few months one winter helping a finishing carpenter do the wood trim on new houses – a good job but very hard on the knees because they always gave me the baseboard trim to install)
… and many, many more. But probably the most unusual of my many jobs, and the one that stands out the most was that time I spent as a Fuller Brush Salesman.
Does anybody still remember Fuller Brush? They used to sell door-to-door, and yes, that was my job. I had this little kit of samples and things we had to carry around, hitting every house on a selected number of blocks. I was one of a team of young fellows who hit the Houston neighborhoods every Saturday.
But there was this one summer Saturday I remember…
It was especially hot that day (remember, this was Houston in the summertime – miserably sultry at the best times), and I had several very long blocks to cover before the guy with the car came back to pick us up. (That was the genius of the system – they dropped us off in a neighborhood nowhere near home, and we HAD to get to the finish point before getting picked up at the end of the day. Downright sneaky!)
All morning long, I worked my way up one side of this really long street and down the other, proudly showing off our home and personal care products to whoever would open the door. (I can’t imagine a door-to-door business being too successful today, considering how our cultures have, um, declined over the years, but at the time it was quite a viable business model.)
I stopped for lunch under a handy shade tree, and went over to the next street for the afternoon slog. Now it was getting starting to get really hot. The case of samples was getting heavier and heavier as time wore on, and I began to wonder if I was going to make it. On top of that, my feet were really starting to get warm; downright steamy, even. Ugh!
It finally got so all I wanted to do was take my shoes off and let the ol’ dogs get a breather! I looked around for a resting spot, and ended up sitting on the curb for a few minutes in front of one of the houses. I set my case down and proceeded to remove my shoes and socks, and then had a moment of brilliance.
By an amazing coincidence, one of the items in my case was a can of aerosol foot spray! How about that? So I took the can out and sprayed the soles of both feet. Wow, it was like… like fresh summer dew on a cool morning… dipping my feet in a cool, clear stream… walking in the surf at Galveston (er, without the gritty sand, that is)… well, you get the picture, right?
Man, I have no idea what that stuff was, but I would have bought a case of it myself right about then!
After a few minutes of this, though, I knew I had to get going. So I reluctantly put on my shoes and proceeded on my way. Since I was already in front of this house, I went on up to the front door and rang the doorbell.
A nice lady came to the door, and before I even managed to get a word out, she said, “Honey, I saw you use that foot spray, and it looked like it really helped you. I’ll take 10 cans of it! What else ya got?”
Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather! (Sound of me, being knocked over with a feather.) I’d been talking myself blue in the face all the way up one street and down another (and doing fairly well, I must say), but here I’d made a sale without saying a word! Naturally, not being willing to just leave it at that, I started showing her some of the other products she might want. And she listened. And bought.
It was a glorious moment, I’ll tell ya!
Well, my Fuller Brush career fell on hard times before too long (I couldn’t stand it anymore!), but I’ve never forgotten that day, nor that nice lady. Thinking back on that experience, I’d say there were some pretty valuable lessons to be learned, and since this is WILF week, well, why don’t I just list a few of the P’s and Q’s here? (Well, maybe just the P’s. We’ll save the Q’s for another day.)
Perseverance – I have no idea how far I really had to walk that day, but I know that, what with the ol’ knees and feet not bein’ what they used ta be, well, it’s probably farther than I could comfortably walk today! But at the time, I knew I had to keep going, no matter what. Hey, it was the job.
Pride – To be honest, I was proud to be selling these products – they were really very good! The thing is, though; no matter how good your product or service, there is no better testimonial than when it’s something you’d use yourself! I didn’t have to tell her how good the foot spray was; I showed her.
Public – If nothing else, understand this one thing, and this one thing only: everything you do is being observed by someone. Whether you know it or not, people are watching you (which will probably make you either aware – or paranoid). But (and here’s the good part), you can turn it into an opportunity as well.
Potential – Having opened the door with one product, I used the opportunity to make the sale even bigger with other items. By the time I was finished, I’d sold several cans of paneling polish (many homes those days had wood paneling), spot removers, and of course, several brushes (they used to be the best). I think it might have been some kind of one-day record or something.
Possible – One of the things I learned from doing so many odd jobs over the years of my youth was that there are literally no limits to what the possibilities are out there in the world! If you can imagine it, you can probably figure out a way to get paid for it – if you’re willing to do your homework first.
Well, a lot of other jobs have come and gone, and even what I do now may not be the final one; who really knows? All I can say is, the world is full of opportunity, and if you’re not afraid to do the 
sometimes menial stuff, well Bubba, you just might stumble across something really interesting!
[Hey, if you think you've got something you'd like to share about an odd job you've had, why not join us this month? Just click on this link for all the details.]
18 responses so far
Middle Zone Musings is a comfortable place to stop, have a cup of coffee, swap a few stories and share practical ideas for the real world. I don't ask for much, just a bit of your brain every now and then. Have a seat, take a load off, and relax...
Great story, Bob. As a kid, I vaguely remember door to door salesmen coming around with vacuum cleaners and encyclopedias (separately). Seemed like a tough way to make a buck, so I admire you for taking the job in the first place and sticking with it! Something I thought of while reading your post is the old expression, “the harder you work, the luckier you get.”
Thanks, Brad. It’s hard to believe that was so long ago! *sigh*
I used to work in an apiary. And was allergic to bees.
Well, we wore nets and everything, so it was cool right?
*AHEM*
Nope.
One day, a bee crawled under the face net and stung me on the chin. My face swelled up like a hippo, and I was starting to freak out — and no allergic reaction. None. Yes, I looked like a balloon for a few days, but it was such a relief that I had gotten stung and not died!
I had lived since I was 3 yo afraid of bees, carrying a kit with me. A few years had gone by and I hadn’t been stung and I left the kit at home by and by — but I was terrified of bees.
It was supposed to be safe working in the extracting room that day, or I wouldn’t have done it, but getting stung released me from a prison of being deathly afraid of anything that flew. So in a way, I was so happy for that bee sting — and still am. It felt like a huge release, and changed me from being terrified of life to being more excited and welcoming of life.
Bob, I can just imagine you would make a great salesman. What I see in this story is that you didn’t try to push your product on anybody as most salesmen do. This woman saw that it worked.
I wonder if she told anyone else since mouth to mouth marketing works well in these kinds of instances.
That would really build your pride!
Loved the image here.
That’s interesting Robert. Is Fuller Brush still around?
Anyway, I think sales is hard no matter who you are working for. (But, maybe that’s just me.)
Hello, Ria! Wow, I never even knew what an apiary was ’til you wrote about it here. Learn something new every day!
Yike, Ria – how in the world did you ever screw up the courage to even get around the little darlings? I sure wouldn’t have! But I’m glad for your newfound freedom of worry from that weight hanging over you. Ironic how that worked out, eh?
Robyn, you’re too kind! I suppose I could make a good salesman, but it has to be something I believe in before I can truly commit to it.
Laura, amazingly enough, Fuller Brush is indeed still alive and kicking! I don’t guess they go door-to-door anymore since the invention of the Internet, though.
I think sales is hard if you’re not a “true believer” in the product. But if it were something I knew would benefit the buyer – and I knew they would thank me for it later – well, I’d probably be a fairly good salesman. (That’s why I took on my side biz!)
Robert: Excellent! Yes, I remember the Fuller Brush salesmen. Haven’t seen one in about 40 years, though. I loved the huge suitcase full of samples when I was a kid. Hey, got any more of that foot powder?
[...] out this fun piece on odd jobs by Robert Hruzek of Middle Zone [...]
Mark – thanks! Don’t I wish!
Although… it was probably just an aerosol can of perfumed, powdered air. But it was Heaven in a Can at the time, though!
my dad, an airline pilot picked up a door to door gig for something else to do, it certainly wasn’t for the mucho bucks he made. His training involved motivation and sales pitches and were all on tape. Our entire family listened to those stupid tapes during dinner. Area Home Improvement, Aluminum Siding Sales. I found the tapes nauseating, syrupy and very annoying. I found them remarkably not believable. My dad acted like the they were the best thing since sliced bread. To this day I don’t think he hever made a sale and I know as a family we never talked about it – it would be just too darn human for my father to fail.
I like what you said about door to door salesfolks these days – I don’t think it would fly either
Shame really, my mom always made lemonade when one of these folks stopped by. She still has the encyclopdia britanica’s on her book shelf!!
Gee, Karen, I’d forgotten about those encyclopedias! To this day I can still remember being amazed that some poor crazy person would actually carry a set of those things around, door-to-door! (Hey, I was just a kid; who knew?)
But lemonade, now – wow, that sounds good right now. Funny, just reading the word made my mouth tingle!
[...] Kennedy used to work in an apiary, which, in case you didn’t know, was a “bee yard”. But here’s the kicker: [...]
One thing I always ask when someone is giving me a hard sell: Do you own this yourself? Do you use it yourself?
Good story. Thanks a million for joining forces with us on the Odd Jobs idea.
Marcus, those are good questions to ask, too. And as for the project; well it’s serendipity, it is.
[...] What I Learned from Really Tired Feet by Robert Hruzek in Houston, the guy who helped out a TON on this little project and spins a good ol’ yarn (a true one, mind you) about foot spray and Texas heat. [...]
[...] What I Learned From Really, Really Tired Feet, Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings [...]