Some accused me since yesterday of lacking empathy toward the feelings of those whose own sensitivity is based in experiences I cannot share (something that, if you’ll recall, I fully acknowledged in the original post).
I can definitely dig it.
hmm… thinking about a title for a column: Amway Messiah.
Not cool, said I!
Don’t joke. Once, years ago, I was trapped with an Amway salesman in my own home. Or was it Shaklee? Traumatic.
It was truly awful. This guy was a friend of mine — a coworker. He had asked to visit my home, without telling me why, and I had agreed. My wife, perhaps sensing danger, left us alone in the living room. For at least an hour, he spoke of the fact that he had come up with this great new way to make extra money, and my eyes are glazing over, thinking how on Earth it had anything to do with me, because I was totally uninterested, and wondering how much longer it would last, and murmuring vague things along the lines of “How nice for you,” when he FINALLY mentions the outfit he’s working with. Which, of course, if he had mentioned on the front end, I would have politely told him I wasn’t interested before he bothered coming to the house.
Then, he extolled the virtues of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for maybe another hour, while I sat there in a state of helpless, polite shock. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Time I would never, ever get back.
It’s been close to 30 years. But PTSD is long-lasting, they say. It made me permanently shy about EVER hearing about wonderful business opportunities of any kind (which made it easier for me to brush off all those people calling me with “franchising opportunities” after I got laid off). So don’t joke about it.