In 1976 I was offered an unusual job.
Well, not unusual really, it’s often referred to as the ‘oldest profession’. But unusual in that it was offered to me!
It all started when an insurance salesman I dated briefly talked about me to a client of his. Heaven only knows what he said to this guy, but it was enough to prompt the client to start calling me.
Incessantly!
At first, I refused the calls. Then he started making them person to person. Considering it was a local call, that kind of got my attention. Which was the point. He even had his ‘clipping service’ send me his bio!
Okay, I admit it; I’m weak, and curious.
I started taking his calls. Mostly the conversations revolved around how vastly rich he was. I was intrigued. I mean the guy owned his own TRAIN! (I’m not talking model trains here, I mean a REAL TRAIN!)
The Freedom Train. It was painted red, white and blue and it was touring the country in 1976 to celebrate the bicentennial.
He finally wore me down and I agreed to go out with him for a drink to discuss a job offer he had for me.
I gotta tell ya’, if the front door hadn’t been glass I wouldn’t have answered it! But he had already seen me so I was stuck.
Not that he was bad looking or anything like that (I may be shallow, but I’m not THAT shallow!) No, it was more his choice of attire.
He wore baby blue polyester pants that were six inches too short paired with a paisley rayon shirt with a white CRAVAT and black patent leather loafers! I kid you not!
And it went downhill from there!
We went to a dive bar located next to the railroad tracks (not the best area of town.) It was quite obvious that his intentions weren’t exactly honorable so I refused to let him buy me anything. I paid for my own drinks. I wasn’t taking any chances this guy could say I ‘Owed’ him anything.
At some point the conversation turned to the ‘wonderful opportunity’ he had in mind for me.
What it boiled down to after all his fancy tap dancing around was he wanted me to be a ‘companion’ to all the politicians and big wigs that would be using the Freedom Train in the coming year.
I would get to keep all but a ‘small percentage’ of what I earned.
I tried to be polite in my refusal. But after an evening of his insistence I finally just called a taxi, told him off and went home.
He kept up his ‘campaign’ for a few more weeks.
I finally had my mother tell him I had died and to stop calling!
The nerve of some people....although you could have been well heeled by now, but then we won't mention the pipework you would have had to maintain. lol. (I know, my comment takes a bit of thinking about, but you'll get there eventually)hehe.
ReplyDeleteHeavens to Betsy! They say truth is stranger than fiction.. what a shocker for you. Glad you thought of a way to stop him!
ReplyDeleteWow, he could have stepped out of the pages of the Sears catalog with that fashion ensemble. And I love how you had your mother tell him you had ceased to be! LOL
ReplyDeleteI am so glad I never had to deal with anyone like this. I still don't know how to deal effectively with people. I would probably have said yes to the job and then gone into hiding. That was my usual means of handling unpleasant situations. I usually hid out in the restroom - of the school, the dancehall or even at home. I'm not even a mouse (yours are super cute by the way). I am a chicken!
ReplyDeleteYou lead such an interesting (is that the word?) life - LOL :) Yes, having your mom tell him you were dead - hilarious :D Lol - lol - lol :D
ReplyDelete