At The Impound Lot

There comes a time in every reps term where we get towed. Like it or not its destiny. You and the impound lot were meant to be together.

Its another one of my favorite hundred degree weather days. As usual I am in a fabulous suit with pumps, sweating like I'm filming a commercial for Nike. I'm hobbling along block after block seeing bunions in my future.

I get back to where my car is and its not there. I don't know why but I can't read the signs in NYC. I don't understand what they are trying to say. Do they speak Aramaic at the DMV? You know these punks created this labyrinth so they can issue tickets.

I ask some guy who's pooping his dog where my car could be towed to. He says "one place the impound lot". As luck would have it, on the other side of the city.

At the time I am poor and can't believe its going to cost me $350 to get my car back. I might also mention the car is not even worth $350...its 12 years old. I decide I can't afford to spend any more money, so a cab is out-of-the-question.

To further punish myself for being such a dumby I pilgrimage some 47 blocks to my destiny. When I arrive I find out that I need to present my ID and then wait for an hour. Why the wait I ask? The cops tell me they have to run a background check and be sure I have no outstanding tickets.

Where is the customer service?

I sit in one of the worlds dirtiest cities in an even dirtier office. The cop behind the desk is staring at my boobs. I notice for some reason that gnats are everywhere. I face the decision to wait out in the heat or hang with the "lord of the flies."

I conclude they are checking me out to see if I am mob connected... as they only do in NY.

It Was The Best Of Times, It Was The Worst Of Times

New York, New York. The Big Apple. Everyone thinks we look super chic and flawless all the time. We just play it off better than the rest. This is the story about a sort of "we're not in Kansas anymore Toto" realization.

Sometimes I can't believe I used to put up with the kind of stuff I did. I just remembered a time when the old NYC rep left, and I added NYC to my existing 6 state territory. I was about a month into it and was not yet making money. I was still very much "California Wussified". Culture shock would be be putting it mildly.

So "Times Were Hard On The Blvd" as the old rap song says....I had debts to pay and it was 100 degrees in the shade...the subways maybe 110. I probably had sweat in inappropriate places..

Recently I had gotten a bit fat (hey I'm honest) and my new platform shoe from Nine West collapsed. I am convinced this is why. The shoes hurt to begin with which should have served as a warning.. but they were hot and cheap so I got them.

I had to spend all day walking around the city on my tippy toe, in this broken shoe, looking like I had survived polio. I just could not afford to buy new shoes.

Its a hard knock life...

Death Of A Stiletto Junkie

If you ever want a really good pedicure, go to a very upscale spa in your area. They are much cleaner than the usual cheesy nail place around the corner.

You know the place. A land where quick dry only costs a dollar and somehow you leave paying $70 dollars when you only intended to spend 10.

You gotta watch out for these people. Most speak no English and barely sanitize the cuticle cutters. Once my mother told me she saw someone folding the dirty wet towels used to wipe feet of and putting them back in the "hot towel cabbie". Lovely.

I too used to go to these places until I got the warts (on my feet). If you have ever gotten warts on your feet you know how painful they can be. I got 18 on one foot and 5 on the other. It was an infestation that took more than 6 months to resolve.

Now at the time I was in sales in NYC and had to look the part. Everyday I was wearing stiletto's and a suit to work. I just could not get through the day without my Isabella Fiore's. So in attempt to retain my hotness I chose to limp rather than wear sneakers. That was until I threw my knee out. I ended up on the couch for a week which sucked.

Unfortunately I have not been able to get back into my pumps, my knee just won't have it.

99 Vials Of Filler On The Wall

I once attended a trade show hosted by the Society Of Plastic Surgery Specialists. At this show I decided to sit in on a class with one of my physician clients. I witnessed a very well known NYC doctor (a Dermatologist actually) injecting a patient while drinking way to much vino. She was teaching the whole time she drank and the attending physicians just stared at her. Nobody said a thing.

Welcome to New York....

Indecent Proposal?

Whores what are they good for? Absolutely nothing.

The song plays in my head I can't help it.

This just in:
A rep I know of just got the boot from a laser company for sleeping with her prospects. That's just priceless.. no wonder that ho was making so much money.

Career change anyone?

The Free Lunch Junkies And The Medical Anomaly.

There is a trend within the pharmaceutical industry to buy physicians lunch on a regular basis. Actually not just the physician but the entire office! I knew someday I was going to run into a problem with this but who knew when. I had gotten good at telling those who asked that we did not provide lunch.

I hired an assistant to bring some information packets into the city to distribute them among viable prospects. What I didn't know was he had agreed to send me in on a "luncheon". Apparently he did not understand the terminology. So I confirm the appointment that he has set up for me and take off to meet with this physician on Park Ave.

As soon as I get there the female physician who looks like Coffee Cake from The Bronx Tale tells me where to put the lunch. Its this moment that I realize whats happening. They expect me to court them in this fashion.

Not happening. I don't do lunch.

So in a split second I have to make a decision. I take a quick look around and see all the products they have are tragic. They literally have little sample bowls filled with stuff like Neutrogena and Cetaphil. Do not use this stuff!

I come to the realization that they would never buy my product. In my brain I've already checked out, disconnected myself from the situation. I look the physician dead in the eye (OK I am lying. I am counting the craters on her face) and realize that she really has very bad skin for a Dermatologist (I seriously thought she was the receptionist because of this when I initially walked in). I tell her that we as a company do not provide lunch as we are not a pharmaceutical company.

She tells me that she does not let anyone present without it. I leave and never look back.

Somebody needs to ween them off the stuff...