“You’re going to be a rockstar Eric. It might be hard to see it now, but you’ll see” .
These words fell on eager ears that were a tad wet on the backsides. I remember taking this 100% commissioned job with two close friends in 2011 and thinking how lucky I was.
That was week one.
Week seven came and saw my resignation. I made my first big sale and not an ounce of excitement coursed through my veins. I knew then it wasn’t the career for me.
I think about this brief period of my life every few weeks as I work through my dress shirt rotation. Mainly a cluster of $35 mail-ordered shirts to fit my counterfeit condor arms and speak to my frugal mindset.
One shirt sits alone in the collection. A perfectly pressed grey dress shirt, because it can only be dry cleaned. A tailor-made reminder of my rock star past. You see my old boss told me to fake it till I make it, and to dress the part. So I did just that.
I visited a high end men’s fashion store that I thought could benefit from the advertising I was selling. I had a vague connection with the owner’s son and thought I would buy a shirt and ask for a meeting. The classic, “You put a shirt on my back, I’ll scratch your back” scenario.
Wasn’t I pleased to find that none of the shirts had price tags on them. Also, they didn’t carry 37″ sleeves because it turns out there isn’t much of a market for it. I approached the cash register with trepidation. Luckily I knew the owner’s son so I received a 10% discount.
I didn’t notice the 17 dollar savings when they mentioned the total price. I did notice a crack developing in my steely-eyed poker face, followed by a swallowing of a baby frog.
I ponied up for the shirt and showed up to work on Monday wearing my own stupidity. My boss figures this would be the time to inform me that the industry standard is white or blue and no pockets. “Are you trying to protect your pens or something?” He laughed as he pointed to my chest pocket.
I didn’t even bother to crack a courtesy smile.
I never received the commission on the one large sale I made but I was paid in life lessons twice over.
Fake it till you make it can be effective. But it wasn’t me. At the end of the day I just felt fake. Now I have two mental directions I can take every time I put that shirt on. I can tell myself I was such a fool or I can smile and acknowledge that life lessons come in many forms.
Photo credit: Minhimalism
