imkittymyers at hotmail dot com
Monday, June 27, 2005
I used to be a Fuller Brush salesperson for all of two weeks. I needed to bring in some badly needed money, but I didn't want to work outside the home because we had two severely asthmatic little kids at the time. So I found this door-to-door sales job in the classifieds. I was given a "district," which was right down the road from our home. Most of my customers were seniors living on pitiful fixed incomes. They must have felt badly for me because they bought stuff, which made me feel really crummy. So I gave them all really good bargains ... "Boy are you ever lucky! That mop is on sale!" ... and then I quit. I didn't need their money that badly.
POD-dyMouths pick-of-the-week: It is not Sex and the City and it is not BRIDGET JONES and there is no mention of YA-YAs and it is not like anything by Sophie Kinsella. Be thankful. It turns out young women can do simple things and be entertaining, and I found this novel to be a joy after being pounded to death week after week with 300 page slutfests with covers no more imaginative than a pair of legs, a short skirt and high heel strappies.