It’s not about looking back in life. It’s about looking forward. If it was about looking back though I would look back to a time when I was a young man. I was in the clothing business in those days. Ah, the clothing business. Those garmentos make you web guys look like the pussies you all are. Just get users? They wouldn’t even know what the fuck a user is. They get customers and they all survive quarter to quarter. VC’s are you fucking kidding? Factors baby. That’s a nice word for a loan shark. VC’s have no consequences if you lose their money. These were Glengarry guys. Real fucking men. ABC. The company I worked for was the third or fourth largest young mens company in the world behind Levi’s and Bugle Boy I believe. Anyway, the place was insane. I was hired in their sales training program, which meant I was essentially shit on by everybody. This lasted about a month before I went in to tell the Sales Manager “Irv” I was leaving. Irv was wild. Mid forties I guess, longish gray hair, always in a blue suit, stainless Rolex, hot shiksha model wife, and an apt. on Fifth Ave. The whole deal. This fucking nut was pulling down like a million a year as a sales manger garmento. He also managed about $300,000,000 a year in sales. So I walk in and I say “Irv this is bullshit and I’m fucking done. I’m not gonna take shit from these fat fucks anymore.” Even then I goofed on the fat guys, they hate it, but I didn’t care Irv was lean like me. Irv is not impressed as he screams in no particular direction “Oh really? And why the fuck not kid? Why the fuck not? What makes you think you can fucking sell? Huh? What the fuck makes you think you can sell?” “Because I close.” I said calmly. So Irv decides that he’s gonna call the bluff and tells me that at 4PM that day JC Penney is coming by to see the Spring line and he wants me to present it. “See you at 4 Irving.” I say as I leave his office.

So 4:00 comes and I go into the showroom. Irving, myself, and a male and female JC Penney rep. Irving introduces me and I proceed to show them some of the most disgusting polyester shit you have ever seen in your life. Patterned brown polyester suits with waist coats. You know like waiter coats. Except ours were brown and double breasted so you had the added fashion element of 36 buttons. My pitch would have made Willie Loman cry. “This is a very European look. It’s very fashion forward.” I said with a straight face. “I wore this number myself just the other night to a club opening and it was great. The fabric really reacts well to the natural flow of your body while dancing. The fabric really breathes well.” At that point Irv who was behind them almost wet his pants because we both knew that this crap was essentially made out of colored and patterned thick ©Saran-Wrap. It’s plastic for chrissakes. The clothing tags should have had a parental warning on them not to leave the clothing around kids. Little Timmy suffocates in daddy’s brown polyester waistcoat wouldn’t be good for sales I suppose. I go through the line and I know I got them, and I did. They bought. A lot, many millions of dollars in fact.

Irv promoted me and I became a specialty salesman. I was ripped in those days and I was perfect sample size. 6ft, 32 waist, 34inseam, 44 jacket, 9.5 shoe. I had it going on as they say these days. It was great. We sold the monster accounts as a team for awhile. I would model this nonsense and throw in dopey adjectives while Irv pounded the per store unit sales. During lunch I would bang Irv’s secretary up on the 14th floor storage area. I eventually did quit though, I had an opportunity in California that I took. That’s a story for another day, and like I said this is about predicting the future not reminiscing about the past.

Here are my 2010 predictions.
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