Fat Sales Asshole

Pity, fear and revulsion are strange feelings to have simultaneously but they occur together in various proportions when you meet a genuine, dyed-in-the-wool sales asshole.

It's easy to meet one, for they're very congenial people.  They'll walk across a room to shake your hand and to talk to you.  They smile well and have an easy demeanor.  But as your initial conversation proceeds past the standard greetings and small talk they cannot help but to reveal the personality that lurks behind that deceptive smile.  They're generally loud people and this is by design.  They hope that the volume of their voices will shout down the internal warning mechanisms that most people have when confronted with a talking pile of shit.  It doesn't take long for most people to figure out what they're dealing with and scurry for cover. 

The phoney enthusiasm, the overt friendliness, the nice shoes and stylish clothes, all donned in an attempt to conceal their true nature.

I've always wanted to look one right in the eyes and say something to the point like, "You're shit".  But I can't get myself to do it.  In my day they were tarred and feathered, or if the weather permitted they were hanged.  Even a preacher would give them a damned good beating.  This was how we protected ourselves and society from their ilk.  They've always been among us but we just kept them down for the benefit of all.  But times have changed and now they're protected by law.  Today they're the norm, they're the heroes.  They live in big houses instead of in the backs of wagons.  If you punch one you will be the one to go to jail!   They run the economy and the country.  They've become merchant kings.

Life out of balance the Hopis would say.  It follows I suppose that some states have placed crows on the protected list, too.  Figure that one out.