One O’Clock Saturday. This is it, the time is now. I have been dreading this moment for a long time but there is no way to hide from it today. I am following my son and his Mother up to the door and it is locked. Shocked I think someone has erred in their timing. This can’t be, the United States Marine Corp would be far more circumspect in their dealings than this. Though I can’t see through the glare, I hear the door being unlocked from the inside. Ahh, I think looking at my watch, the Marines are not late, they were inside waiting for us, the low grade dread I have been feeling now blossoms, building within a furious readiness to face the battle about to come. It will be the Marines versus Me, who can sell better? The winner gets my son. You can understand my intense determination to win.
Reaching his hand out in respect is Sargent Day. He is the recruiter sending my son into harms way. My handshake has the feel of a prize fighter touching gloves. Now I go pro. Laughing jocularly I take control of the room, joking with the men inside, all recruiters, all trained killing machines and worse, these are the Marines prized sales people. Turns out they have been drilling on how to recruit (sell the Marines) more effectively. They drill regularly. It’s ok. I drill regularly too, and I have been doing it longer than these boys have been alive. My goal in this moment is to learn their sales skills. If I know their training ground, I know how to deal with them. I will know their skills, their thinking, their closes and their response mechanisms. So I joke with them and slide questions in. One has been taking the brunt of the criticism from a recent role play, their training, something the Marines put together. I don’t know what the Marines teach. Dang. Point goes to the Marines. I am OK though. I will still know what he is doing.
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