COLUMBIA, MO – What was intended as a typical handbook presentation went horribly awry Saturday evening as area dealer Todd Coleman, a sophomore at Ball State, could do little more than stand by and watch himself destroy his chances of a sale with 38-year-old mother of three Rachel Fallowe.
Coleman told reporters that the presentation at Fallowe’s house began pleasantly and without incident. The two enjoyed some casual rapport building right up until he invited the high schooler to join the conversation, at which point disaster struck, and an unsuspecting Coleman discovered he was powerless to stop himself from babbling on like an idiot about a recent Sunday meeting when his org went to a local bowling alley.
“It was awful,” Coleman said of the presentation, his first in four hours. “One minute we were chatting about the schools, and the next I was sitting there in disbelief, hearing myself ramble for what seemed like an eternity about how I’d been recruited by a survey in my art history class and how my manager was in Nashville, and this was Dad’s Week and I’m selling for him too, but not working for him, just dedicating all my book sales to him.”
“Ugh, the confused look on her face,” added Coleman, shaking his head. “It still haunts me.”
The minute he realized what was happening, Coleman leapt into action, attempting to rescue the sale with an amusing executive exercise, but only worsening the situation by asking the high-school student to see his funky chicken. After stepping on the dog’s tail he asked Mrs. Fallowe where she was from once again, realizing immediately that she had just answered that same question minutes before.
Pausing to collect his thoughts for one last resilient attempt, Coleman said he began talking about his roommate, and found himself unable to talk about anything more than how he’s been a good shoulder to cry on after a long hard day of rejection, and it was really refusal and not rejection, but it still hurts.
“There was this loud, awkward noise, and then I realized it was my own rambling,” Coleman said. “I remember looking around their kitchen thinking, ‘Please God, just let me get through this demo’ Then I just sort of blacked out for a few minutes, and the last thing I remember before that was hearing myself talk about Mort Utley.”
“At one point, Mrs. Fallowe got up to answer the phone, and I thought that maybe it would be an important call and this would all be over soon,” Coleman continued.
When the unthinkable happened and Followe returned, Coleman gave up his remaining composure and began sweating through his cargo khakis while talking about how someone comes by this area selling books nearly every summer.
“It was 20 minutes of pure torture,” Coleman said. “The kids couldn’t even look me in the eye as I was leaving. They felt it too. I wish they had never answered the door,” Coleman added. “Now I just have to hope that bad PR doesn’t start spreading.”
At press time, Coleman was approaching his last family of the day, explaining that the books are updated nearly every year.