style="font-size:15px;"> “Yeah, it’s a good deal all right. Too bad I’m not taking it.”
Hans hit the brakes, the van stopped suddenly and we were both thrown forward. “Pardon me,” he said incredulously. A horn bellowed from behind.
“Hans,” I said, “you better start moving, you’re holding up traffic.” Instead he pulled over to the side of the road.
“You’re kidding me, man. Nobody turns down an offer like that.”
“I do.”
Hans sat in his seat, his jaw hanging loosely. He was a big German man. He’d come over with his family when he was a child, so he didn’t have much of an accent, but whenever he got mad or emotional he reverted to his Teutonic roots. “You’re a dummkopf,” he said. “Why? It don’t make any sense.”
“I’ve got a plan, and working for McInley & McDougall isn’t in it.”
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
“Well, my dream is to become wealthy, and my plan for achieving that is to work for myself. Nobody gets rich working for somebody else. I might make a decent living working for McInley & McDougall, but I’m shooting for more than just decent.”
“But what are you going to do, exactly?”
“I’m not quite sure. I’m still figuring it out. I’m looking at a few things – the types of careers where you can work for yourself and make a lot of money.”
“And what are those?” Hans asked.
“The three that I’m exploring are real estate, securities, and insurance. You can certainly do well in the first two, but there’s a problem with them. They’re cyclical. When a depression or recession hits, real estate and securities suffer. But insurance is different. You still need insurance when the economy goes through a downturn.”
“Yeah, but who’s gonna buy insurance then? Nobody’s got money when a depression hits.” Hans said.
“Truth is, during a depression, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. And I plan to sell to the rich, anyway.”
My plan was a long-term one, and although the decision I made meant I suffered in the short term, I knew it was the right thing to do for my future.
After a few months of selling paint, I went out and bought a car. It wasn’t the Thunderbird I wanted. It was a large, garish green two-door Buick with a faulty exhaust system, but it would get me around at least. When I phoned to get car insurance, I also inquired about purchasing life insurance. That led to a meeting with an agent from the New York Life Insurance Company, which in turn led to a phone call from Huss Breithaupt, the sales manager. I learned later that Huss was on a recruiting campaign and was scouring the recent insurance applicants for anybody who had anything to do with sales. With “paint salesman” written on the occupation line of my application I was a sitting duck.
As I had explained to Hans, I was already looking at the insurance business as a possible career move, so the timing of Huss’s phone call couldn’t have been better. I was impressed with his demeanor over the phone, he was very proper and courteous – not at all the stereotypical salesman. Plus, he explained that my income in the insurance business would be unlimited, and that put me over the edge. He wanted to meet me for lunch the next week, and I asked him if we could make it tomorrow – I didn’t want to wait another day to get started on my new life. Huss agreed, and we met for lunch at a restaurant downtown.
When I walked in I saw a trim, dapper fellow seated by himself. I walked over to make sure it was Huss, and introduced myself.
“Cowper,” he said, sounding out my name, “that would make you Scottish?”
“And Breithaupt,” I replied, “now that’s German.”
“No, it’s Austrian,” he replied uppishly.
Back then, the Second World War was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and I replied, “Oh, yes, that’s right, in 1945 they all became Austrians.”
Huss laughed and the ice was broken. We continued to discuss what a career in the insurance business might be like for me. Huss painted a rather pleasant picture of me working for myself, setting my own hours, seeing clients of my choosing. At one point Huss said, “My top salesman at the moment only works two days a week and takes two months off in the summer… I can only imagine how much he’d make if he worked full time.”
“I’ll show you. Someday I’ll be your number-one salesman and I plan on working a full week.”
Huss smiled, “I look forward to it, David.”
Huss escorted me back to his office across the street, asked me to write an aptitude test and to call him the following evening for the results.
I called the next night, discovered I had passed and was invited back for another interview. Up till now things had been easy, but a serious snag lay waiting for me in the interview.
“David,” Huss said, “I need you to write down a list of 100 people.”
“People?” I asked confused. “Just a list of people? Anybody?”
“Well, people you know – personally, of course. You know, a list of people you could easily approach to sell insurance to.”
I must have gulped visibly.
“You can do that, David,” Huss said, “can’t you?”
“Sure, absolutely, of course. Who couldn’t?”
“Well, you’d be surprised, some people don’t get out much, David. I’ve had some recruits who couldn’t give me more than a dozen names.”
“I promise you a hundred names, Huss.”
“Great, David, bring them in tomorrow and we’ll get started.”
“Huss, what’s the arrangement? As far as base salary goes?” I asked.
“Well, technically, there is no base, David.”
“I see,” I said, wincing.
“You do get a hundred dollar draw against future earnings, though, and a hundred dollar training allowance every month.”
“Thanks,” I said, relieved. “And that starts… when?”
“As soon as you bring those hundred names, David.”
“Right.”
I left his office and went home, meditating on my little problem. One hundred names. I hadn’t been in the country long, and knew few people in Toronto on a personal basis. I grabbed a pencil and pad of paper and started with the few people I knew from my paint selling days, then I began listing all the names of everyone I knew who had emigrated to Canada from my hometown Edinburgh. After a half hour or so of scouring my memory I came up with one hundred names – that was the easy part. Yes, I could, in theory ask them to buy insurance, if I knew where I could find them; but thankfully Huss hadn’t asked if I knew where they were.
I
