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Professional Sales
by James Freeze

There were no cell phones in the 1970s, but there was something called a voice pager. I being the professional sales person that I believed myself to be was one of the first to obtain this specialized communication system.

Also during the 70s my parents who live in another state would visit once or twice a year but instead of staying with me or my older sister they would rent a room at the Holiday Inn Coliseum.

I had been fortunate to set up an appointment with Conley Chevrolet, one of the largest automobile dealers in the state. The appointment was to demonstrate the Novus system, a method by which to repair Dings and cracks in windshields. This brand-new technology would allow automobile dealers to fix broken windshields rather than replacing them.

While I had begun to demonstrate this amazing new product, my sister was headed to the airport to make sure our parents were picked up on time and safely settled in at the motel.

The appointed time had begun, and I found myself standing in front of Mr. Conley, the owner, and fifteen of his employees. They had provided an automobile with a cracked windshield for me to use in a demonstration. I began telling the Novus story while placing the tripod over the damaged area. Things seem to be sailing right along and looking good for me. I was answering their questions quickly, and the performance was without glitches. Boy, am I a real pro I thought to myself.

And then, my voice pager went off, as the message heard loud and clear, by all encircled around me and spoken in a very sexy female voice. “Hi Jim, I’m at the Holiday Inn Coliseum, room 212, come on by as soon as you can, I can’t wait to see you again, okay sweetie – – – bye.”

At that point, I lost total perspective for what I was doing. I became uncomfortable, hot around my collar, and began to turn a nice toasty shade of red. As I looked up to see the smirks on everyone’s face, I proceeded to compound the situation by saying to the group,” That was my sister.”

They all grinned, nodding their heads up and down while saying almost in unison, “Sure that was your sister, we can believe that.”

After my stumble, the demonstration began to fail as the windshield problem was becoming worse than when I had started. I was told shortly after to check back with them when I felt more comfortable with the process. Now humbled, I packed up the demonstration equipment and thought to myself, "ain’t big sisters great.”