It depends on which size Toyota

 


It depends on which size Toyota


    This one is typical of Greg making another one of the masses a sort of folk hero. We went together over to the Montgomery Ward store in the Gate when I was shopping for tires on my little Toyota Corolla. It was a warm and dry Southern California morning when folks just move around a little slowly in the bright sunshine. You feel for those who must work on Sundays but when we met the old salesman named John Lind we were in for a life's lesson. John had a sonorous and whiskey soaked voice that slowly pronounced the sales pitches in a stilted but serious tone. We both immediately saw a man who drank too much not only in his capillary rich nose but his frequent trips to the water cooler where he quenched a fire that had been built in the previous evenings tippling. We surmised that an older man who was forced to sell tires in a Montgomery Ward on a Sunday was not a success story but more of a guy hanging on through his experience in sales. He still was selling despite the probable hangover that was causing his thirst and some sweat dampening his forehead. He wore a short-sleeved white shirt and a loose fitting tie but when it came to details he was ready to talk tires. What drew us there was the preliminary phone call. "That depends upon which size Toy-ota?" he  began when I asked him about new tires. He also let us know that it was "vurrry busy" and it would be best to come in and "ask for John...won't you" We did just that. Later, we imitated the man and even called on the phone again and recorded his remarkable voice. Not satisfied we had my sister in law call just to get more dose of John. I am sure with his red face and ample belly he was not going to be selling Firestones for much longer but he is immortalized on a casette somewhere in my archives. Looking back he is just an example of the millions who battle on and try to survive with demons whispering in their ears. No doubt when John finished his shift at Montgomery Ward he repaired to a tavern like the Red Spot or Sandells to forget his troubles and let the sweat dry in the 1979 air conditioning.






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