I remember, back in the summer of 1990 when Nick and I answered a newspaper ad stating, "DO YOU LIKE TO ROCK? COME WORK WITH HE MOST AWESOME PEOPLE AND MAKE up to $100/hr!!"

We get to the office in downtown Ft. Lauderdale, and it's all blinky lights, disco balls and loud, LOUD rock music. Some dude with long blonde hair and wearing a very crisp suit, jacked up on some kind of speed, pops out and says, "DUDES! IT'S TIME TO MAKE YOU RICH!"

What followed was a 2 day seminar on how to sell your shitty shit to people that didn't want your shit. Day 3 we were given cases filled with perfume knock-offs and were told to hit the streets. Literally. Nick and I decided to head down to Miami, Calle Ocho/Little Havana specifically, to peddle our wares. Not the wisest of moves.

We were not very good at the whole perfume vending thing. Imagine a fat and scruffy metalhead kid shambling up to you and saying something along the lines of, "hey lady, wanna smell pretty for cheap?"

After a week of this, together we had sold two bottles of perfume (that was $4 takehome, bitches!) We did receive several trade offers from various prostitutes, which we passed up. The next day, we called it quits and dumped the cases at the office.

The lesson? I am not a salesman.