reselling bat excelsior

It was another foul weekend at the 'Svengali Home for Abused Reality Consultants.'

Jerry Spritzer, a recent addition to the home, considered his glass of lemonade as he sat on the home's spacious veranda. He was getting soaked but this did not bother him. He was thinking 'deep thoughts.'

It was the sales force meetings that had eventually gotten to him. He regretted many things but most of all he regretted turning those young fresh-faced, idealistic sales people into tense, screwed-up, razor sharp sales sharks.

It hadn't always been like this.

Once, long ago, before his employers had realized the difference between a happy employee and a productive employee, he would have been hired to help those lost souls relax.

He used to teach breathing exercises that lowered stress.

Recently he'd been teaching people how to increase their daily stress.

He'd toughened so many skins on those young sales people that they'd need several expensive therapists to get back to humanity.

Jerry admired his lemonade in the rain. Consoled himself with a continuous loop of words his Dad had taught him: "You gotta be twisted like a corkscrew to fit this corkscrew world, son."

Jerry Smiled, his Dad would be proud.