.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }
He was a kid, or no older than two decades, with blond, close cropped hair, baggy shorts. He was smoking a cigarette and drinking from an airplane sized bottle of tequila as I passed him around 10 am on the pedestrian bridge over the LA River in Studio City.
He said hello and I said hello back. He said he just came to LA that day and had never seen the LA River. He went on to tell me that he comes from Washington State and travels around the country with dozens of others, staying in local motels and then fanning out and selling magazine subscriptions.
These groups of young men will go from state to state, town to town, and knock on doors and ring bells and tell people that “we are raising money for your town’s soccer team”. Wouldn’t YOU like to buy a subscription to Sports Illustrated to support some needy local kids?
He said that what he does is lie, but that he actually fulfills the promise of subscribing the suckers. They get their magazines, but they buy them under false pretenses.
He was pretty proud of himself, and told me that he was the top salesman and that’s why he was here taking a minute to smoke a cigarette and drink alcohol mid-morning in Studio City. He said most people thought he was younger than his age (22) and his All-American looks got him lots of business.
He then threw his bottle into the river and said “so long” and he was off to find more business for his dishonest business.
