Game Changer.

The office rang and told me this fella was a high roller. Game changer. Had what it takes and just needed some guidance and direction and he’d be smashing it in no time at all. He was waiting in Kildare and all I had to do was call up and give him the gear. Better still, he had a full licence and didn’t need any lifts around the place. A fully independent weapon of mass sales destruction. Sure isn’t this great news? A simple drop off with the stuff and no complicated training or charity Uber work.

            There. He was waiting in a rundown estate. Under a tree. Staying out of the rain. Probably saving his energy for the big burst ahead. I pulled up and he looked nervous, like I was some kind of weirdo, then he seemed to remember he was expecting someone. I got out, we shook hands, asked him had he Sales experience. He hesitated, said: ‘Yeah.’

            ‘What did you work at?’


            ‘What, like a stockbroker?’

            ‘Kinda, yeah.’

            ‘Where? Dublin?’

            ‘No. Here.’


            ‘In Kildare.’

            ‘Oh, were you long at it?’

            ‘Few years.’

            ‘What did you sell?’


            ‘What kind?’

            ‘Sports related.’

            ‘You’re not much of a man for giving straight answers?’

            ‘It was for the local football club…’

            ‘Selling shares?’

            ‘No. Lotto tickets, around the pubs like. I was good at it too.’

            ‘Right. Is that what you told them at the office?’

            ‘Just outlined my experience….’

            ‘Grand….where’s your car?’

            ‘My car?’

            ‘Yeah, you said you had a licence and your own transport.’

            ‘Oh, I do…do I need it?’

            ‘Yeah, how else are you goin to travel around the country doin sales?’

            ‘They said you’d bring me some days.’

            ‘I bet they fuckin did. Anyway, today you’ll need your wagon. Where is it?’

            He looked around, squinted through the drizzle, like someone judging a mirage in the distance, said: ‘It’s over there.’


            ‘Around that corner.’

            ‘Why’d you park it there?’


            ‘Right, go get it.’

            ‘Get it?’



            ‘Why not?’

            He took out his phone, looked at it, put it back in his pocket. Looked behind him, then back into the distance, said: ‘Ok….’

            He was a bout 15 minutes gone while I waited in the car, sending shite talk gifs to pass the time. Eventually I went looking for him. It took a while but I finally found him under another tree, squatted down, on his phone, scrolling through social media. He got a fright when he saw me, stood up, said: ‘Howya….’

            ‘Where’s the car?’

            ‘My oul lady needs it.’

            ‘Do you even have a car?’

            ‘I do yeah.’


            ‘Well, it’s mostly hers…’

            ‘You’re using your mother’s car?’


            ‘And you’re sure you have a licence?’


            ‘You don’t sound sure?’

            ‘It’s a provisional…just waiting on my test.’

            ‘So you can’t do the job at all?’

            ‘I can, I can…’

            ‘No experience? No car? No licence?’

            ‘But they told me at the office I could be a high roller.’

            ‘I bet they fuckin did. Here’s your stuff.’

            ‘What’s that?’

            ‘Jacket. Tablet. Badge. Off ya go.’

            ‘Can I not come with you?’

            ‘Not today.’

            Great day in Kildare. Time to high roll it home. Call it off ta fuck. The office rang for an update on the way, asked me how the new great hope was doing. Mighty, I said. Best in a long time. No need for me to see him again at all. He’ll do mighty on his own. Game changer.

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