The Numbers

Chrysler has already been bought by Fiat and many dealerships were forced to shut down in the process. Now, in the aftermath of the storm, our numbers are slowly building back upward. Managment is pleased.

We had to hire new employees to handle all of the new customers who would have normally gone to the other dealerships that have closed down. Many of their former staff were also at my desk, borrowing pens, filling out applications, waiting, waiting to speak to anybody who might hire them.

A few of them were taken in. Those who weren't just moved on to apply at the next dealership. They'll find a job. That is the nature of sales. It is migratory. Salespeople are like basketball cards, collected and traded by dealerships.

Margaret passes by my desk. "Have you read any good books lately?" she asks in her shattered glass voice. "Not in the past six weeks," I tell her, "but I'll probably be reading more now that I am finished my work for the City." She smiles, lips clenched together and walks toward the sales tower. She is always asking me for books to recommend for her son.

Marcos is sitting quitely his office with his hand over is mouth. His eyes are looking in my direction, but they look through me, as if he is deep in thought. He rises from his desk and walks outside to scan the lot. His grey hair shimmers in the morning light. He spots a customer by the yellow Ram 1500 and moves in to greet him. I wonder what he was thinking about. I should have asked him. He probably would have responed, "selling cars," whether he meant it or not.