ketchup-hot-dog-man-238x300 I’ve been gone for a while, and I’m shocked how many people (thanks mom) thought I got locked up. I’ve actually spent the last three months selling cars, and if I had it to do it over again, I think I would have rather served 90 days in Rappahannock Regional.

In case you’ve ever considered selling cars as a career, let me stop you right there. The jobs sucks a giant wiener, and I’m talking a John Holmes meets Mandingo sized sausage here.

You’re going to work an insane amount of hours, and at least in my dealership, the atmosphere was part sports team, part cult and completely toxic.

Management swung from crazy motivational sermons to BDSM-style beat-downs where under-performing salesmen were publicly humiliated and basically told if they didn’t square their shit away, they were going to get fired.

And when I say publicly humiliated, I mean just that. Never in my adult life have I witnessed a sober man scream at another sober man, but it happened there on a weekly if not daily basis, and it was never behind closed doors.

On the plus side, if you sell a lot of cars, you can basically do anything else without getting fired. A crazy former Marine who works there actually drove a goddamned mini-van right through the side of the building and as far as I know, he didn’t get so much as a warning.

I, on the other hand, am probably going to get fired today because it seems drilling a joke glory hole in the stall of a men’s room is where management draws the line.