The Furniture Salesman Experience

  I had an uncle once who was born with three legs.  He wanted to be a dancer, but he had three left feet.  Tragically, he got into a car accident and became a quintriplegic (Disclaimer: the preceding anecdote is a complete fabrication for entertainment purposes only!  No three-legged thespian uncles were harmed in the making of that joke.  My sincerest apologies for my insensitivity to any demographic comprised of quintriplegic ex-ballerinas).  Speaking of feet, do you think bats and chimps get Tarsal Tunnel Syndrome?
  Anyway, I wanted to talk about my time as a furniture salesman.  If you're a furniture salesman you might have to drag couches around and get good triceps (unless you're me.  I've got try-harder-ceps and try-again-ceps!).  You might not know what a finial is and sound like a complete dumbass.  You might have to assemble many a dining room set.  You might sell that ugly ass headboard with the horses carved into it because you talk a little girl in a cowgirl outfit into making her mom buy it for her.  You might also sell that ridiculous looking stained-glass night stand because you convince some guy that it goes well with a stained-glass lampshade as a set.  Boy, I was a mean furniture salesman!