Selling Storefronts

Old Li was a salesperson at an advertising agency. His leather shoes gleamed, though their soles had come loose, and each morning he squeezed onto the subway to begin another day of pitching. He squatted by the curb, chewing on a cold steamed bun to stave off hunger, while clients called him a "rotten salesman" and tossed his contract onto the coffee table. Late at night, he counted the streetlights on his way home: 15, one for each rejection he had faced that day. During a torrential downpour, he rushed into a bank for shelter, but the lobby manager handed him a warm towel. "The president says your proposal is very professional." It turned out that the visit he had been turned away from three months earlier had become the turning point of today.