When I was 16, I joined the Evening Moscow newspaper. Newspapers at the subway.
Payment is calculated depending on the number of sold books.

The point was new, so at the device I was told I would have to scream to find buyers.

I couldn’t scream, so on the first day I sold only two or three newspapers.
In addition, there were interesting, but expensive magazines in my office bag, which I was ashamed to offer.

Realizing that I would not earn money in this way, in the evening after work - I started training.
Remember “Little Hole”, where Jimmy screamed at night, dreaming of becoming a “Layer”?
Here I remembered.

All night I screamed in front of the mirror: “The Evening Moscow newspaper, the magazine “Expert”, the newspaper “Work and Wage”... Overall, I trained and developed confidence.
The parents turned their fingers at the whisker, but they did not interfere.

The next day, inspired by the imaginary success, I took the job.
Imagining myself, neither much nor little, the poor Jimmy from Little Oakland, I overcame the fear and began to scream, as I thought, in all my voice.

Five minutes later, police came to me.
I checked the documents and they were okay.
I bought the most expensive magazine.

It took me here.

I spoke in such a way that the passers stumbled at the exit of the crossing, and the grandmothers grabbed their hearts.
Oral to chrysot and accelerated heartbeat.
Oral, as if my life depends on it.
“The evening of Moscow, Expeyeyeyeerert, slave-oot and salary-aat!” spread throughout the district.

Strangely enough, it has brought fruit.
By the evening I sold almost all the newspapers, about half the magazines and a little souvenir products.

Satisfied with myself, I drove home and expected to earn even more the next day.

And then more.
and more.
I will become a millionaire.
I will buy the newspaper.
I will be a successful entrepreneur and my parents will be proud of me.

The next day I shook.
My attempts to shout out something sounded like this: “Ashshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshsherrrrrahaya sssyvvaaa” – such a whispering whisper that I could barely hear.

To my surprise, I sold half the newspapers and a few magazines.
It turns out, people who live nearby are convenient to buy newspapers and magazines on the way home.
They greeted, communicated, interested in sales and bought.

When I stopped crying, I started crying with less force, but the same intensity.
Buyers are getting more every day.
I was given a second bag, with wheels, so that I could take more press for replacement.

My business ended unexpectedly.

In the middle of the second month, when I had about a hundred regular clients, I was called by a coordinator.

“Vipman84, you’re doing a good job. Such valuable employees should not disappear, so we put you on a new point, and yours will be given to Ivanova. They don’t want to do it, but they want to earn it all. Don’t worry, you’ll find customers quickly, the boy is capable.”

"And so that your experience does not go in vain, this is Alexander, he will stand with you on the spot. You have to teach him everything to sell like you do. And while you are together, divide your pay by two.”

The next morning, the coordinator was long wondering why I decided so abruptly to quit.
But the decision was made, and a day later I already found a new one - a courier for the delivery of printed products.
Books are sold on the street.

But this is a completely different story.