_The product looked okay, and the salesman
was sharp ... dangerously sharp!_
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Infinity January 1958.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The little salesman buzzed into my hotel room exactly at 10. He must
have been waiting in the corridor, ambushing the second-hand.
I watched from my deep chair in the corner while he slid open his
raincoat, lifted it neatly off his back (the casual shrug wasn't his
style), and stood with it hanging from his forefinger. With a bright,
apologetic smile he hung it up in the alcove behind the door. I decided
not to object to his using the hook without asking; it'd just slow
things up.
The salesman smiled again, ducked out into the corridor and back in
with a flat 24x20 brief case and a large, oddly shaped suitcase. His
presentation charts and a mockup of the computer, obviously. More
apologetic faces, and he sat down.
He said, "It was _very_ good of you, Mr. Borch, to give me this chance
to tell you about our new, personalized Statistomat. I know you're a
busy man--"