Becoming Ann Coulter – or how I took a job as a textbook sales rep in the bay area

I never knew what a down to earth, pro-business person I was until I went “into the field” as a social sciences sales rep for a major publishing company. How did a former English major, east coast liberal find herself in such a position, you might ask? Well, after a brief (and disappointing) stint in trade publishing (and an even more disappointing stint in grad school), I hitched my wagon to the textbook publishing star, starting off as an editorial assistant in New York, then quickly moving into a sales rep job on the West Coast. This is standard procedure for textbooks. If you have any hopes of being an editor, you must put in your time in the field. As I was nearing 25 and was without a real career, I decided to throw my hat into the ring and take my lumps like a woman. Little did I know that the bay area is a veritable war zone for anyone with “sales” in their title.

Now, for those of you unfamiliar with the game, let me briefly explain. As a textbook rep, you must grow your base by a certain percentage each year. If you don’t, you get no bonus. And salaries for this type of position being quite low, you are in grave danger of not eating should you fail to make bonus. Your job as a rep is two-fold: maintain current business (that other reps are trying to poach) and poach new business (from other reps trying to maintain it). Sounds slightly icky, I know. So far from the liberal ideals garnered in us throughout our years in college. You would think this would be the toughest part, but it turns out that the other reps, possibly due to the alienation they feel from faculty, are downright kind to one another. In fact, I was grateful to dine with my “competition” during several long and disheartening trips on the road.

One horrifying (and in hindsight, hilarious) episode during my life as a sales rep illustrates the “us versus them” mentality that I struggled with. It was my first semester, and I was patiently optimistic, despite having several doors slammed in my face only a few days into the job. I was feeling sassy (if a bit unlike myself) in a brand new suit and a pair of real grown up “lady” shoes. I knocked softly on the door of a sociology Professor that I had yet to meet, but that used my company’s textbook. His class was huge, and represented over 80,000 dollars in revenue for my territory.

“Come.” was the muffled response from the other end of the door. As I shyly poked my head into the room, I was greeted by said Professor (decked out in a giant bowtie, horn rimmed glasses and freshly pressed khakis) along with a slew of young faces. Twenty of his students were packed into his tiny office, staring at me quizzically. All of the sudden, my suit seemed a horror show.

“Sorry.” I bumbled. “I’ll come back another time…”

“No,” he said decisively, “what do you want?”

The bowtie…..the students…..I was wary, but I soldiered on. Recalling my rehearsed speech, I began: “Hi! My name is Kathleen Cowan and I’m your new sales rep. I just wanted to stop by…..”

“Oh!” he cried. “You are from that company that hates gay people!”

I was stunned. “I’m sorry. What-“

He continued: “I just got an email about this today. And I’m heading up a boycott of all your products on this campus. I’m dropping your book and urging others to do so as well at the academic senate meeting next week.”

“Um…” I stammered. “…can you tell me a little about what the problem is….”

He cut me off with a disgusted snort. “You mean you don’t know about this?!”

My face was frozen in a nervous smile. I was way out of my depth. Endless hours spent debating postcolonial diaspora in the works of Salman Rushdie had not prepared me. “I’m sorry, but maybe we could talk about this one on one….”

“I don’t think so.” He cut in. “These kids are the future leaders of this country! They need to hear this.” His voice took on a decidedly Professorial tone. “People like you…people who choose to represent companies such as this…you have no idea the harm you do to the gay community. It is shameful that a well respected textbook company such as yours is willing to characterize marriage as a ‘union between a man and woman.’” (I learned later that my company had used this language in a photo caption within a health textbook in order to secure a billion dollar deal with the Texas board of Ed.). You people have no idea what it is like to be gay in this culture, or what we face…..”

It was in that moment that my thin veil of professionalism melted away.

“Dude!” I blurted out. “I’M GAY!”

I don’t know if it was the “dude” part, or the “I’m gay” part, but he finally fell silent.. His students tittered nervously (and I swear one girl winked at me, it was SF state after all). He muttered something about gay people working for all kinds of bad companies, and I fled.

Needless to say, I lost the business, and my year (and bonus) were screwed because of it. I continued to wrestle with this boycott for some time. I received the “doesn’t your company hate gay people?” response/question several times that semester, in addition to some more original perspectives. One Professor, whose expertise was in the anthropology of Native American female war songs, brought me to tears by trapping me in her office and reading off gay suicide statistics. A critical thinking Professor told me proudly: “I signed a petition against your company this morning. I didn’t really read what it was about, but something about gay people….”

With the help of hindsight (and a new job where I am not alienated by my own community), I can appreciate that these people’s hearts were in the right place. The “boycott” was small and really only affected me (in fact, it was only really taken up by a handful of very vocal professors in the bay area). Regardless, my company didn’t handle it well, and it was one of the reasons I left the industry.

As horror sales stories goes though, I am rather proud of this one.