I once worked for a company that owned several cemeteries and funeral homes as a salesperson. It was a terrible enough job in general, as nobody wants to be reminded of their mortality, so trying to sell funeral packages and cemetery plots is depressing and really, really difficult. The absolute worst – and my breaking point – though, came on Memorial Day. That day, families come to the cemetery to honour their deceased relatives by decorating the graves, bringing gifts, and mourning in somber reflection. Many have recently lost their spouse, parent, or child, and are in severe pain.
The company held an open house with refreshments, ostensibly to support the grieving families. But that wasn't the point, of course. The point was to sell more product. So get your ass out there and sell, sell, sell! Mingle and sell! Give them your shoulder to cry on, but don't forget to sell! Get those plots moved, people! Has anyone hit up the couple at plot 102 yet? Quotas!!
I fucking hid for most of the day then quit. And I think I showered 50 times the following week trying to cleanse my soul. You couldn't pay me enough to do that again.