I used to work at a car dealership as a saleswoman. Many of the guys with whom I worked were pretty sleazy. Some were not. One in particular made my stomach turn somersaults when I first met him. His name was Pedro. He was from Mexico. He was the fattest man on the sales staff. He was short and carried most of his weight in his middle. He had thick lips and thinned out greasy hair. His face was ugly.
But none of Pedro’s external features were the cause of my intense feelings of repulsion. There was something dark lurking inside of Pedro, but I had no idea what it was. My gut knew he had done something really terrible to someone.
When I first locked eyes with Pedro on his first day as a car salesman at our dealership I almost threw up. I had to run away from him to avoid puking. The feeling I got from him was just pure evil. Through months of working at the dealership I avoided Pedro like the plague. I was afraid to talk to him. I would eavesdrop on him occasionally because I wanted to understand why my gut got so freaked out when I got near him. I overheard him one day saying, “Oh the prostitutes in Mexico City are no good, their cunts are really drippy and their assholes taste bad.”
I started asking the other salesman about Pedro. They told me all of Pedro’s customers are Mexican. They also told me he has no repeat customers. I thought this was weird since a fairly high percentage of my customers are repeat buyers. I asked, “Why doesn’t he have repeat customers?” They answered, “Once his customers get home and do the numbers, they realize Pedro ripped them off. They never want to come back to him.”
I witnessed Pedro ripping off people several times. Here’s how he did it: when working a deal that involved a trade-in vehicle, he would receive a trade-in dollar amount from the used car manager. Let’s say this amount was $5000. Pedro would go back to his customers and tell them that their car was only worth $3000. He was very persuasive and would use all sorts of tactics to make his customers believe him. He usually could convince his customers of his numbers. It was only when the customers went home, looked at the numbers, did some research that they realized Pedro had ripped them off big time. Pedro did this in several areas so he managed to make a huge amount of extra profit from his deals.
I never reported any of this because my direct managers approved and condoned such tactics. All they cared about was profit and they were not concerned at all how this profit was made. At the top of the management chain there was a philosophy in place that did not approve of slippery, dishonest tactics, but the philosophy became more and more diluted the farther down the chain you went.
What does any of this have to do with a split penis?
One day Pedro was gone for several weeks. Then he was back for several days then he was gone again for many weeks. I asked one of the guys, Steve, what was going on with him. Steve said, “Oh yeah, his dick had to be sliced in two for some medical reason. He showed me the photos of his dick last week. He carries them around in his pocket and has shown them to almost all of us. It was pretty disgusting to see.”
My response to Steve was, “Karma’s a bitch.”
Pedro was fired. Several months later I saw Pedro back in the dealership selling off his top-of-the-line Highlander. I heard that his wife had taken off to Mexico with his money and he was currently liquidating all his assets. I know this is going to sound terrible, but suddenly my life didn’t feel so bad.