Confessions of a Failed Timeshare Saleswoman

When my husband and I moved to Mexico I thought hawking timeshares would be an easy way to make money...but I wasn’t a good enough liar.

Illustrations by Kelsey Wroten

The midday sun blazed overhead, reflecting off of every surface. My makeup had melted off hours ago, and my deodorant also waved the white flag. My feet ached and burned on the scorching pavement, a sensation I had yet to grow accustomed to. My cell phone rang in my pocket. I didn’t need to check the caller ID. I felt my whole body tense as I pulled the phone out. I took a deep breath, exhaled, and answered.

“Bueno? Felipe?”

“You got any couples yet?” he asked, his voice thick with frustration. My stomach did a flip. I knew he wasn’t going to be happy with the answer.

“No, not yet. It’s dead here.”

Silence.

“You haven’t got any couples yet. You need to come in earlier and stay longer. No excuses. You want your kids to go hungry?” He wasn’t asking me a question. My head got even hotter, something I wouldn’t have thought possible just five minutes earlier.

“I’ll stay until five, but I have to get home to my kids,” I answered.

“You stay until you get a couple,” he …