The summer after my freshman year of college, I became a saleswoman for Cutco cutlery. One day I was 19, broke and aimless, living at home and trying to earn beer money without working too hard. The next I was in a stale office, slowly grasping that the marketing position I'd seen advertised on a telephone pole actually involved selling parers, peelers, and steak knives out of my car. I probably should've seen it coming. A telephone pole isn't a job board. I took the gig anyway.
