Alec Baldwin Visits The Unemployment Office

(NOTE: If you haven’t seen the movie Glengarry Glen Ross this clip is required viewing. If you’ve seen the movie… then you know what I’m talking about.)

Let me have your attention for a moment, because I’m talking about what? Bitching about that sale I shot, those son of a bitches that didn’t want to buy land, somebody didn’t want to buy what I was selling, some broad I tried to screw… so forth. Well, let me talk about something important.

Hey buddy, PUT THAT COFFEE DOWN! You think I’m fucking with you? I am not fucking with you.

I’m here from downtown. I’m here because Mitch and Murray fired me. And I’m here to plead for your mercy. You think you don’t have to listen to me? You certainly don’t, but the bad news for me is, I got fired. And all I’ve got is just one week before I am going need some unemployment checks. Starting with tonight, starting right after this sit.

Oh, have I got your attention now? Good.

Let me tell you a little story. Last month, my previous employer, Mitch and Murray added a little something to the sales contest. First prize was a Cadillac Eldorado. Can you guess what second prize was? A set of steak knives. Third prize was a pink slip. You think I’m laughing now?

Mitch and Murray paid good money for the Glengarry leads. They got the names so I could sell them. I couldn’t close the leads, I couldn’t close shit, I was shit. They told me to, “hit the bricks, pal, and beat it, I was on my way out!” The leads were weak, I was weak. I was in the business for fifteen years, and for the longest time I was on top. King Fuck was my name because all the other salesmen drove Hyundais to work while I bought an $80,000 BMW. And without that job, the payments are really starting to pile up.

I couldn’t play in the man’s game, I couldn’t close the leads. I went home every night and told my wife my troubles. All she could tell me was the mortgage payments were past due.

Let me tell you something gentlemen, only one thing counts in life and that’s, “get them to sign on the line which is dotted!” I couldn’t do that. Now the only dotted line I’m hoping to sign is the big fat unemployment check you are about to give me.

Mitch and Murry told me to sell. I had the prospects coming in. Did they come in to get out of the rain? I wasn’t selling umbrellas, although in retrospect it might have been easier to sell umbrellas instead of real estate given the current state of the market. I had prospects just waiting to give me their money, but I wasn’t man enough to take it.

In the old days, I was such a hero. I was rich. I don’t know why I wasted my time with that bunch of bums I worked with. I had this great Rolex watch. It probably cost more than most of your cars. Where’s the watch now? It’s sitting at the pawn shop because I needed to pay the electric bill. Last year I made $970,000. Now how much do I make? Nothing. You see, that’s who I was and now I’m nothing.

Was I a nice guy? No, and I didn’t give a shit. Was I a good father? No, I was hardly ever home to play with my kids. Now without a job all my kids will have crooked teeth because I can’t afford to send them to the orthodontist.

You think I didn’t take abuse? I had Mitch and Murry breathing down my neck. I had sales prospects give me every single form of abuse on my sits. Did I like it? No. Did I quit? No. I stuck with it, I couldn’t make the sales and Mitch and Murray packed up my desk, had security escort me out of the building and told me to leave.

In the old days, I could take the leads, go out and make $15,000, in a single night! In two hours! But luck runs in streaks. I lost something. I lost the special touch. And where does that leave me now? I’m mad, you son of a bitches! I’m mad!

Do you know what it takes to sell real estate? It takes brass balls to sell real estate. So what did Mitch and Murray do? They emasculated me. They cut off my balls. I know I’ve only been unemployed for 48 hours, but the constant nagging from the wife at home is beginning to emasculate me as well… “go out and look for a job,” she says, or “stop watching Oprah, get off the couch and do something,” and “call the plumber, the upstairs toilet won’t stop leaking”.

Well, that’s why I came here today. Things are falling apart. My job, my life, my marriage, my house. I know the money’s here at the unemployment office, here for me to pick it up, it’s mine. I only ask that you please have a little sympathy for me. I came here tonight to “close you”. That unemployment check is mine because if you don’t give it to me I’m going to need to grab some shoe polish and start shining.

Now, if you could just write out that check… I have got to meet a few friends to meet at the bar to talk about the good ‘ole days, talk about how how I used to be a salesman, how it was a touch racket (gulp, gulp)…

So as I make my leave, hopefully with check in hand, I wish you all good luck. Unfortunately, I didn’t know what to do with good luck when I had it.

~ by Rand McTally on July 20, 2008.