Three months ago I couldn't get someone to sell me Tupperware to save my life. Now? Well to say that I am currently swimming in a vast sea of Tupperware would be an understatement. I feel sheepish, overwhelmed, excited, baffled and yet somehow content.
Basically, I feel like I've had an affair with Tupperware.
Some time ago I wrote about the relationship between sex and Tupperware after a co-worker quite famously proclaimed: "Tupperware is what you have when you're not having sex". And after having spent close to $800** on Tupperware in the last 2 months, I can safely say – yes. Yes it is.
And can I just say, that while my ability to please in the boudoir is potentially questionable, my ability to get excited and share a love of Tupperware is undeniable.
I could sell this shit. And I could sell it well.
My affair with Tupperware culminated in a recent trip to a Tupperware sales meeting with my lovely rep Elizabeth. Not only, did I somehow manage to walk away with even more free Tupperware – I got a tour of the factory and a taste of what the company is all about. Okay, so the world of the Tupperware dealer is pretty intense, but do you know what I like about it?
Anyone can do it.
Young, old, male, (although mostly) female, single, married, pierced, tattooed – anyone. All you need is the ability to be friendly and a passion for the product.
I really, really like that. And it is nowhere near as scary as Amway.
So is it the end of the affair? Hardly. Tupperware is the kind of lover that comes and goes, but always leaves you feeling content with a renewed vigour. You know, for portioning your meals and organising your fridge.
What can I say? I'm nesty. And a Tupperware catalog is my porn.
**It could be worse. It could be like that weekend I accidentally spent $400 on vibrators. Although frankly it's hard to know which products have been the most useful.