One fine afternoon, I was walking along Fifth Avenue when I remembered I needed to buy a pair of socks. I turned into the first sock shop that caught my eye. A young clerk, no more than seventeen, approached.
"What can I do for you, sir?"
"I wish to buy a pair of socks."
His eyes lit up, and his voice carried a note of passion. "Did you know you've come to the finest place in the world to buy socks?" I hadn't, as my entrance was accidental. "Come with me," he said ecstatically.
I followed him to the rear of the shop. He began pulling down box after box from the shelves, displaying their contents for my delight.
"Hold on, lad, I'm only going to buy one pair!"
"I know," he replied, "but I want you to see how marvelously beautiful these are. Aren't they wonderful?" His face wore an expression of solemn, holy rapture, as if revealing the mysteries of his faith.
I became far more interested in him than in the socks. I looked at him in amazement. "My friend," I said, "if you can keep this up—if this isn't just the enthusiasm of a new job—if you can maintain this zeal day after day, in ten years you will own every sock in the United States."
My astonishment at his pride and joy in salesmanship will be easily understood. In many shops, customers wait to be served. When a clerk finally deigns to notice you, you feel like an interruption. He is either absorbed in thought or chatting with a colleague, making you feel intrusive.
He shows no interest in you or the goods he sells. Yet that same apathetic clerk likely began his career with hope and enthusiasm. The daily grind wore him down; the novelty faded. He found pleasure only outside work, becoming a mechanical, uninspired salesman. This led to incompetence. Seeing younger, more zealous colleagues promoted over him, he grew sour—his usefulness over.
I have observed this melancholy decline in many occupations and concluded that the surest road to failure is to do things mechanically. Many teachers seem duller than their dullest pupils, going through the motions as impersonally as a telephone.