Is it me or are reps getting younger? They all seem to be post-grads now, in designer clothes, gelled-up hair, open necks, mobiles that continually beep, coloured string around their wrists, computer print-outs and expectations, of me, which seem to fire up a bad attitude, in them, when I fail to live up to those expectations.

There was a time, when - almost to the hour - month after month, a particular rep would come in, and if I was busy, make us both a cup of tea. They'd even make tea for my customer. Then they'd patiently wait, in the chair at the other side of my desk, trying to read, upside down, their competitor's latest newsletter that sat on my desk-top.

They had skills, the old reps, and standards and they knew me, in fact we knew the same people. They were smart, wore shirts and ties and slightly threadbare suits with the trousers all creased at the front from sitting in the car so long.

They were my age, with silver coloured hair and practised smiles. They were merry duckers-and-divers with creases in their eye-corners. They had bonhomie and old battered brown leather bags, stuffed full of pamphlets, and nicotine stains on the inside of their fingers. Our conversation focused on how badly my competitor was doing and how said competitor had brought it all on himself by switching to the rep's competitor's products - then they'd tell me what I needed to order. 

I had one young ferret call on me last week, he turned up mid-afternoon for his morning appointment and began his pitch by threatening to close my account because I wasn't selling enough. According to his records I hadn't changed over to his new, white, models. He flashed a statistic at me to prove that consumers were demanding white while all my displays were in brown. He'd missed the fact that my display appliances were, actually, now the gunmetal-green that his competitor's statistics proved was the colour for 2009 - I was ahead of the game, he was way behind the fact that I'd sold off his stuff two months ago!

He told me that I had to renew everything and...hang on...hang on...in he comes, he shuffles around near me when I'm trying to close a sale, opening drawers and banging wall unit doors, staring meaningfully at his watch and giving out the impression that my customer was making me late for his appointment...

I excused myself to make my clients another cuppa, had a swift chat with him, while the kettle was boiling and after hearing his threat, sent him in to see my purchasing director, Mrs T.

Then, while my own could-be-a-buyer supped on their Earl Grey and dunked their Hob-Nobs, I nipped out to the car park to let the air out of one of his tyres, that'd slow him down, as he had to toddle home with one of those stupid thin spare-wheels on!

I did feel a bit bad about it afterwards - not about his tyre, he was young and strong and he probably just called out the AA or some such, to keep his hands clean - I felt bad because these guys used to be part of my business, they used to be friends!