My Experience As A Sampling Promoter

It is scientifically proven that one out of ten customers that approached a promoter is a big asshole.

I’ve spent my last 2 precious weekends working as a sampling promoter in a nearby rundown mall and it was a tremendously educative experience. So much was learnt through out my employment course albeit the fact that I was paid peanuts for my services. No, it was worse than peanuts actually; I was paid peanuts’ skin.

Well, I worked as a sampling boy, distributing samples of a particular brand of cod liver oil that was relatively new in the market. In the meantime, I had to explain to consumers about this new cod liver oil I was promoting and convinced them that it was good for their kids.


This task may appear to be a breeze but it was in fact tougher than inventing the atomic bomb. There are all sorts of people that I had to deal with it and the wardens over in the Kajang Prison will find the prisoners are much easier to deal with than my customers. But more on this later.

Well, here are the little cups of cod liver oil that I had to give out. Yes, it does look like little cups of shooters that can be seen in any pubs/clubs/rich-businessman’s mistress’s house. The red one’s are Bloody Mary and the orange one’s are, well, Orange Mary.

So I had to actually stand there for 9 hours straight (1 hour break in between lah, I just wanna make it sound more dramatic) giving out the shooters, er, I meant cod liver oil.

For 9 hours, I could only stare at this stall that sells phone cover. And y’know what’s the worst part? There are NO hot chicks around to be scooped. It’s like the biggest turnoff of my job man, I nearly quit after 5 minutes of working because of this.

And as a sampling promoter, I am legally obliged to destroy the environment by disposing off used sampling cups and not recycle them. Sorry Mother Earth, consumerism is a bitch.

And I’m also legally obliged to camwhore in the toilet. LOLOL.

Now we come to the food. Being a rundown mall with not many shoppers, I can say that they’ve totally succeed in screwing up their food-court. The food sucked big time. It sucked so bad that even Gandhi couldn’t bear eating food that came from this food-court after his hunger strike. Here’s a photo of one of my meals.

Don’t be deceived by its innocent look. I swore it totally wriggled into another position just 3 seconds after I photographed it.

All in all, this is one heck of an experience. I’ve learnt one very valuable lesson in life.

When you work like an ass, it is only reasonable for you to get paid like a monkey.