Saturday, November 19, 2011

The Three Types of Salesmen.



I've come to the conclusion that there are three basic types of sales people: The first cultivates long-term relationships, and builds trust over time; the second will treat you like you're their best friend, then drop you like a bad habit once they get what they want from you; and the third are outright scammers.

An example of the first is Ben, my sister's husband. He's a great guy. I see the way he treats his children. He loves them, he makes time for them, whenever there is a problem, he is firm and doesn't lose his cool. He is a little scatterbrained at times, and I've seen my sister lose her temper at him, but deep down, she must love the guy to death. He owns the family business, which is selling travel-sized toothpaste, shaving cream and the like in getaway kits or gift sets. His clients, or potential clients, are big name chains like Walmart. Since he is often the representative of his company, it's to his advantage to keep his name, and his company's name, in high prestige.

The second type comes from the carny tradition; they'll make you love them, but as soon as you've bought what they're selling, they have to move on to the next potential mark—I mean customer. It makes for sad mental conditioning, as they don't necessarily make deep connections in their personal lives. At least from the ones I've known. The one I knew best was Chace. Even though I knew him since high school, I hesitate to call him a friend, since being a friend requires trust, and I never trusted him. Every time I did, I always ended up getting let down. With me, the situation that kept repeating itself was this: He would get me in some bad situation, I would react, or usually overreact, and then he'd put the whole thing on me. It's that slippery sense of being able to be able to deny all responsibility for anything bad that happened if someone else makes the slightest mistake.

The most striking example of getting someone to love you until you get what you want, then dropping them was his own marriage. I can't say he married too young. He had lived on his own since he was 18, and had plenty of girlfriends in his time. The girl he married also had plenty of boyfriends, good and bad, and they really seemed to compliment each other. So, they knew what they wanted, and they wanted each other. Great. Happily ever after right? Well, then they had a baby. They probably should have waited a few years before that one. I don't exactly know the details, but, the short version is that he just dropped a total bombshell that he no longer loved his wife and wanted a divorce. I helped him move out the week after. I didn't see much of his soon-to-be ex-wife, but she was there, with the support of her family, and she had a very bitter look to her. I can't say I blame her. Now, he says he never cheated on her, but when the same “friend” that helped him unpack was later listed on his Facebook page as his girlfriend, you draw your own conclusions. Here's the real kicker: the last time I saw him, he had just come from a custody hearing. He was awarded weekend custody of his child. “I got exactly what I wanted,” he said with a smile. Now I don't have kids, and I've never been married, but I'm pretty sure when you leave family court, you're not supposed to get “exactly what you wanted.” Since he moved, I've heard from him maybe half a dozen times. Every time, he wanted something from me, usually to show up at some show he was doing. I've done my last favor for that guy.

Which brings us to the third kind: the outright liar. The scam artist. I've covered this some in an earlier essay, but I'll go into more detail here. The most famous con artists are household names: Ken Lay, Bernie Madoff, Prince whatshisname of Nigeria. But the thing is, there are smaller pyramid schemes and con artists, and they put out ads in the paper or on Craig's List every day. Sometimes they attach themselves to a cause, something difficult to disagree with like clean water, or curing cancer; sometimes they'll sell an over-powered and expensive product, like a vacuum cleaner or blender that really has no residential use at all. Sometimes, they just panhandle.

I applied one time to the Citizens Campaign for the Environment. It seemed like a charitable notion: mobilize the community, get support, signatures, you didn't need to get any money. It sounded like being part of a democratic club or something. Well, my brother told me how ten years prior, he had worked for the same company, and all they did was get in a van, go to some rich suburban neighborhood and shake down old ladies for money. At the end of the day, he made a big stink about it being a scam in front of everyone. He told me to stay away from them, so I did.
Then, about six months later, I answered an ad about promoting clean electricity. I had done a final paper for one of my classes on clean electricity. The job was in Manhattan, not Westchester. I figured it was different. Well, it turned out the only thing different was that, instead of going door to door, they stood around in Time Square or Union Square, or wherever, and flagged down people asking for “support.” Well, so much for that.

Over the next four or five years I gained some real work experience, and so, when I wanted to try moving to another state, I secured a job as a product representative. Unlike the sales job I was doing at the time, there was a base pay, and I didn't have to worry about setting up appointments. I would come into someone's house, demonstrate the product, and either they'd buy or they wouldn't. If my other job was anything to go on, they'd probably get some kind of gift for their time. Well, it turned out, I was lied to. Plain and simple.

There was no base pay. But, if you went a certain number of demos without making a sale, you'd get some compensation money. How do you get appointments? By going door to door offering a “free room cleaning.” Or, by handing out cards offering a chance at a free prize of some kind. What I knew for sure is that the people who turned in those cards would get sales calls, and that giving out those cards on private property, such as supermarkets, was against store policy, so I got shooed away on more than one occasion. I felt pathetic.

The job itself called for getting into the office early in the morning, then some motivational yelling. Yes, motivational yelling. “What do we sell? KIRBY! KIRBY KIRBY!” It was exactly the sales bullshit and groupthing/sportsthink that I had tried so hard to avoid. I remember a sales strategy tip that the person who made the most sales would get some kind of free trip. It was a good idea to pass along this information to the mark—I mean customer, so they'd identify with you. The instructor literally came out and said to the sales team, “they'll buy if you say you want to win a contest, they won't buy if you say you need to pay your rent.” And of course, even though you started early, you had to stay late, because most of the sales would happen after people got off of work, after 6:00. I got a sinking feeling, and fast, but I didn't see any other options. You know, with that whole trying to move thing, and I couldn't just turn around and head back to New York for a few weeks. Then, just when I thought things couldn't get worse, my car broke down.

A few months later, I had indeed moved back to New York, and was looking for jobs. I answered an ad, and by the time I had the interview set up, I could tell from a mile away this was a scam. But this time, I knew their tricks. I was free. I had absolutely nothing to lose. So I tried an experiment: I would intentionally bomb the interview. I would see just how far I could push the boundaries and still see if they needed warm bodies to fill up the lower rungs of their pyramid. I came in completely unprepared. I filled out a questionnaire and some forms. Q: How much did I know about the company? A: Nothing. Q: Have you ever been convicted of a felony? A: Not yet. I told the guy a story that I was on trial for statutory rape. The only way I could have looked like I gave any less of a fuck is if I showed up for the interview in my pajamas. He said I was the first person to ever answer those questions honestly.

What a fucking scam.

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