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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