You know when you fight to get out of bed, because you have
things to do, and dress in the dark? Later that day, you realize your underwear
are inside out and need to change them in a public bathroom stall. I had a day
like that—but worse. Sort of like that Scrat from Ice Age that cannot get the acorn no matter what he does.
As my son and I left Ant-Man the other day, a fantastic
movie, I ran into a kiosk with a jolly young fellow named David who had a
help-wanted sign prominently displayed on his cart of weightloss product. He
was seeking a sales consultant to work part of his shift, because he was a
one-man show. The product was great, but the only way to describe his
technique was—inexplicably bad? He spoke way too much, flirted with women passing
by (who were far from needing the product), mentioned negative features of the
food court he was stationed next to, and committed a bounty of other faux
paus, such as video taping without a signed release form. I mentioned these to him as observations and gave him a few quick pointers.
Then the thought hit me! I’ve worked for the big names in sales—the guys who
sell sales—men like Robert Kiyosaki, Jack Canfield, and others. This would be a
piece of cake—without the fattening frosting—using my skills and techniques to
boost the sales of this company that only had one sale within two weeks. Everyone would win, right? Yeah, right.
When asked to return, I dressed in business attire, packed
up my computer so I could show him how I could create the video he suggested, how
I can conduct meetings (because I do all the time), how I’m a whiz at creating
brochures, etc. and my ability to utilize numerous extensive programs. Then I spent over 2 hours explaining that getting the product
into the potential customers’ hands is key. I spoke of positive reinforcement,
and when to listen instead of speaking. I suggested he give my information to
the head CEO of the company in order to save their dying
business—honestly. He smiled and then blew my mind. He invited me to work for
him, 100% commission, at a mall kiosk. I chuckled and told him I would work
with his sales team in training them, get an advertising scheme together, and
could practically guarantee a huge productive increase if the owner contacted
me, but I would not work under his supervision.
When I got home, my FB notified me that the sales rep had
looked me up and wanted to be friends. I
had just spent two hours letting some guy build up the nerve to hit on me.
So at the end of the day, the ever-elusive acorn was much bigger
than it seemed. I didn’t need to fix my underwear, after all—my T-shirt was on
inside out after spending over two hours ironing it, so to speak. Have you ever
experienced this tragedy? I could say my time would have been better spent at home watching Ice Age, but I learned a valuable lesson. Be cautious to whom I donate my time.
No comments:
Post a Comment