In 1958, the only jobs open were sales positions on a commission basis. I was just out of the Army and out of a job. My mother saved all the money I sent her while I soldiered in Germany and presented it to me to buy a car. So I moved to a city 100 miles away to begin a new career in sales. The sales office was small and smelled strongly of cigarettes. A one hour long speech by the manager informed me of the virtues of their product, a 'Home Sanitation System' commonly known as a vacuum. I was to cold call the citizens of the town, and, without revealing the nature of our product, promise them a set of 'Sheffield' carving knives just for allowing me the pleasure of showing them my product. As a rookie, my sales area lie in the section of town bordered by two steel mills and one coal plant, the workers of which at the moment were laid off. The price of this fabulous machine was $400.00 which equated to three weeks average salary (when working). Determined to show my stuff, I got on the horn and made several appointments. Exactly on time at my first appointment, I was met at the door by a tired looking housewife surrounded by three young children in hand-me-downs. Shown into the living room, I lugged my eighty pound box of demonstrator goodies and placed them in the middle of the floor. I politely complimented her on the decor and sympathized with her on the difficulty of keeping a house hold clean with three children messing it up. We laughed a little and after declining a cup of coffee, I asked to be shown to the bedroom. I explained that I wanted to show her how our powerful machine could extract dead skin from her mattress. We all trooped into the bedroom with the machine, high anticipation all around. I explained that the gray powder seen on the surface of the filter was composed of dirt, dust, skin, and even spider mites too small to see. Her shocked expression led me to reassure her that the spider mites were completely harmless, but wouldn't she rather not have them in her mattress? Soon, it became apparent to me that since all the furniture in the house would not add up to $400.00, a sale was out of the question. But the knife set went over big. Five similar experiences and one aching back later, I headed on home to my one room rented mansion. At the sales meeting the next day, I was informed that a new rookie would take over my sales section and that the manager was going on vacation. The only area left for me was the center of town where all the department stores were located. Dejected, but with hope, I climbed the stairs to my room. New then were small reel-to-reel tape recorders, and I had brought one from Germany to record music. I figured that if I taped my spiel, I could call more people with a perfected tape of my speech. This method worked fine most of the time, failing only when the prospect interrupted the taped spiel with a question. I would hit the pause, answer the question and continue the rest of the offer verbally. It turned out that above the retail stores in town were plush apartments occupied by the fairly well off owners of the stores. Their unmarked side entrances led to automatic elevators and their homes upstairs. I was excited with what turned out to be virgin territory. After demonstrating the power of my machine, a favorite tactic revealed in my training was the use of the question, "Do you have many friends?" Not wanting to look friendless, my prospect would guess that they had dozens of friends, even more than fifty. I offered to pay them $5.00 for every friend of theirs who would just look at our machine. They would also receive the Sheffield Carving Set free. This source of free money often closed the deal right then. Of course, most of their friends declined the offer, so they didn't make much money, but I would be very happy to add these 'friends' to my client list. The following week, the manager came back and was astounded at my success. Reluctantly, he handed over the $50.00 bonus for the top salesman for the week, my weekly commission check of $200.00 for four sales and informed me that he was taking over the middle of town. I was to go back to the development filled with poor out-of-work workers and try my luck there. It didn't take long for me to decide to follow my heart and find a job as a portrait photographer. So I said my good-byes and packed up for home to start what turned out to be my lifelong career. |
