Читать книгу Sales Success - Mark Bowser - Страница 7

Preface

“How can you be so incompetent? One sale! One sale! How can you only make one sale in a month? That is ridiculous. It was a measly sale at that!” bellowed an extremely angry and frustrated sales manager. “Jack, if I don’t see improvement soon, you are out of here.”

“Not again,” thought a very depressed, dejected Jack Blake. This was his third sales job in a year and he was failing again. “What is wrong with me?”

As Jack left his manager’s office, he felt lost. He had no clue on how to improve. He had no clue on where to even start. “It wouldn’t make any difference anyway,” thought Jack.

Eleven months ago, Jack had entered the world of selling full of excitement. Now he just felt like giving up. He thought back to the previous eleven months, to that excitement he felt as he accepted that first job selling insurance.

When he graduated from college a year and a half ago, he had felt like the world was his. He thought he was ready. He graduated in the top ten percent of his class with a double BA in Marketing and Business Administration, so why wasn’t he able to succeed at sales?

After taking a few weeks to travel and relax, Jack had taken a job as a sales representative for FSI Insurance Company. FSI is the third largest insurance company in the nation and very selective on whom they let represent them as a sales representative.

Jack has always been interested in sales and knew he was going to rip this industry up with success. Jack first became interested in sales when he sold grapefruits to earn money for a Florida baseball trip for his little league team. He had sold more grapefruits than anyone else and paid for his entire trip without having to get any money from his parents.

Jack’s first month at FSI went extremely well. That month, he had the third most sales on the team, beating the numbers of many veterans. He sold his parents a policy, his uncle and aunt in Michigan, his cousin Susanne in Georgia, and a number of his friends.

However, from there it began to go downhill. His second month was mediocre. In fact, that is where he ended up in the team rankings. Smack dab in the middle. His third month was awful. He ended the month better than only one other sales person, and he knew that guy was going to be fired. Jack was only mildly surprised when he was fired too.

It didn’t take Jack long to get another job, though. He landed what appeared to be a lucrative position with the largest auto dealer in the area. He was now one of the select sales representatives for Frank’s Auto World, which represented Toyota, Honda, Ford, and Volvo cars. Talk about variety. This should be easy. He is just glad they didn’t ask about his previous job in the interview. Frank’s Auto World was so impressed with his college career that they hired Jack on the spot.

Now, all Jack had to do was prove that he could sell….which he didn’t. He sold only three cars in his first six weeks. In fact, that isn’t quite true. He only sold two. The third sale came when a couple came in and bought a car in ten minutes. They were sold before they had walked on the lot. They knew the make, model, color, and features that they wanted. In fact, they knew more about that particular car than Jack did.

That was the highlight of Jack’s life as a car sales professional. In his second six weeks with Frank’s Auto World, Jack only sold one car. They let him go shortly after that. Now, it looked like the same thing was going to happen again.

Jack’s current job was selling Professional Training DVD and Audio Programs for Success is Yours Incorporated to businesses and individuals. Jack loved the product. Every time he watched or listened to one of the programs, he got motivated and began to believe he could succeed too.

Jack’s thoughts finally brought him back to the reality at hand. “It is just so hard,” he thought. “Well, it is about 4:30 PM. I may as well go home, get a good night’s sleep, and give it another try in the morning.”

As Jack walked into the entry door of his dingy apartment building, he opened his mailbox. “Junk mail, junk mail, what is this?” It was a light green envelope that just had his name on it. Someone had obviously just dropped it into the mailbox.

As Jack opened the plain envelope, his stomach sank. It was from his landlady, Mrs. Norris. Mrs. Norris was a sweet lady around 65 years of age. She had lost her husband about three years ago and had been running the apartment building ever since. She had salt and pepper hair, a plump figure, and always wore a warm, caring demeanor on her face. More than once, Jack had enjoyed sitting with her on a warm, sunny afternoon on a bench under the old sweet gum tree adjacent to the apartment complex parking lot.

Mrs. Norris seemed to understand Jack’s feelings about how hard of a struggle he was having with his job. She had always been so supportive. It was always comforting to talk with her.

As he opened the small envelope, he saw a short handwritten note inside it. Jack unfolded the note and began to read:

Dear Jack,

I hate to write a note like this, but I really have no choice. I know how hard your job is for you right now and I understand you are under a lot of stress. However, I am trying to separate my personal feelings for you and run my apartment complex like a business.

Please know that you are like a son to me and I love you very, very much. If you could at least show intent to pay your rent. You haven’t paid anything for the last two months. Can you at least pay half of your rent this month? If not, I will have no choice but to ask you to move out. I am so sorry about this Jack.

God bless,Mrs. Norris

“Great.” Jack said out loud in a muffled tone. He understood of course. He also was embarrassed. Where was he going to get $350 in the next two weeks? His entire rent was $700 a month, and he knew that would be almost impossible for him to get a hold of in just two weeks. If only he could make a couple of big sales in the next two weeks.

As Jack made his way upstairs to his one-bedroom apartment, he felt as though he was totally alone. He felt no one completely understood…or at least cared. Jack knew these thoughts weren’t true, but that is how he felt.

Sure, he could ask his parents to float him a little loan. But, he had done that before. He didn’t want to do that again. He had to do this on his own. He had to figure out a way. For the first time in a long time, Jack began to feel the twinkle of a little determination.

He needed some air. Maybe a walk would clear his mind. As he thought about his parents, Jack knew where he needed to go to clear his mind. Jack’s parents had given him a Christmas gift of a season pass to the Cincinnati Zoo. Jack loved the zoo. As a kid, they would go to the Cincinnati Zoo about once a week during the summer. It is a wonderful zoo and one with a good bit of history too. It is the second oldest zoo in the United States.

Jack only lived about two miles from the zoo. In fact, Jack has lived in the Cincy area all his life. He grew up in the beautiful Cincinnati suburb of Loveland, OH.

As Jack entered the zoo entrance gates, he could already feel a bit of the stress leave his body. He walked past the entrance and headed to his favorite spot, the gorilla exhibit. He loved the gorillas. They are so majestic with such strength but also such poise as they climb up the trees and other elements in their zoo home. Everything Jack wasn’t and wanted to be.

Jack walked into the exhibit and his eyes immediately caught the big guy, one of the main attractions to the zoo itself. Sam, the large male gorilla, was huge. He was snorting and pacing for the crowd. As he did, his blackish, gray fur bristled. He was larger than most male silverbacks, and he ruled his kingdom without question. Such confidence. “Boy,” thought Jack. “If I had just a tiny piece of Sam’s confidence, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Jack moved to the series of benches directly in the middle of the exhibit and took a seat. It felt good to sit down. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was. For a moment, Jack closed his eyes and let the thoughts and stress ease from his weary presence.

Jack was knocked out of his inner reverie by a voice. The voice said, “Is this seat taken?” Jack looked up and said “What?” An older gentleman was looking down at Jack. The man must have been in his seventies, maybe even eighties. He had stark white hair with just a touch of black in the back. His skin was wrinkly with the miles of successful living behind him. He was wearing a pair of business casual style Khaki pants, a solid baby blue golf shirt with just a hint of a stripe, and stark white (looked like he just took them out of the box) tennis shoes. But his eyes, there was something about his blue eyes. They sparkled with an energy and aliveness that Jack had never seen before. The old man said again, “Is this seat taken?”

Jack shook off the cobwebs in his mind and remembered his manners. Jack gestured to the open seat next to him on the bench and said, “Ah, no. Please.” Before Jack could get the words out, the old man sat down right next to him.

Now, Jack felt uncomfortable. He felt like this man could see through the façade he showed the world and peer directly to the depths of his starved, despaired soul. He felt as though the old man was staring at him. Jack just stared straight ahead and watched Sam down a banana in one big gulp. “Should I turn my head? Should I glance his way?” thought Jack. “I don’t know. This is uncomfortable. What is with this guy?”

Finally, Jack took a slight glance toward the old man. The old man immediately said, “Powerful, isn’t he? Such strength.”

“What?” asked Jack.

“Sam, the gorilla. He has such powerful strength. If we all had such confidence, success would be inevitable.”

Now, Jack was beginning to freak out. He had had those exact thoughts a few minutes ago. “Is this guy in my head? Who is this guy?” Jack’s thoughts were going a mile a minute trying to connect this seemingly impossible puzzle of an old (or should he say odd?) man.

The old man held out his hand, “The names Digger; Digger Jones.” Jack reached out in instinct and grabbed the old man’s hand. He was shocked at the strength of the old man’s handshake. It was firm, but not too firm. It was confident, but not arrogant. But those blue eyes were what really caught Jack’s attention. He couldn’t stop focusing on them. They were like a breath of sweet energy that burrowed their way into his soul. On arrival, a warm calm would envelope you down deep and soon encompass you with peace. Again, Jack thought, “Who is this guy?”

“So, what brings you to Sam’s house today?” asked Digger.

“Oh, no reason.”

“You don’t seem like a man who came for no reason.”

Jack sighed and reluctantly said, “Oh, I am having some trouble at work.” Why was he opening up to this man? Who is this guy?

“Not enough sales, huh?”

“How did…how did you know? How did you even know that I am in sales?” stammered a now very freaked out Jack.

“That is why I am here.”

“What do you mean that is why you are here?”

Digger looked at Jack with those piercing eyes and said in a calm, firm voice, “Jack, I have been sent to you. I can help you solve your challenge.”

“Who sent him? My boss? Mrs. Norris?” Jack’s inner thoughts were bombarding him with more questions…but no answers. “No, his boss didn’t really care and Mrs. Norris didn’t know he was at the zoo. And besides, how would she ever know a guy like this?”

“Who sent you?” Jack finally asked Digger.

A small smile formed on the corners of Digger’s mouth. “Don’t worry about that. Just know that I am here to help…and I can help you, Jack. Tell you what, meet me tomorrow morning at 7:45 AM at this address.” Digger handed Jack a shredded, wrinkled up scrap of paper with an address scrolled on it. “The Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce is hosting an event. There is someone I want you to meet. Just be there at 7:45 and a ticket will be waiting for you. I will see you tomorrow.” With that, the old man got up, smiled, and made his way out of the Gorilla exhibit.

As Jack bent down to tie his shoes the next morning, his thoughts continued to plague him. “What am I doing? Am I really going to this address? It is 6:30 AM. I could still be sleeping.” Jack finished tying his black Dockers dress shoes and he stood up. Jack had put on his best suit. It was a charcoal gray suit with a red pinstripe. Jack didn’t even know why he had put on his best suit. He just felt like…he was supposed to.

“Oh well,” Jack said out loud to no one, “I am going. I have made my decision. This Digger guy might be nuts, but I am curious now.”

Jack pulled into the parking lot at 7:32 AM. It was packed. “Man, a lot of people get up early around here,” thought Jack. After driving around for a few minutes, Jack finally found a parking spot a mile away (or what seemed like a mile away).

Jack walked into the big front doors of the Blue Ash Convention Center. He had heard about this place, but had never stepped foot into it before. He had never had a need to…until now.

He walked up to a temporary table that had been set up in the middle of the entry area. The table had a sign hanging on the front that read “Pre-Purchased Tickets.” Well, this must be the place. Jack gave them his name and no sooner, he had a ticket in his hand.

He looked down at the ticket and printed in big red letters were the words, “BREAKFAST WITH ZIG ZIGLAR.”

Wow, Jack had heard of Zig. Zig was a master salesperson. He had an old cassette that his dad had given him. He hadn’t listened to it for years. Zig is here? Maybe, this won’t be a waste of time after all.

“Jack! Good morning, my friend.” Digger came bounding up to Jack and grabbed his hand. “So glad you can make it. Do I have a treat for you. Follow me.”

Digger looked awesome. He was wearing a perfectly tailored solid black suit. You could eat off his shoes they were so shiny. His tie was a bright red with a matching handkerchief that was just peeking out of his left breast jacket pocket. He was wearing beautifully hand-crafted cufflinks that had the initials “DJ” imprinted on them.

Digger led Jack past the crowd of people and through a set of double doors. They were headed back stage. “Are you sure it is okay for us to be back here?”

“Oh yea! Don’t worry about it. I do this all the time.” On that, Jack had no doubt.

They walked into a little room and there he was… Zig Ziglar. Digger bellowed, “Zig, you are looking better than good my friend.”

“And, you clean up pretty well too. For the last few years, I have gotten so used to seeing you in a golf shirt and those ugly teal striped pants of yours. I was beginning to think that you didn’t own a suit anymore,” laughed Zig.

“Ha. Ha. Just because I still don’t travel all over the place doesn’t mean I don’t work…some of the time.”

They know each other. Who is this Digger Jones?

“Zig, I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Jack Blake. Jack, this is Zig Ziglar.”

“Good morning, young man. Are you sure you want to hang around this guy?” laughed Zig. “He might hurt your reputation.”

“Ahh. Don’t listen to this old coot, Jack. I am like an old pair of shoes.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” said Jack.

“Well,” started Digger. “Let me answer the question that is on your mind, Jack. ‘How do Zig and I know each other?’ We go way back. Years ago, we both got our start in sales in the cookware business. We sold the best pots and pans this side of the Mississippi. In fact, the best pots and pans on either side of the Mississippi. Zig was always trying to keep up with me. He was always ranked number two to my number one.”

“If I remember correctly,” started Zig in that southern draw of his, “those numbers were the other way around. But of course, your memory was always a little suspect Digger,” razzed Zig.

“Number one or number two, makes no difference,” said Digger.

“Yea, that is what the number two placed individual always says.”

“Well, anyway, we were both good.”

“On that, I can agree,” chuckled Zig.

“Jack, the reason you are here, is that I want to start your training by you hearing from the master. Zig is the best. So, you may as well start with the best.”

“What did he mean, ‘your training?’” thought a confused Jack.

“Well, Zig, just wanted you to meet Jack. We’ll get out of your hair so that you can finish prepping for your presentation.”

“You’re never in my hair, Digger. Incidentally, I still have more hair than you do too,” Zig said with a small smile forming on the corners of his mouth.

“Ah, you old coot,” bellowed Digger with a similar smile forming on the corners of his mouth.

As Digger and Jack walked back through the double doors into the lobby area, Jack hesitated, but forced the question out of his lips, “Digger what did you mean when you told Mr. Ziglar that you wanted me to learn from him to start my training? What training?”

“You are having trouble with your sales, right? Like I said yesterday, I was sent to you.”

Not much more was said about it. In a way, Jack was relieved that he now had guidance and help. He still didn’t understand this Digger Jones, but he was beginning to trust him…and he liked him.

Digger and Jack walked into the auditorium. It was large. It could seat probably 2,000 people. It was packed. At the front of the auditorium was a large stage. It was brilliantly lit. They walked down and took their seats on the third row right smack dab in front of the middle of the stage. These were great seats. Jack would have expected no less from Digger.

As soon as they were seated, a sharp-dressed woman probably in her mid- forties walked onto the stage. She was beaming with enthusiasm. She walked up to the lectern, which was right in front of Digger and Jack’s seats. She began to speak.

“Good morning. Welcome to the Cincinnati USA Regional Chamber’s exciting event, Breakfast with Zig Ziglar. As you know, Zig doesn’t accept many speaking engagements anymore. We are thrilled and honored to have him here with us today. Without further ado, please welcome the one, the only, Mr. Zig Ziglar.”

The crowd erupted into a standing ovation that sounded more like a freight train had just entered the auditorium. Zig walked out onto the stage. What poise. What enthusiasm. It was hard to believe he was in his eighties. He and Digger are a lot alike.

Zig shook the hand of the woman who introduced him, and he looked over the excited crowd. Zig began to speak.