“You gotta pin them sons-of-bitches in a corner and not let them out.”
My Texan timeshare sales job manager was insistent on this point.
“I am so Goddamn sick of walking by your tables and hearing you tell them about free vacation weeks and bonus time. You are giving them everything upfront. Stop giving away the farm. Do you know how retarded that is?”
He actually had a point, sort of. Most timeshare sales jobs involve some some pretty hardcore selling. Salesmen are keenly aware of the expensive proposition that they are pushing onto middle-class, middle-income people, so to sweeten the deal right off the bat, the sales person nervously tries to compensate by making the deal not a complete rip off upfront (complete*).
“You know what you to give them? One week. That is it. That is the program. One fucking week. I am tired of this weak shit I keep hearing.”
It was as entertaining as it was perplexing to see the manager getting as heated as he was. After all, I had been there a week and had several sales people and managers alike explain the sales pitch to me. All said the exact same thing. Sell them on “today”, “today”, “today” by offering them extra vacation weeks and bonus days. Was I missing something here? Was I taught how to sell watermelons and am now being screamed at for not telling oranges properly?
“Oh and here’s another thing. You know who turns a table? A manager. Only a manager. I don’t want to ever see any of you do anything close to what that dipshit Chris did yesterday.”
Although only having been there a week longer than myself, Chris had somehow managed to be casted as the whipping boy of public ridicule by the management. It seems that Chris had turned over a table (meaning let the customers leave the sales presentation prematurely without a manager signing off) for the reason that one of his customers, an elderly gentleman, had severe leg pain and did not feel able bodied to walk. As such, Chris acquiesced to their unreasonable request to leave a long sales presentation early to relax and recuperate on their vacation.
“I don’t care if their legs are falling off, you do not let them leave that table. You make them wait while you get a wheel chair and you wheel that son-of-a-bitch around.”
The standard protocol is to never let the fish off the hook; always a get a manager if you can’t maneuver a difficult table into hanging in for the duration of the sales pitch. Wife has a sick child in the room to care for? Reschedule. Husband has irritable syndrome and needs a bathroom very 5 minutes? Pump him full of Pepto-Bismo and get his ass sitting at that table.
Me: “What course of action do you recommend when the customers bring up the most piercing argument against joining our vacation club? That being that it is ridiculously expensive?”
Manager: “I put that asshole on the spot in front of his wife and say ‘Are you telling me that spending time and money on your loved ones is not a priority for you? Sir you are cheap. Just plain cheap.’ And then I hammer home how much money he just told me he plans on spending on his vacation. If he bends on that, I call him what he is, a no good liar.”
An impressive strategy to win the hearts and minds of the people no doubt.
Me: “And what if by chance the customer gets offended by you referring to him as “cheap” or a “liar”?”
Manager: (whiffs in contempt) ”Son-of-bitch isn’t buying from me anyways, what do I care?”
This seemed to be the general consensus amongst the salespeople; anyone who isn’t buying from you is an asshole.
I have been on sports teams, lived in college party houses brimming with frat-holes and alcoholic degenerates, worked in commercial real estate offices overflowing with egomaniacal sales slicksters— but I have never heard of unknown, innocent people referred to so indiscriminately and callously as “retarded”, “assholes”, and “miserable sons of bitches who deserve nothing but shit to breath” before.
I have finally found my people.