Friday – The Perils of Expert Advice
May. 21st, 2010 12:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
.
.
We have yet another new sales guy at the North Houston franchise, S.M. I don’t mean S. and M., the two sales women who worked here when I started back in January. The S. and the M., in that case, were two separate people. Now we have a guy with the first initial S and the last initial M. I am sure this coincidence of initials is not unrelated to the general rule of serendipity that governs my life.
Dave thinks S.M. will not be able to makes sales, because his head is too big. He doesn’t mean that the guy is arrogant; he literally thinks S.M.’s skull is too big and looks funny on his body. He believes that certain minimum levels of attractiveness are required to be an effective sales person. I think the right personality and the right amount of confidence can make up for nature’s having slighted you in the department of good looks. Dave is an actor when he’s not working in sales, and he relies of his smile and charm to get what he wants. It works for him and he’s very good at what he does. I’ve met some very unattractive but effective sales people, though. Good looks are useful, but not as useful as chutzpa is when it comes to earning a commission. If you happen to be blessed with both, there is no stopping you.
Dave spend a couple of days training S.M., and then yesterday afternoon Frank and Dave of Franchise Operations Development pulled S.M. into the conference room for a two hour session of drilling and advice on how to do his job.
“Listen to that bullsh*t they’re telling him in there,” Dave grumbled. “They have no idea what they’re talking about. Neither one of them has ever work in sales a day in their lives.”
This morning, I dropped a fax off to Dave. The fax machine also serves as my printer, so it sits close to my desk. When I sat close to Dave, it made sense that the machines next to me be the fax number on his business cards. Now that I’ve moved to the other side of the building, it just gives me an excuse to walk over and give him hell. I confess that every day that we work together I make a point to give Dave a hard time for two reasons: because I can, and because we both enjoy it. The two of us like to duel with wit and barbs, and have developed a friendship based on mutual verbal abuse.
“Good morning, S.” I said to the new guy.
“Don’t say good morning to me or anything,” Dave called from back in the corner, “It’s fine to ignore me. Actually, I prefer it that way.”
“Do you hear something?” I asked S.M. “Some sort of annoying buzzing sound?”
“I think Dave’s back there,” S. said helpfully.
“Oh, Dave. Like he matters.”
“Thanks!” Dave called out.
“Whatever,” I said. I walked back and stuck my head around the wall of his cube. “You got a fax, Dave. Insurance forms for your new contracts. Don’t bother thanking me for walking it over here or anything. I don’t have to, you know.”
“You don’t have to bring my faxes to me. The only reason you do it is so that you can give me crap and you know it.”
“You’ve got me there,” I admitted, “No one on my side of the building is any fun, so I have to come over here and take out my frustrations on you.”
“Oh, wah.”
“So, did you tell S. here that he should ignore everything they said to him in that meeting yesterday? Because taking sales advice from operations guys is kind of like taking legal advice from your physician?”
“I already knew that,” S. said with a grin. Hmmm. He doesn’t just have a huge head, he really is smart.
“You’re bad,” Dave said, His back was to me since he was facing his computer, but I could see that his shoulders were shaking from silent laughter.
“I prefer the term evil,” I said, “Evil, but accurate. I’ll leave now. I think I’ve done enough damage for one morning.”
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
.
.
We have yet another new sales guy at the North Houston franchise, S.M. I don’t mean S. and M., the two sales women who worked here when I started back in January. The S. and the M., in that case, were two separate people. Now we have a guy with the first initial S and the last initial M. I am sure this coincidence of initials is not unrelated to the general rule of serendipity that governs my life.
Dave thinks S.M. will not be able to makes sales, because his head is too big. He doesn’t mean that the guy is arrogant; he literally thinks S.M.’s skull is too big and looks funny on his body. He believes that certain minimum levels of attractiveness are required to be an effective sales person. I think the right personality and the right amount of confidence can make up for nature’s having slighted you in the department of good looks. Dave is an actor when he’s not working in sales, and he relies of his smile and charm to get what he wants. It works for him and he’s very good at what he does. I’ve met some very unattractive but effective sales people, though. Good looks are useful, but not as useful as chutzpa is when it comes to earning a commission. If you happen to be blessed with both, there is no stopping you.
Dave spend a couple of days training S.M., and then yesterday afternoon Frank and Dave of Franchise Operations Development pulled S.M. into the conference room for a two hour session of drilling and advice on how to do his job.
“Listen to that bullsh*t they’re telling him in there,” Dave grumbled. “They have no idea what they’re talking about. Neither one of them has ever work in sales a day in their lives.”
This morning, I dropped a fax off to Dave. The fax machine also serves as my printer, so it sits close to my desk. When I sat close to Dave, it made sense that the machines next to me be the fax number on his business cards. Now that I’ve moved to the other side of the building, it just gives me an excuse to walk over and give him hell. I confess that every day that we work together I make a point to give Dave a hard time for two reasons: because I can, and because we both enjoy it. The two of us like to duel with wit and barbs, and have developed a friendship based on mutual verbal abuse.
“Good morning, S.” I said to the new guy.
“Don’t say good morning to me or anything,” Dave called from back in the corner, “It’s fine to ignore me. Actually, I prefer it that way.”
“Do you hear something?” I asked S.M. “Some sort of annoying buzzing sound?”
“I think Dave’s back there,” S. said helpfully.
“Oh, Dave. Like he matters.”
“Thanks!” Dave called out.
“Whatever,” I said. I walked back and stuck my head around the wall of his cube. “You got a fax, Dave. Insurance forms for your new contracts. Don’t bother thanking me for walking it over here or anything. I don’t have to, you know.”
“You don’t have to bring my faxes to me. The only reason you do it is so that you can give me crap and you know it.”
“You’ve got me there,” I admitted, “No one on my side of the building is any fun, so I have to come over here and take out my frustrations on you.”
“Oh, wah.”
“So, did you tell S. here that he should ignore everything they said to him in that meeting yesterday? Because taking sales advice from operations guys is kind of like taking legal advice from your physician?”
“I already knew that,” S. said with a grin. Hmmm. He doesn’t just have a huge head, he really is smart.
“You’re bad,” Dave said, His back was to me since he was facing his computer, but I could see that his shoulders were shaking from silent laughter.
“I prefer the term evil,” I said, “Evil, but accurate. I’ll leave now. I think I’ve done enough damage for one morning.”
