Next month is the Autumn Convention. Anyone in the world of Network Marketing will know that in the month before the Big Convention we are all on a mission – we need to hit Double-Diamond Starship Commander status to get to the conference in Cancun – we need another 20 contracts to get the Maserati – we need this for that or the other for whatever.
In short, we need some activity.
The only trouble is that the Autumn Convention comes right after the Holiday Season – which means I have spent the last week with my family at the seaside doing all the things we have done every year since the children were little – and even though they’re now in their teens and twenties, we still do the same things because… because…. Well, it’s a tradition.
So we had sausages by candlelight in the beach hut on the first night and cockles from the fisherman’s hut and walked to Walberswick in the rain (only it rained just the once about ten years ago) and went to the Summer Theatre (The 39 Steps)…
And this year for the first time, there was a new activity. Every day Dad went into town for an hour of Prize Draw. In the seven days we were there I added 70 names to my list and signed up a new distributor (right there in the street). It didn’t interfere with the holiday and it was a great boost to the business just at the right time.
But none of that compares with what happened today. Today we were home and the trouble is that once you’ve done something every day for a week, it becomes difficult to break the habit. The plain fact was that I just had to get out there with my little satchel over my shoulder and my wad of prize draw forms. The only trouble was that today is Sunday and the town centre was deserted. It shouldn’t be: Shops stay open on Sundays now – and this was Holiday Season. It should be crowded with visitors. But you can’t argue with the facts. The Town Centre was deserted.
But habits – even new ones – die hard. The next stop was the river wall where people stroll on a Sunny Sunday. That too – for some inexplicable reason – was similarly empty.
In desperation the third stop was the boating pond. The good thing about this concrete rectangle filled with two feet of murky water is that they’ve now relocated the tea hut next to it. The place was teeming – and better still, teeming with people hanging about watching the children who in turn were watching the grown-up children sailing their radio-controlled boats.
Now, if you look at the statistics below and compare them to previous statistics you will notice something quite extraordinary: The “asked” column contains only the figure “1” – five times I invited people to enter my free prize draw and five times they said “yes”.
Starship Commander, here I come…
|11.45 – 11.47||2||1||B,C|
|11.49 – 11.57||8||1||B,E,C|
|11.57 – 12.02||5||1||B,E,C|
|12.02 – 12.07||5||1||B,C|
|Total||24mins||5||5B, 3E, 5C,|
On the company Facebook page someone was complaining about going to an appointment and finding nobody home. Instantly the post was deluged with people saying the same had happened to them – and I was able to add my pennyworth….
I turned up once to find no-one there. I thought “Maybe they’ve gone out and they’re a bit late back.” So I sat in the car and made some phone calls for ten minutes. The trouble was I got a bit carried away and was still there happily dialling away an hour later. This was when they felt they couldn’t stay imprisoned in their own house any longer. They erupted from the front door like Bonnie and Clyde coming out of the bank, leapt into their car and screamed off nearly taking my bumper with them. I put them down as “No for Now”.
Well here’s how it came about. A week ago yesterday – which was a Bank Holiday Sunday – we had a crisis: Hugo, who is 13, had decided that he was going to spend the whole bank holiday weekend on the X-Box. But there was one problem (no it did not have to do with fresh air and exercise): The battery in his headset had died. Without the battery in his headset, how was he to talk to teenagers in Japan and Slovenia? And this was no ordinary battery. This was a CR2 battery.
Since I was about to walk the dog, would I (please, please) go down to the town and get him a new battery. He was on Level 796 and if he didn’t get to Level 797 by teatime he would implode.
We began a short period of negotiation. People who have seen me negotiate with Hugo say I am a wimp. In my defense, I should say I had the same trouble with his oldest brother who is now a high-powered corporate lawyer who helps Russian oligarchs sue each other for billions. I came away with a promise that Hugo would venture out in the afternoon just long enough to join his friends in disrupting the traffic with their skateboards.
And so it was that I found myself in the Cheap Shop. Actually it’s called something else which I can’t remember but in our family it’s always been called The Cheap Shop just as the smelly bookshop is called “The Smelly Bookshop” because way back at the turn of the millennium there was a man in there with the most dreadful body odor. Anyway The Cheap Shop sold CR2 batteries – and although they were cheap, they would probably see Hugo through the Bank Holiday weekend.
It was while I was fishing out the modest few coins which is all The Cheap Shop demands that I became aware of a consternation. One of the assistants came in to announce: “There’s a dog tied up outside.”
Well of course there was a dog tied up outside. It was my dog. So many shops won’t allow dogs that I leave her outside by default. Even the stationers doesn’t allow dogs – and they don’t sell so much as a chocolate bar by way of “food products”.
Before long all three assistants were outside making a fuss of the dog. Once they realised they were all outside at the same time, one of them had to come back in to take my money – and then, of course, had to go outside again with the one “food product” the shop did stock (dog treats behind the counter).
None of this will come as any surprise to anyone who has seen the dog waiting outside a shop. I think I once parked her too near an RSPCA poster and she copied the expression. By now she had gathered a small crowd saying “Aaah,” and “Poor little thing – been left all alone have you…”
One way and another there was a good deal of fuss and introductions and explanations that the manageress used to have a spaniel called Bouncer. Not any more though. She doesn’t have time for another dog. Not with a family and two jobs and…
Can you see an opening here for a Network Marketer? I think the lady from the Cheap Shop is going to make a great distributor.
This morning I tried to explain all this to Hugo. All I wanted was a picture of him with the X-Box. It would look great on the Blog. More people would read it – and sign up for the Cold Market Academy. I would make money.
I could buy him more CR2 batteries, for heaven’s sake…
I make no apologies for posting this one again. It comes from November last year and I couldn’t find the photo until I stumbled on it this evening. In fact the picture doesn’t match the story at all – it was taken at Christmas the previous year. But hey, who’s going to let the facts get in the way…
You get to an age when you don’t approach attractive young women any more.
For one thing it’s pretty pointless and for another I just can’t take the rejection.
As a Network Marketer, I should be used to rejection – but it does cause a bit of inner turmoil because attractive young women make particularly good Network Marketers. Get them started in any kind of Multi-Level Marketing or Direct Sales business and they just tend to fly.
So there I was on my way to the big leadership conference. I had been talking non-stop on the hands free to the team. I was, as you might say, “In The Zone” when, walking into the Motorway Services for a bite of lunch, I was confronted not by one attractive young woman but by four of them. I just remember this overwhelming impression of wall to wall big eyes and sparkling teeth and red lips and …. well, you get the idea (and, of course, the big booming voice in my head saying: “Don’t look there, don’t look there…”
And all of this would have been fine had it not been for the leader of the pack latching onto me as effortlessly as a lioness brings down an ageing and infirm old Wildebeest.
Whatever it was she said brought me to an abrupt halt. I have no idea what she did say because at the time all my senses seemed to be fully occupied with the big eyes, sparkling teeth and red lips at close range. Also by this time she had her manicured and painted hand on my arm.
Over the next few minutes I became vaguely aware that my wife and daughter would be forever grateful if only I would take home to each of them a miniature black carrier bag. This was modeled on the sort of thing you see being loaded into the back of Bentleys in Kensington – only small enough to dangle from her polished index finger.
It was difficult to believe that anything so small could be worth £160 but that was what she said the make up inside it should really cost – but I could have it for nothing…. provided I bought this small black cylinder with a brush which popped out like something in a Christmas conjuring set. The small black cylinder was priced at only £27.99.
It was only now that I found my tongue (I have a horrible suspicion that it might have been hanging out all this time). Anyway I was able to mumble something about my wife and daughter never forgiving me if I presumed to buy make up for them…
But once I managed to get the mouth working again, of course it went onto auto-pilot: “I must say you’re really good at this. Have you been in sales for long? Really? Well actually I’m always looking for good sales people. Tell me, have you ever thought of using the skills you’ve got in your spare time? You could earn a really good extra income – just as long as it doesn’t affect your full-time job, of course…”
And she said: “Is this Network Marketing?”
“It sounds as though you know all about it…”
And she did. She had been to presentations by two other companies and thought the concept was brilliant. It was just that this was her own company she was promoting – the three other attractive young women were her employees being trained up to run their own stalls in other motorway service areas. Next month she was off to America…
“But I do want to get into Network Marketing one day,” she said. “Maybe in two of three years when I can get someone to manage this for me…”
And she put down her conjuring set and took my phone and tapped away with her painted fingers and we’ll talk again in two or three years time.
I’d like to make that two…
As excuses go, this was quite a novel one: The new distributor said that his family wouldn’t talk to him and he didn’t have any phone numbers for his friends.
Instead we were going to call on them. It would be a nice surprise.
Maybe they weren’t really friends. Maybe it was having me in tow… maybe it was just too early on a Saturday morning. Anyway, it didn’t go very well. At the last door we got a “No” even before we got inside – one of those definitive, belligerent “No’s” that you don’t argue with.
It just made me so grateful for the Cold Market: While the new distributor was mumbling apologies and saying he couldn’t understand it, I said: “Don’t worry. I’ll find us someone to talk to.”
It did involve a 20 minute drive to the other side of town because that was where I had delivered my Written Invitations. With the air of a confident conjurer, I announced: “I want to show you something…”
And we walked up to the first door and rang the bell. Within two minutes we had made a new friend (not a belligerent one) and had his wife’s name and phone number because she deals with what we have to offer.
Now I should add that we knocked on a further five doors and got nowhere – and by that time it was starting to rain hard.
“Never mind,” I said, pulling another rabbit out of the hat. “Let’s ring up some old numbers.”
And so we did.
I have a lot of old numbers – I think about 3,500 and the vast majority of them are very badly organised. If there is an electronic equivalent of the bran tub that you find at the best kind of village fete, that is my Customer Relationship Management system. Anyway, I plunged my hand into the microchips and came up with a name. It appears I last spoke to him on December 2nd 2008. Never mind, I poked at the number on the screen and it began to dial: “I don’t know whether my name rings a bell…” I said brightly as I do a dozen times a day.
A bell did ring somewhere in his memory – and no sooner had I launched into my Magic Minute than he came up with the name of the company – not particularly difficult because it appears that no sooner had I prospected him as a distributor all those years ago, than someone else came along and signed him up as a customer – which he has been ever since.
However what they had not done – for which he will doubtless be very cross when he realizes what he has missed – is show him how the money works. I have a date to do that on Monday week.
My new distributor sat in the passenger seat while all this was going on. I’m not sure what he was thinking but I fancy it might have something to do with the question of why a pair of total strangers are happy to do what a long-standing friend plainly won’t.
I don’t have the answer. I guess it goes under the heading of “Isn’t that interesting…”
Do you ever kick yourself for making the same mistake over and over again?
Why do we do this? Don’t we ever learn?
I used to stand up in my Network Marketing Company’s training sessions and tell the delegates: “It is essential that you have all the decision-makers present. It is a complete waste of time to show your presentation to Sid by himself – only to have him say: “That looks very good. I’ll tell Doris.”
The fact is that if Sid had attended the training session, he might have make a passable job of showing the products to their best advantage. Instead of which your fabulous presentation is going to be reduced to “Jim came round with some health pills” or “Sally wants to sell us gas and electric”.
“Do not risk it,” I would tell them. “Make sure they understand you are expecting them both to be there and if they are not, you must – I repeat, must – explain politely that you will have to call again at another time. When’s best for them – both of them?
Come on, you have taken the decision to start this business, you have steeled yourself to pick up the phone and make the appointment. You can do this!
Yup – and you can do the other…
I had met the Penny when she entered my Prize Draw. “Oh, you must talk to my husband,” she had said. “He deals with all those sort of things.”
And sure enough, once I was sitting at his kitchen table and asked: “Will Penny be joining us?” He confirmed: “Oh, she has to go out. Anyway she won’t be interested…”
And so we began.
After about ten minutes Penny popped her head round the door to say she was just leaving. Her parting words were the following: “Now don’t go signing anything while I’m not here!”
And she was gone.
“Sorry, but I thought you said she wouldn’t be interested…”
– Well, she’s not really but I wouldn’t make any decision today anyway.
And time stood still. The Earth paused on its axis. The pendulum of the antique grandfather clock in the hall hung at an impossible angle and I had my chance to say: “Ah, right… well, you see we operate in a very highly regulated industry and it would be quite improper for me to show you what we have unless all the relevant parties are present. So I am afraid we will have to leave it there for now.
“So when would be a good time to continue when Penny will be available? I can manage tomorrow at 10.00 a.m. or, failing that. I have a slot at 4.30 on Friday…”
Instead I flunked it. The moment passed and sauntered off into that parallel universe in which people say: “Well that’s very interesting. I’ll pass that on to Penny and we’ll let you know…”
… and the answer, when it came was: “Penny’s decided we’re alright as we are. I know we’re paying a bit more (£1,100 a year, actually) but we don’t want to make any changes…”
Now it would be very unfair of me to end this post on such a somber note. A NetworkMarketingBlog post – just like a satisfying novel – should leave the reader feeling uplifted and empowered and all that good stuff.
So let us ask ourselves what is the best thing about what just happened?
Well, we have learned what not to do (yes we have … and no we won’t do it again…)
And it has driven us out out into Cold Market again to go and find another prospect because we do not care what Penny and her husband decide to do. There will be no embarrassment next time we meet them at a family party or the Social Club summer barbecue. In fact in all probability we will never, ever, see them again.
At least that was what I told myself as I set out with my Prize Draw forms once more and – as you will see below – got myself another three people to talk to.
|11.02.16||Car Park||1147 – 1205||13||14||1||1|
|1205 – 1215||10||15||1||1|
|1215 – 1240||15||6||1||1|
Here in the UK we’ve just had Storm Imogen come a-calling. She brought down power lines, disrupted trains, closed roads, blew off the chimney pots and – best of all – gave the British a real reason to talk about the weather.
In the middle of it all I was due to go out with a team-member and follow up some Written Invitations. At the cross-team meeting I had been explaining how much I enjoy this and how efficient it is at finding the right kind of people (all you have to do is find the right kind of houses and guess what: The right kind of people will be in them).
We were due to meet at 3.00 p.m.
At 11.00 a.m. the sky was growing dark. The dog was being blown off the sea wall. By lunchtime the BBC forecast was offering winds of 50 miles an hour.
It occurred to me that maybe we should put off following up the Written Invitations. After all, was anyone going to want to open their door on a day like this? But then I thought of Art Williams saying “Just do it!”.
… well, what I mean is I went to the rendez-vous. And waited. There was a bit of confusion about the time – which is useful for making phone calls and then came an SMS message “Held up at work. Can we do it another day?”
Sure, we can always do it another day – any other day, quite frankly.
And then I looked at the houses. People were switching lights on as if to say: “We’re warm and cosy in here. We don’t want to open the door and let the storm in.” I could go home too. The fire would still be burning in my office. I could make some tea. I had a feeling there were some hot cross buns in the bread bin. Tea and hot cross buns and strawberry jam while Storm Imogen raged outside…
Or just do it.
Out of 15 houses, only three people answered the door. The first was not interested. The next two invited me in. Of those the first was interested but not serious.
Then I knocked on the last door. They watched my two-minute video. They asked me to go back and do an assessment for them on the 24th.
All the way home, I could hear Art’s voice ringing in me ears: “Just do it and do it and do it – until the job gets done.”
And you know what. It’s great when the job gets done. In fact it was so great I wanted to taste that again – more than hot cross buns with strawberry jam. So I made a little detour on the way home to someone who had said “call me on Monday” – only for me to find that I hadn’t written down enough digits of her phone number. So I knocked on her door too – even though it was now dark and raining as well – and her husband came to the door and I told him why I was there and he said “of course” and sat me down on the sofa and watched my two minute video … and asked me go back on the 23rd for an assessment.
I never did have a hot cross bun. But then I didn’t need one.
- You can see Art Williams’ inspirational 1987 speech at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TU7Y6HiLXto
It was only in the last post that I reported the result of a half an hour’s prize draw in the street when a passer-by listened to what I had to say and responded: “That’s sounds fantastic!” In no time at all she agreed that I would go round and show her and her husband what I had to offer.
That was supposed to be this morning. But on Sunday morning, I received this SMS message: “Good morning. We arranged for you to visit on 8th Feb at 1100 hrs to give us a quote for utilities. We have decided we would like to cancel this appointment and make contact with you if we decide in the future to explore changing. Many thanks.”
Well we’ve all had something like that happen and, working in the Cold Market as I do, I need to have 15 appointments cancelled every month just to ensure the other 15 actually happen.
But it was a bit of a surprise that someone so enthusiastic should change their mind so suddenly.
Except that it should come as no surprise: After all, what do you suppose happened? She got home and told her husband that I was coming – and no matter how enthusiastic she might have sounded, what he heard was: “I’ve invited an energy salesman to come round.”
What gets me is that this happened within hours of my sending out the latest Cold Market Academy Update. These are sent free of charge to Network Marketers who have purchased the Online version of the course (see the tab above). Anyway, here is just one paragraph from the update:
I really have been getting far fewer cancellations this way. Of course if I have spoken to only one half of a couple, it makes sense to call the other half and give them the Magic 30 seconds over the phone…
Further to the earlier post, I should add that I have a new chart at the back of my book. It has 31 spaces down the right hand side and it is my intention to fill each space with a name of someone who has agreed to an assessment in the current month. The intention is to enter a name for each day of the month (29 this month).
However although I have a date to call the woman in the apron from this morning, that does not count as a firm appointment and today is the sixth and I only had five names down the right hand side … so I am behind already: I needed to do half an hour of Prize Draw while walking the dog this afternoon.
As you will see below, I struck lucky with the very first person I talked to.
Now, it did occur to me that it was chilly down by the car park, late-ish on a Saturday afternoon with not many people about… was it worth carrying on? Well obviously it was worth carrying on – if only for the Pebbles in the Pot [see relevant post].
… and it turned out to be most definitely worth it. The first prospect didn’t think I could help her. She had invited someone from my company to her home a couple of years ago and they couldn’t help her. I said: “That’s OK. I just arrange to do 30 assessments a month. Half of those get cancelled so actually I only do 15. Of those 15, usually six say No to what I have to offer – which leaves me without about nine every month who say Yes. If you like you can be one of the No’s. I’ve got to have somebody who says No…”
The second person who stopped was a soldier from the local army base. Home was in Worcestershire but his wife had just had a baby and might prefer not to go back to work so they’re looking at the opportunity and I’m to call him tomorrow.
Number three watched the two minute video with rapt attention and exclaimed. “That’s brilliant” so I don’t really need to add anything to that.
Good day really. Maybe not so boring after all.
|06.02.16||Car Park||1532 – 1555||13||1||1||1|
|1545 – 1555||10||17||1||1|
|1555 – 1605||10||4||1||1|