The Network Marketing Blog

Posts Tagged ‘make money’

It was only a quick dash into town to get some bread while the children were at their after-school maths class. But it wasn’t going to take any longer if I gave out some piggy cards on the way.  I had shifted about 30 (only one person said “No thank you”) when I found myself walking next to a window cleaner – well, he had a step ladder and one of those king-size bum bags hanging off one side.

“Are you a window-cleaner?” I asked foolishly.

Actually it was very foolish because he said: “No I’m an intruder alarm fitter.”

“Ah well, never mind. Have a pink pig.”

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s about money. Are you interested in money?”

“Always interested in money.”

What happened next just goes to show that you never can tell: It transpired that he was about to take a course in how to trade the stock market. He and his friend had got fed up with waiting for their investments to earn them some money and decided they might as well gamble it. Do you think I had something that might interest him?

Then, just as I was about to pick up the children, Sue called. Sue is someone I last spoke to in January who wanted to leave it six months while she got her cleaning business started. I had left a message in the morning when I walked the dog, asking how things were going.

And do you know, she seemed really pleased I had taken an interest. She still wasn’t ready to start, of course: Her mother has been taken seriously ill and her daughter was doing her A levels. But she wants another call on August 1st. You never know how patient you’ll have to be in this business…

And so I went in to pick up the children and the Maths teacher looked at my badge: “I love the club”, it says – with a big red heart for “love”.

“This is your club,” she said. Needless to say I had told her about it years ago but her husband was always too busy. Now she said: “It’s growing then, this club? I keep hearing about it from other people.”

“Oh yes, it’s growing all right.”

“Well you must call my husband again. I’ll tell him to talk to you. We should be in this club.”

He knew my name. He knew my wife’s name. He knew everything about us – and all I knew about him was that I had never seen him before – but then maybe he hadn’t been wearing a yellow day-glo running jacket last time.

Being somewhat embarrassed by my chronic inability to show enough interest in other people to remember their names (my wife’s diagnosis) I went along with the pantomime, nodding and smiling as we walked side by side along the river path – all the while hoping for some sort of clue. But then he rescued me by saying: “What’s all this Make Money – Save Money”?

Thank heavens for the badge.

“Ah, well,” I began, warming at once to the theme. “That’s my little part time thingy. It’s my major source of income now.”

And then, of course he asked what it was and so I had to tell him… and ask him if he was more interested in saving money or making money… and of course he said “both” and then I had to give him a DVD. But you know what the awful thing was? Because I didn’t like to admit I didn’t know his name, I couldn’t really ask for it. So now I have no way of getting back to him to find out what he liked best!

Never mind I did better with the man in the Mini. The Mini has been making peculiar clonking noises for some months and it seemed like a good idea to get it checked out before a wheel fell off. So I took it round to the BMW garage so that their troubleshooter could drive me round the block with his ear cocked. Yes, there was definitely a clonk, he concluded.

Then on the way back, he pulled up at some traffic lights. I looked out of the window. The woman in the next car was reading the stickers on the side. I knew she was reading because her lips were moving. I wound down the window but at that moment the lights changed.

“Too late,” I said. ” I was going to give her a card. Actually I was thinking of getting the stickers changed. On the new Minis they say: “Save 30% or more on your household bills”.

“Really,” said the troubleshooter. “How do you do that?”

So I had to tell him. But he didn’t think it would work for him: “I expect you have to have your own home.”

Apparently he was renting.

Was that from choice or because of the mortgage famine?

“And the deposit,” he said.

I nodded sympathetically: “Yes, I know what you mean. It’s criminal what they ask now… Tell you what. Maybe I could help: Would you be open to looking at ways of making an additional income alongside what you do already.”

And so he’s got a DVD too – and this time, I’ve got his number.

This sign on the door said: “No reps without an appointment”.

But I had already rung the bell. It never occurred to me that I might be considered a “rep”. I don’t think of myself as selling anything. I just show people how they can save money on what they’ve already bought. Is that the same thing?

I was still wondering about it when the door opened onto a lobby decorated with finger paintings. This was the nursery school in the “light industrial” complex next to the Golf Club where we  hold a training session once a month. Being a conscientious trainer, I always allow an extra hour for the journey and try and find something useful to do when I get there rather than using up the time at the other end. On this occasion I had set myself to go round to all the small businesses to see if they wanted to hear about increasing their profits.

Now all I could do was apologise and say: “I’m not sure if I’m a “rep”. What do you think?”

The young woman who answered the door had no idea. All she could do was call for the manager. This was probably for the best. She could go back to wiping little noses.

“Am I a rep?” I asked the manager.

“I don’t know,” she said. “What do you do?”

Ah well now, there’s a question which demands and answer: “Well I go round local businesses showing them how to increase their profits. It takes me one minute. D’you want to hear it?”

That’s the magic of one minute. Everyone says “yes” – and so did she.

And of course after one minute she wanted to know more and after three minutes, she was giving me the name of the owner and after five we had established that she was open to looking at ways of making money and I had her mobile phone number.

And I still didn’t know whether I was a “rep”.  Never mind, there was someone else I could ask. I walked round the corner and into some sort of electronics company – so modern that they didn’t even have a receptionist; just a phone with a notice above it telling visitors which extension to ring. I rang.

“Hello,” I said brightly when a slightly distracted voice answered. “Are you the proprietor?” People love being asked this as if being mistaken for the proprietor somehow confers some sort of distinction on the lowliest of underlings. He bustled off to find the proprietor.

The proprietor arrived. He had left a customer on the shop floor, he said – and yet he had found the time to meet someone he’d never heard of who had come to show him how to increase his profits – interesting, that…

Well, since I said it would only take a minute, we sat down in the lobby and I told him what we had. Now we have an arrangement that next time I’m up there I’ll go in and collect copies of his bills.

And all I did was ask!

Did you ever hear of the drug dealer who advertised his wares on Friends Reunited? He  didn’t know that one of his old classmates grew up to be a policeman…

So I’m trusting you not to shop me to the council when I tell you that the man in the next car offered me his car park ticket with two hours unexpired. The least I could do was offer him a Piggy card in return.

“What’s this,” he asked – and so I started to tell him. But I hadn’t got too far when he said: “Oh I used to be with you. I had one of your pigs…”

And for all those years he never realised he could make money at it. So now he’s looking at the website and it was only later that I started kicking myself for not signing him up there and then.

But I did need to get to school to pick up my youngest. There was a woman  in the playground wearing a T-shirt with a mobile phone number on the back. So while I was waiting I wrote it down and later on sent this text:  “Please excuse the informal approach. I’ve just seen you details on a T-shirt in the primary school playground. Are you open-minded enough to look at additional ways of making a profit. If “yes” when would be a good time to call for a chat?

Best regards,

John Passmore, local business owner.”

Half an hour later I received this back: “Hi, sounds good to me. What sort of thing do you do? Will be about to talk after 7. Lee”

Well I couldn’t ring him at 7.00 because at the time I had parked outside the church hall where my eldest son does his drama class and while we waited for the doors to open, a man walked up, looked at the writing on the car and said: “What’s this?”

So I had to get out and tell him. This turned out to be hard work because he hardly spoke any English. He was from Romania and worked as a decorator. He was also very keen on saving money.

“Are you serious about saving money?” I asked him.

“Very serious, yes.” he said gravely.

So I signed him up on the back of the car – which,  I suppose, made up for the one I missed earlier.

Then it was after seven O’clock and I rang Lee. His wife is having a baby and so he wants to wait a while before becoming a distributor but I do have an appointment to go and sign him up for the services tomorrow night.

That’s if I’m not in jail over the non-transferrable parking ticket.

She walked into the hotel bar as if someone else owned the place.

In fact it appeared that nobody owned it – I had been waiting for ten minutes to order a drink but the place was deserted.

Part of this had something to do with the hotel chain having gone bust – which explained why they’d changed the name … which in turn explained why my prospect was still driving round and round looking for it.

So I tried to be hospitable: “I don’t think there’s anyone around…”

She jumped slightly, as if being spoken to by a stranger in a hotel bar was embarrassingly un-British. Then she thawed: “I was looking for my friend.”

“I haven’t seen anyone,” I said. “In fact it’s a bit like the Marie Celeste.”

And then she caught sight of my badge: “Save Money, Make Money,” she read aloud. “What’s all that about.”

“Well that’s what I do – save people money or help people make money. Which would you prefer.”

“Well I certainly need some money. I’ve just been made redundant.”

And, as invariablly happens, that was the beginning of the conversation. It turned out that she worked in a school and I just kept telling her about what I had for as long as she was prepared to listen – and she kept listening for a good ten minutes during which time I gave her a DVD and she gave me her phone number.

She might have signed up there and then had it not been for her friend and my prospect both arriving at the same time – which suddenly made the Marie Celeste seem like Piccadilly Circus.

The prospect joined of course. But I wonder whether the nameless hotel will yield two new distributors instead of one.

If the object of the exercise is to talk to people then anything that gets you doing more of that must be a good thing, right?

So it suddenly dawned on me that it was not so bad that I had ended up “doorstepping” my new distributor.

This is a term from my old newspaper days. It means sitting outside someone’s front door in the hope that they will either come out or – if they’re already out, that they will  go in – and on the way, do or say something newsworthy.

The front door in Ilford was slightly different because I was there for Meeting One with my new distributor and he wasn’t home. Also I had driven for more than an hour to get there so there was the potential for feeling miffed.

However I always give people half an hour and so I turned the car round to face their front door and sat there making phone calls. After five minutes someone tapped on my window: Did I know this was a one-way street and I was facing the wrong way?

No I didn’t. Thanks very much. By the way, have a piggy card…

Five minutes later the same thing happened… and then again five minutes after that.

By the time half an hour had gone by, two things had happened to persuade me I should stay for another half an hour: I had given out six cards  and had proper little conversations with the people who had taken them. Also I had called a woman in Croydon who sounded interested and we just happened to have a meeting in Croydon in three hours’ time. So it made sense to hang on while she looked at the website.

As it turned out, she decided against it. But never mind, my new distributor turned up an hour late. You have never seen anyone so apologetic. He didn’t know his wife had made arrangements for them to go his mother-in-law’s. He had raced back as fast as he could. He kept on saying  how sorry he was. In fact we had a really good meeting. You should have seen his eyes shining as he described the kind of life he plans to give his baby daughter (she’s going to be spoiled rotten).

Moral: Patience is a virtue!

For our first meeting my new distributor suggested the “18th Century splendour” of his local country house hotel.

It was closed. We ended up in the Little Chef.

This was not, I hope, an indication of his potential for making money in this business. But it’s strange the way things turn out. We sat there for an hour and a half over cups of tea while I explained things, drew diagrams, told him how the money worked. As the time went by he became more and more excited – which is what usually happens.

The place was empty apart from a handful of staff and from time to time they came by and offered us refills. But apart from that I’m afraid to say I took very little notice of them.

But then, when I came to pay the bill, I asked the man at the till: “Is it a long day for you?”

“Not too bad,” he replied. “I started at one and I finish at nine. It’s only part-time.”

“Really,” I said, aware of my new distributor watching carefully. “What do you do the rest of the time.”

“Nothing. I was made redundant.”

It turned out he had been a production manager but the factory closed. Now he was looking for another job.

“Maybe you’d like to look at what I do…”

And we left him with a DVD. The following day I spent half an hour on the phone with him. He became equally excited. I think I left him fired up enough to watch the DVD (he had the usual excuses for not having watched it).

I’ll let you know if he signs up. It would be nice if he did – if only to prove to my new distributor that opportunities are all around us.

It’s official: The Badge has magic powers.

On my previous post today I said I was wearing the badge even though I was at home on a Sunday morning. In fact I  put it on just so I could say so.

But then what happened? I didn’t take it off and within an hour, I received a call from someone saying he’d had a missed call from me.

This was Harry who owns a couple of shops and is always looking out for new ways of making money. He  told me he would definitely sign up as a distributor… but somehow he never did. Life got in the way. I left a couple of messages and in the end I put him on my “No for now” list.

Well, now it seems to be “yes”. We’re going to get together on Wednesday.

It can be embarrasing, the badge. After all, how many people would feel entirely comfortable wearing a bright yellow proclamation on their lapel: “Save Money… Make Money – Ask Me How!”

Or “Lose weight now!”… or whatever it is your company happens to do.

But there comes a time, after a while, when you’re more embarrassed about not wearing it. That day comes when you realise just what network marketing can do for you.

You see, to begin with – maybe for the first two or three years, you don’t really know.

Oh, you think you know – you’ve read the company compensation plan, you’ve seen the leaders get up at the conventions and talk about their sports cars and homes abroad – but you don’t have that deep-down conviction that it’s going to happen to you.

There will always be a small voice telling you not to make a fool of yourself. There will always be moments when you feel awkward about dropping your business into the conversation. You talk about something else instead – as if, deep down, you believe that the real way to long-term wealth is to have a job like everyone else and this network marketing thing is only a game.

Until one day when you look at your commission statement and it dawns on you that network marketing does work. That this is going to pay you more than any of your  friends who rely on ordinary jobs – and it will pay you in a way they will never get paid… forever.

I have someone in my team who had a badge made which says: “I have the best job in the world”. When people ask him why, he looks them straight in the eye and says: “Because I get paid forever“.

And he puts such passion into the word “forever” that they just have to know more.

It’s as if this is not a badge at all. It’s a sheild and it gives him a magical protection from all the negative people he’s going to meet during his day. It makes him invincible.

On Friday I discovered exactly what he means. I had an appointment fixed for the afternoon – a couple I had met at our “Win-a-Mini” in the garden centre. They said they wanted to enter our free draw. They were happpy to answer my six quick questions – and they ended up saying they would like me to come round and show them how to shrink their household bills by 30% or more. They even said they were serious about shrinking their bills.

And then they got cold feet: “”We’ve thought about it and we don’t want to change,” said the husband on the phone.

Now, I could have let that spoil my day. But I had my badge – and if anyone asks me why I wear that stupid badge, I tell them: “This badge recognises the fact that I’m in partnership with the top-performing company on the premier stock exchange in the world.”

(I’d like to add “and what do you do?” But I want to make friends not enemies!”

One way and another it did’t bother me that the man from the Win-a-Mini had changed his mind. But, more than that, the magic of the badge was still at work. Ten minutes later he called again: “I’ve spoken to a friend and it turns out that she’d a member of your club. She says it’s brilliant. So you can come round after all if you like.”

So I did. And of course it’s the converts who make the most enthusiastic members. We went through our Cashback Challenge and worked out that he would save 40% on his bills – and that was without the extra 20% he reckons he can get when he introduces ten of his friends.

Then it turned out that the retirement he had been talking about doesn’t start until June – and he works as a painter and decorator… and of course B&Q is one of our Cashback partners. Did he think he could buy all his paint there?

I reckon that between now and June there will be some months when my new member joins the 200 who pay nothing at all for their gas, electricity, phone, broadband or mobiles.

And in June he’s going to think about being a distributor as well.

And yes, even though I’m sitting at home on a Sunday morning, I’m wearing my badge. Why not? It makes me feel good.

If you want to know what I get out of this business, read this: It comes from someone I talked to on the phone. She had visted the website, we had talked about how the money works. This is what she wrote:

“Hello, John!

“Just thought I’d thank you again for all the information you’ve given me this morning and how much I appreciate you answering my questions honestly and frankly- it makes a refreshing change to the people I usually deal with!

“I am very interested in this opportunity and impressed with the company, the earnings potential and franchise scheme.  I look forward to finding out more at the conference on the 10th!

“Look forward to meeting you then!  Take care.”

Now isn’t that heartwarming? Isn’t that an anti-dote to all the people who think that if you’re in network marketing, you must go around bludgeoning everyone into listening to you drone on about your opportunity every time there’s a pause in the conversation?

It quite made my day. In fact I was still humming to myself with contentment when a man joined me in the queue at the bank.

“Welcome to the queue,” I said. “Everyone who joins the queue gets a little pink piggy.”

I gave him one.

He looked at it.  He went on looking at it. I said: “Are you interested in money?”

He said: “I’m interested in making it.”

I asked him if he had ten minutes. If he did I’d buy him a coffee and tell him all about it.

So we walked up the street while I told him my story and then we ended up in a little cafe where one old man ate a baked potato very slowly and I told my new friend what I had to offer. He was one of those people who grasped it immediately: “I’ve got an enormous customer base,” he said at one point. “Imagine never having to worry about money ever again!” he breathed to himself.

We were only in there for ten minutes. I was in danger of being late for my music lesson. But that was all he needed. In fact he was so grateful that I’d taken the time that he paid for the coffee.

As I left I paused by the table of the old man with the potato: “I don’t know how much of that you overheard…”

“Well, quite a lot actually. It all sounds very interesting.”

So he got a piggy too.

I love this business.