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Posts Tagged ‘network marketing’

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.”

Everyone had gone to the Italian Market in the car park.

Well, everyone except Number One son who had gone round to his friend Sam to see about the end of the world (they play Warhammer) and Number Two son who was sailing at Waldringfield.

So that left just me and the dog – and we went for a long walk in the mud.

We took the piggies, of course – the little pig-shaped business cards which get given to everyone we pass. And on a bright sunny Sunday afternoon everyone took them and said “thanks”.

It was only towards the end of the walk when the people without wellies had been stopped by the incoming tide and we emerged alone onto the creek path that I fell into what Victorian novellists would have called “a reverie”.

I had attended an all-day training session on Friday during which someone had come up with the idea of getting car wash companies to offer their customers our “Win-a-Mini” forms and then paying the Car Wash boss for everyone who signs up. I thought of taking it a stage further and making up little starter packs to hand out to every small trader I could find.

It was while I was thinking this and the word “Eureka” was forming on my lips that someone said: “Good afternoon.”

There was someone on the path after all – and this is where five years in Network Marketing pays off. Without even thinking about it, I said: “Anyone who says ‘Good Afternoon’ to strangers on a path gets a pink pig…. It’s about money…. Are you interested in money?”

“Well I’m always interested in money.”

“Making it or saving it?”

“Well making it.”

“Right then,” I said, settling to my task. “What I suggest is I send you an email with some information. Would you like that?”

He paused. “Well I don’t have much time.”

“How long does it take to tell me your email address?”

“Well not long at all really.”

And guess what, it didn’t – and now he has an invitation to our open evening at the Holiday Inn, London Road, Ipswich, IP2 0AU on Tuesday at 7.30p.m.

And so do you!

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!

What a terrible shock it is to make a new discovery about yourself. For instance the note on my desk from my wife simply said “Richard” and the name of the newsagent’s shop. So what was my immediate thought? “I haven’t paid the paper bill again.” So what do I do? I put it in the “to do” pile (which of course never gets done.)

Would I have been more keen to do something if the note had said: “This person called round to sign up as a distributor”.

Because that’s what the note meant.

The note also taught another valuable lesson:  The “no for now” rule.

Let’s wind back at least a year. Neither Richard nor I am quite sure how long it is since I went in to pay the paper bill (I do sometimes) and handed him a card saying something like “Have a look at this, it’s about money” – and a couple of days later, he rang and we sat down to look at the business and he didn’t join. “I haven’t got the time” was his excuse.

Of course I told him we we all had the same amount of time – him, me, Richard Branson and the man who lives in the cardboard box outside the shoe shop. Finding more time, I pontificated, was simply a matter of making better choices about how to spend the time we do have…

But he knew his own mind and in this business we’re only looking for volunteers.

As I say that was at least a year ago. Then suddenly here he is sitting in my room saying: “Now I’ve got masses of time. In fact I’m getting bored and I thought – now that’s something I could do.”

And he joined – and hardly was he out of the door, his fast-start pack under his arm to go back to work and ask if he could have a day off for his training than I picked up my messages and one said: “My neighbour Bob – I forget his surname – says I should call you about saving money on my energy bills.”

Now that is the kind of message I can understand…

Have you noticed what an emotional business this is?

There hasn’t been a post for the last 48 hours because the author has been on an emotional roller coaster and really not fit for publication.

Let me explain: In my company we are now at the end of a 90 day promotion. All we had to do was introduce 12 members to the club (just one a week) and we would receive a £200 bonus. Small beer in monetary terms but vitally important if we are to demonstrate to our teams that it can be done – after all I did one a week for a year to get on the company cruise: Of course it can be done.

And I had done it this time. In fact I had 14 people signed up and the promise of one more who said she would definitely do it online by midnight – enough of a safety margin, I decided.

This way why I set off with a light heart on Monday for a leadership development training session to learn how to grow my business faster. These sessions have gone through a bit of a transformation lately as new people have blasted their way through the pay plan with ideas and systems which have quite simply “blown this business apart”.  For five hours I sat there thinking: “Why don’t I do that?”

I hit the road back at the end of it convinced I was going to take my business to a new level.

Then several things happened at once: A lorry turned sideways on the A14 and fell over. Then two of my 14 new members cancelled – and, as I was to discover later, the friend who had promised to sign up online had found something more important to do. Worst of all, I still had a mass of emails to write, the dog to walk, I needed to eat or faint … and I really should have written the blog.

Except there wasn’t much to write. I had given out some of the piggies and a couple of Independence newspapers but the plan had been that the bulk of them would be shifted on the way home – instead of which I spent most of the time motionless, sending texts to builders vans in the next lane. At 1.30 in the morning, I considered going out to stuff things through letterboxes but decided that (a) I was just too tired and (b) I would probably get arrested.

So I left it until today: I marked up my business development plan with noughts in the relevant boxes and told myself I would do better.

And this I did. First I went into Woodbridge for an appointment with another solicitor (I seem to specialise in solicitors) who wanted to sign up as quickly as possible – we did it in 15 minutes complete with a discussion about what he was going to say about the company when he brings us up at the partners meeting. Next I shifted  the rest of yesterday’s piggies, Independence newspapers and DVDs which took another 20 minutes and incidentally put a couple of window cleaners onto the prospect list.

Then it was home in time for the piano tuner (the new one since I didn’t  see the point in keeping on the old one if he didn’t want to support my business the way I was supporting his). This one took a DVD for his wife who’s a teacher and really would rather not be.

By the time I really got started on the day’s activity it was three O’clock in the afternooon. But on the other hand, I was in Ipswich. I shifted all 49 cards, ffive DVDs and 10 Independences in an hour. At least half the piggies disappeared at the door to the shopping precinct in about five minutes flat.

That left me with one DVD and just one piggy.

It’s funny when you’re down to one. The last one seems to be gold-plated. You don’t feel like giving it to just anyone.

I scanned the crowd, dismissing one person after another as too old, too young, too scruffy…

And then I saw a Sikh. Now this may be a huge and possibly racist generalisation but has anyone ever met a lazy Sikh? I haven’t.  I gave him a card. I said: “It’s all about money. .It’s absolutely brilliant.”

He looked.

I went on: “Are you interested in money?”

“Always interested in money.”

“Well I can’t tell you about it here. I could give you some more information or if you’ve got ten minutes, I could buy you a coffee and show it to you now.”

He said he didn’t mind so we went to Starbucks and had two gingerbread lattes with cream. You have to drink them with a spoon…

And there I practised what we had learned on the leadership development course. I got him to tell me awhat he wanted while I sat and nodded, my tongue firmly between my teeth.  What he wanted was Financial Freedom. At the moment he was chained to his convenience store. He hadn’t been back to India for three years. He couldn’t see any end to it. When he looked at the future he saw himself working until he died.

I showed him how the money worked and asked him what difference that would make to his life. I could hardly catch his reply. It was as if I had packed all the answers to all his problems into a small cardboard box and casually pushed it across the table between the empty latte mugs.

It would be convenient to end this story by saying that he signed up there and then. However not a lot of people do get out their credit card for total strangers who accost them in the street. But will he watch the DVD? Will he come to the opportunity meeting on Thursday.

We shall see.

The elderly gentleman on the phone had been talking to his son. This is always a bad sign. The young are predisposed to talking the old out of doing anything new.

This is basic psychology – all of us are programmed by nature to protect the ones we love – and the best way we can do that is to protect them from the unknown. Or in other words stop them signing up for my club!

Of course it was my fault. I had asked for referrals,  the old boy had given me his son’s phone number and I had written in my welcome letter: “And please be sure to phone Chris and warn him I’ll be calling.”

You can imagine the coversation: “By the way, I’ve joined this club…”

“Dad, what have you done now?”

So, hearing all this, I said to the old chap. “Tell you what, why don’t I ring your son and explain it.”

Which is what I did – and we left it that Chris was going to phone the office and join up as well – which would give his parents an extra discount.

So – not really such bad news after all…

In fact, triumph out of adversity – I hope.

And talking of adversity, how on earth was I going to give out 50 piggies by the end of the day? I had a seminar to go to over lunchtime and then a networking event straight afterwards. I could have said: “Well I’m just too busy doing other useful things”. However the great benefit of writing a blog is that I’m accountable. In fact at the seminar I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen for ages and he mentioned that he read it – I didn’t even have to prompt him. This really made my day (and seeing people leaving comments makes my day too).

Anyway, there I was walking back to the car and scouring the empty streets for someone to take a piggy from me.

I turned off down a side street. Then another…

And then I found myself in Cardinal Park. This is the modern version of a city-centre park: A 14-screen cinema, half a dozen huge chain restaurants and a car park – and all apparently deserted at 23.30 in the afternoon.

But wait… there was someone in Nando’s.

I nipped in. I whipped round the tables.

“Have one of these. It’s about money. … Look, I won’t disturb you. I’ll just give you one of these. It’s about money….”

And at a table for six: “Hey, would you like to pass these around. It’s about money…”

I was out of there before the manager even knew I hadn’t come for lunch.

It occurred to me, as I moved on to Frankie and Benny’s that this was advanced stuff. When I started giving out five a day and felt really nervous about it, I would have died at the prospect of being so brazen. But isn’t it amazing what you can do in small steps.

As one of my company’s great trainers once said to me: “Are you the sort of person who deserves to earn £50,000 a year in network marketing? Of course not. If you were, you would be. But can you become the sort of person who deserves to earn £50,000 a year in network marketing? Absolutely. All you have to do is learn what to do and do it.”

And did he mention passing exams or taking out a second mortgage to invest in the business?