(Continued from July 3rd 2010) I reached into my bag and brought out five cartons of Philip Morris and 500 Flat 50's. I started my presentation and the dealer interrupted with, "What else do you want to sell?" He bought my entire stock, built the display himself, asked for two posters and went outside and put them up with paste, a perfect angle shot. That did it. It was the most difficult job in my life to hold back the tears. I thanked the dealer and went out. It was a little after 2:00 p.m. and my bag was empty. However, the sale did not cheer me because he had bought, I did not sell. After five minutes of thinking "Why" , I returned and asked the dealer why he bought. the Philip Morris from me. He stated that he had watched me through this window while I was making up my mind to come i, said I looked real "beat" and in need of a lift, so when I came in and put those cigarettes on the counter and started to talk, he could not help but try to cheer me. I then noted that he took the flat 50's and opened them up--again. "Why?". "For the one cent sales" was the answer--a new one on me.
That sale did the trick. I bought five cartons of Philip Morris back from the dealer and a carton of Flat 50's, with the provision that if I did not sell them he would buy them from me--again. From 2:30-6:30 p.m. I not only sold the cigarettes but also sold, displayed and merchandised 5 additional cigarettes from this same dealer since there was no jobber in the area, and he called a jobber and ordered 10 Philip Morris for delivery to him the next morning. A most unforgettable sale.
Like my grandfather, I am also in sales and feel a special connection to the man who would bring Marlboro out west. He to me was always confident, he was a man who could sell anything. He was also a friend of many business men in the Denver area. I looked up to my grandfather as a hero. But all heroes have to start somewhere. This note written by my grandfather illustrates that the first steps are always the toughest. I have been at that frustration point, where all I saw was failure. It is comforting to know that a man loved by many had to start somewhere as well.
I will have this article in two parts, one part today, and the other part will be published tomorrow, enjoy:
"I Remember the Sale"
By: Alexander Rothbard
The sale I'll never forget happened a long time ago. It was my third day as a Philip Morris salesman. The first two days were a training period, third day I was on my own.
The assignment slip gave a list of the streets (in a strange city, I asked a million questions as to how to reach my destination. During the first subway ride I kept thinking and planning how I was really going to sell Philip Morris.
I analyzed my approach, presentation and closing but still no sale. About 2:00 in the afternoon I hit low ebb--all the enthusiasm gone, my hopes and dreams shattered. All I could see was failure. The next stop was a tobacco shop. I must have looked at the store for 10 minutes, actually fearing another refusal. Well it had to be and I was desperate. I walked in and gave no introduction other than I was from the Philip Morris Company. (Continued Tomorrow)
Poetry Link: Grandfather
