Death of a Salesman

Did you ever see “Death of a Salesman?”
Sometimes I feel like Willy Loman—the world has stopped buying what I’m trying to sell. Oh, it’s not quite that bad, but it makes you wonder, when you can’t even get a phone call returned.

Is it just me, or has the world gotten a little meaner, a little less considerate? How much effort does it take to return a stinking phone call?

“Hello, you don’t know me, but if you will call me back, I will give you the secret of making you fabulously rich, amazing you friends, and astounding your boss. What have you got to lose by calling me?”
Nothing seems to work.

What really chaps my hide is people who lead you on and on, only to slap a door in your face.

I can handle “no.” What I don’t swallow so easily are the games people want to play:

--Your appointment keeps you waiting 15 minutes, only to tell you “no.”

--Your appointment keeps your second meeting, only to tell you “no,” when a freaking phone call would have saved you a half-hour commute and the cost of gasoline.

--Your appointment keeps you waiting 15 minutes for the second meeting, to tell you “no,” when a phone call would have sufficed. (That way I can curse you when I hang up, as opposed to having to wait to curse you until I’ve reached the parking lot.)

Un-answered e-mails are just as bad.

I send all of mine so that I can confirm they’ve been received. That way there’s no guesswork.

When I don’t hear back, I know for certain I am really being ignored.

I’m developing a new tack on my sales pitches: If you don’t get back to me in 24-hours, any deal is off. I don’t want to hear from you the day after tomorrow, because I will have been long gone by then, baby, shaking the dust off my feet from your lousy doorstep. You want this, act now, because I am done playing the stupid waiting games.

Who knows—I may wind up being the most successful salesman ever, just by being rude, abrasive, and harsh. That seems to be the language most folks understand these days.