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.

Cutting Noses and Lines of Credit

Life sure throws you some funny pitches, sometimes.

Nearly five years ago I was working for a BIG public corporatation, whose name you would readily recognize if I were to tell you.

That's not important.

This company was so big and powerful and profitable that they issued Corporate American Express credit cards to all of their Managers, so that we could more easily do our jobs. If we needed to travel--the line of credit was there to use, and the company would pay the bill directly.

The only catch was, the line of credit was in MY name, not the company's.

So I had to watch them like a hawk to make sure the bills were paid on time.

Shortly after I left that company, I inquired of American Express and my former employer about what to do with the Amex Corporate card issued in my name. American Express said the card was still good--go ahead and continue to use it; I never received a response from my former employer. Guess they were too big and high and mighty to care.

In fact, a couple of years ago, AMEX actually issued an updated card to me.

Fast forward to the present, and I am now finding myself in the interesting position of independant contractor, doing direct business with the former employer. Now they HAVE to treat me nicely, because I am one of their larger customers.

I've been using that Corporate AMEX card to enable large, five-figured transactions with the former employer. In fact, they suggested that I take the position I have assumed in order to retain a certain level of billing (for them).

I am something like a White Knight on a troubled account.

Whatever.

I received a letter in the mail last week telling me that this former employer had requested that American Express cancel the card, and brother, it was dead in nothing flat.

Amazing, don't you think?

Here's a big, fat-cat company that couldn't be troubled a few years ago to properly manage my transition enough to close the credit line then...and for the past years I have been using it, and paying the balances each month.

Now that the company has come to me and asked me to take on the financial risk of a certain project, including being personally responsible for it, they decide, "oops, better snag that AMEX card out there," essentially cutting the line of credit I was using to operate with them.

Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face.

I, of course, immediately contacted American Express, and replaced the line of credit--which was already in my name--with another account.

Why is it that the bigger (and more out of touch) a large company is, the more difficult they like to make it to do business with them?

Blacklisting

I have decided that life is too short for helping those who don't want to be helped.

Henceforth and from now on, I will be trustworthy, loyal, honest and helpful to as many as I can be. I will not tolerate duplicitous behavior, however, and will shun those who say one thing to my face and do the opposite behind my back.

In a recent "exit interview" with the CEO of a former employer, I was told that the executive who had severed my relationship with the company was "not my enemy," nevermind he had the power to retain my position if he wanted.

Not my enemy?
Indeed, who needs enemies with friends like that?

This polecat had the balls to look me in the eye and tell me he was my friend.
Some friend.
Someone lied, someone was not truthful, and my litmus test for honor, virtue and shooting straight just got a lot harder to pass.

So I have now learned to be wary of female executives and Hebrew CEO's (or incarnations of both traits in the same body.)
If that's stereotyping, tough.

My experiences with both types have been less than successful in recent months, and I don't intend to repeat the pain.