The Clintonian Reflex

August 17, 1998

In the world of sales, lying is commonplace. That's not surprising. What is surprising is that it is the customers who do most of the lying.

I do not lie on sales calls. I may commit acts of omission, but I never sin by an act of commission. For example, I may tell a potential customer that they can make free changes to their website every month, but I won't mention--unless they ask--that those changes are limited to one photograph and 100 words of text per month. Do I feel great about that? No. Do I feel really bad about that? No.

But like I said, it is the customers--or potential customers--who do most of the lying. People don't like salesmen and they'll say anything to get rid of one. One of the most common lies is "I'll have to check with my partner." This comes up at the end of sales call, at the point where I'm asking them if they'd like to go ahead and sign up with us.

"Well" they begin, "I really like what I've seen here, but I'm gonna have to go over it with my partner."

Every restaurant and bar owner in this city seems to have a partner who's never around. No decision can be made before consulting with that silent, absent partner.

The other day, I was in a BBQ place in the East Village selling my stuff. At the end, I asked the guy, "So, do you think you want to go ahead and sign up?"

"Well" the guy began (and I knew exactly what he was going to say), "I really like what I've seen. The Internet is definitely a place I know we need to be. My partner, though, is a different story. Let me talk it over with him and I'll get back to you."

When a potential customer says, "I'll get back to you" that's code for, "'I'm not interested, so get out." It's a blow off.

Like our President, I get blown off a lot. I've been hearing that lame partner excuse almost every day since I started selling back in January. But on that afternoon, I decided enough was enough. When the guy at the BBQ place lied to me, I tried a new approach.

"I completely understand that you need to talk it over with your partner" I said. "Why don't I come back so I can give him the same presentation I gave you. What's your partners name?" I asked.

The man stared at me blankly.

I stared back.

We stared at each other like that for at least five, long, painful seconds. It was dead quiet.

I could tell he was searching for a name that didn't exist. He'd lied to me and I'd called him on it.

"There is no partner, is there?" I said in a low, slow, steady voice.

The man stared for a moment more, then broke out laughing. "No there's not" he confessed, "you got me, you sonofabitch."

After some more laughing, he signed the contract.

Never, Never, Never Quit,

Broadway Jim Jenkins

		The Clintonian Reflex
		August 17, 1998 In the world of sales, lying is commonplace. That's not surprising. What is surprising is that it is the customers who do most of the lying. I do not lie on sales calls. I may commit acts of omission, but I never sin by an act of commission. For example, I may tell a potential customer that they can make free changes to their website every month, but I won't mention--unless they ask--that those changes are limited to one photograph and 100 words of text per month. Do I feel great about that? No. Do I feel really bad about that? No. But like I said, it is the customers--or potential customers--who do most of the lying. People don't like salesmen and they'll say anything to get rid of one. One of the most common lies is "I'll have to check with my partner." This comes up at the end of sales call, at the point where I'm asking them if they'd like to go ahead and sign up with us. "Well" they begin, "I really like what I've seen here, but I'm gonna have to go over it with my partner." Every restaurant and bar owner in this city seems to have a partner who's never around. No decision can be made before consulting with that silent, absent partner. The other day, I was in a BBQ place in the East Village selling my stuff. At the end, I asked the guy, "So, do you think you want to go ahead and sign up?" "Well" the guy began (and I knew exactly what he was going to say), "I really like what I've seen. The Internet is definitely a place I know we need to be. My partner, though, is a different story. Let me talk it over with him and I'll get back to you." When a potential customer says, "I'll get back to you" that's code for, "'I'm not interested, so get out." It's a blow off. Like our President, I get blown off a lot. I've been hearing that lame partner excuse almost every day since I started selling back in January. But on that afternoon, I decided enough was enough. When the guy at the BBQ place lied to me, I tried a new approach. "I completely understand that you need to talk it over with your partner" I said. "Why don't I come back so I can give him the same presentation I gave you. What's your partners name?" I asked. The man stared at me blankly. I stared back. We stared at each other like that for at least five, long, painful seconds. It was dead quiet. I could tell he was searching for a name that didn't exist. He'd lied to me and I'd called him on it. "There is no partner, is there?" I said in a low, slow, steady voice. The man stared for a moment more, then broke out laughing. "No there's not" he confessed, "you got me, you sonofabitch." After some more laughing, he signed the contract. Never, Never, Never Quit, Broadway Jim Jenkins