Moral dilemmas and kissing the bumper of a Kenworth

            When I was selling liquor I had a territory that covered 3000 miles in a month.  I was responsible for 144 accounts in my territory and covered every type of retailer you could work with in my industry.  I sold ½ pints of cheap vodka in the morning in the inner city and then high end wine in the afternoon at a white linen dining establishment.  It was a mental workout just keeping it all organized in my head.

            Compound this by the fact the next highest number of accounts in my division was under 40.  They drove under 1000 miles a month…and yet we got the same amount of reimbursement for fuel…$100.  But that’s not what this post is about.  And yes, I’m still bitter.

            One of my accounts was almost on the South Dakota border.  It was so far north the owner of the account only needed to see me, in person, once a month.  Everything else was done by phone.  With that kind of understanding I made it a point to show up when I promised them no matter what the conditions.

            One fall day I was up at the bottle shop enjoying a pickle.  (They added extra salt to these gigantic kosher pickles and they were amazing)  The bottle shop was close to a Native American reservation, so a majority of the patrons were natives.  As I was talking to the owner in walked a man who took my totally by surprise.

            The man was walking with a cane and his face looked like Frankenstein.  And by that I mean his face was covered with scars from where they had stitched his face back together at one point.  His eyes were milky white and he spoke with a slur through a mouth that was missing most of the teeth.

            He ordered a pint of vodka and slowly shuffled out.  The owner of the bottle shop said “see you in a bit!”.  Slightly taken back by the shape of the man I asked what the story was.

            Apparently our friend lived a few blocks away.  He was known to drink a lot and one day ran out of booze before he passed out.  So, he walked up to the bottle shop to buy more booze.  On his way out he stumbled into the road in front of the shop.  That’s where he met the front grille of a Kenworth truck hauling grain.

            The impact with the truck stopped his heart.  His body was thrown several yards and the impact with the concrete restarted his heart.  He was rushed to the hospital and was stitched back up, lucky to be alive. 

            After many surgeries and a long recovery process our friend also won his law suit against the trucker and/or trucking company.  When he got back home he threw a huge party…where he got drunk and ran out of booze.

            He staggered up to the bottle shop and bought a 1.75 of vodka this time.  On the way out of the shop and back to his house a pickup truck lost control and hit him with a glancing shot. 

            He also sued this driver and after his recovery he threw yet another party.  At this point I was waiting for the punch line of the joke.  I’m sure you’re doing the same thing reading this right now…or you’re yelling at your monitor. 

            At the party he ran out of booze again.  …I’ll spare you the details but it was a car this time.  And he sued them as well.  Luckily he learned his lesson and didn’t throw a party this time.

            Basically this man had been detonated and rebuilt several times over.  He lived in constant pain and was unable to work.  Luckily he was able to live off the settlements from his accidents and was financially set.

            I asked my customer why he still came up to the shop.  “Oh it takes him an hour and a half to walk up here.”  I was speechless.  “He’s only a few blocks away but the walk slows his drinking down.  That’s why he only buys the pints of vodka.”  Just then another local walked in and commented on the man I was just starting to comprehend. 

            “Hes walking a lot better these days…maybe that car knocked something back into place.”  The man said as I sat there horrified.

            Apparently this man had come to terms with being an alcoholic.  His method of control was to only buy pints of vodka from the store up the street.  His 3 hour round trip and the hours of operation meant he was only there 3 or 4 times a day and didn’t get that drunk.

            This story has been the center of a 10 year struggle in my head.  While I wasn’t directly responsible for this mans shattered life, he was drinking my brand of vodka.  I had no control over what people do with the stuff once I sell it to a retailer but was I “allowed” to feel bad for this guy?

            As the person who sent cases of pints of vodka up each month, assumedly for this one man, was I contributing to this? 

            It was this story and several others that ultimately lead to me leaving the company.  Well…and several other things.  But the stories like this haunt me to this day.

            The only thing I have been able to find comfort in is where my responsibility ended.  There are just as many people who bought my products to celebrate something beautiful in life as there were people destroying theirs. 

            People make THEIR choices in life.  Some make good choices and others make bad ones.  Ultimately if you’re selling a product or products that can potentially ruin lives you need to be ready for this observation.  I made the choice to pay my bills and build my life by using my skills.  In this iteration my skills for creative problem solving and customer relationships made me a damn good liquor rep, but it doesn’t absolve me of the guilt.

A good story and some help from Andrew Jackson

            Sometimes all you need to do is give someone a good story.  This is especially true when you’re dealing with someone who doesn’t seem to understand the situation.  Sadly, this happens a lot in the auto industry.

            When I was working for a local Ford dealership as an Internet Sales Manager I worked with all kinds of people.  No two days were ever the same and it was a great experience if you had the desire to work with people.  Sometimes your customers were amazing and you ended up becoming great personal friends even after the sale.  Other times you wanted to vomit whenever you heard their name.

            One day I got an internet lead on a guy who wanted to buy a Platinum package F-150.  This is a $56,000 truck and usually means one of two things.  You have a kid who’s dreaming big and you’re in for a nightmare of a deal.  Or, you have someone who can afford it and they know exactly what they want.

            Luckily for me this was the latter of the two.  He turned out to be an Airman stationed at the local Air Base and was about to go to flight school.  He wanted to buy the truck before he left for training.  This was an easy transaction because we participated in USAA pricing for active military.  (something I helped push through)

            He showed up and spent 2 hours going over the features of the truck, checking out small details, and driving it.  I could tell this was the right truck for him and he was excited about it.  However, I could see there was something afoot with this deal that wasn’t evident just yet.

            “Ok…I’ll talk to you later then!”  And he walked away toward his car, out of nowhere.  This is the ultimate nightmare for any car sales person.  Your “Up” (prospective customer) is leaving the property without talking to someone else…which meant you’re going to be humiliated publicly by your manager.  I finally stopped him in the middle of the drive and asked where he was going.  “Oh its no big deal…I just need to crunch some numbers and think about it for a day.”

            I’ll spare you the boring details but he ended up leaving after we worked up some numbers.  The entire time he was about as readable as wet toast.  After a while I gave up and let him go, the guy was just done talking.

            After my day off I walked into the dealership to find my buddy Jason had worked with the airman yesterday.  This happens all the time and now both of us are on the line to close the deal to get HALF of the money.  Jason was a pretty stand up guy so I knew he had done everything on the up and up so I didn’t have to worry.  “That dude was hard to read!  He came in all excited and then just kinda went limp…what the hell?”

            Over the next two weeks Jason and I effectively “tag teamed” this guy with emails, phone calls, and yet more visits to the dealership.  Each time the guy just wanted to drool over the truck and learn more about some bizarre detail that nobody ever cares about.  I honestly think he asked if the lug nuts were right hand thread at one point…but I got so zoned out talking to him its all a blur.

            Finally, one day Jason and I have the guy in the dealership and he’s starting to show signs of life.  We decided the best way to handle it was to work the deal together.  After 5 hours of the two of us in a small room with this guy we’re at the end of the deal.  We had stripped out everything and given up more ground on this truck than we thought was possible.  We had so much time invested in this guy we weren’t going to let him go this time.

            Our boss on the final pencil had told me, “if he doesn’t take this deal…get his ass out of here.”  He was as done dealing with this guy as Jason and I were.  At this point Jason and I were looking at a commission of $150 for a truck with an MSRP of $56,000.  Oh yeah…and we had to split the $150 for the last 3 weeks of work.

            “Well this is it…we’re done dealing.  There is nothing left in this deal.  We’re literally at the take it or leave it stage.”  I said.

            “I still feel like I should get something for free”  He said as I grinded my teeth and tried not to come over the table at this guy.  After even more deliberation and long drawn out awkward pauses he finally began to sign his name.  Jason and I glanced at each other in astonishment.

            He started to write the vertical part of an “A” in the first part of his name, then stopped and dropped the pen.  “I’m sorry guys I know $14,000 off the sticker is a hell of a deal but I feel like I need something for free here.  Oil changes or a gift card or something…”  It took everything I had to not slap this guy at this point.

            “Ok…the dealership is done dealing at this point.  Jason and I are all that’s left holding this deal together.  I’ll tell you what…”  I pull out my wallet.  “I’ll give you $20 from my own pocket if you shut up and sign your name.”  With that I pulled out a crisp $20 bill and laid it on the table.  “You’ll be the only guy you know who has the story about a car salesman giving you $20 to take a crazy deal like this.  But I want you to promise me some referrals so I can make my $20 back.”

            Jason was sitting on a file cabinet and had a look on his face that I’ll never forget.  To his credit, he didn’t say a word, which made the gesture even more powerful.

            After some awkward laughter from the guy he signed the paperwork and took the deal.  We got everything done and punted him down the road as quickly as possible.  Jason took the lead while I spewed profanity in the back.

            I realized all this guy wanted was a story.  His own story was pretty bland and other than being a fighter pilot he had nothing.  The truck he bought was his way of stepping up to the image of a fighter pilot.  He worked the deal not based on financials but on building a story he could tell the guys in his unit.

            Jason and I talked later and he was shocked I paid the guy.  When he asked me why I did it I told him.  “We were already making a split mini so the money wasn’t a factor.  However, I’m getting close to a $500 volume bonus for the month and this ½ deal could be the thing that puts me over the top.”  Jason nodded and agreed it was a good call…ballsy…but a good call.  “Plus, we’re finally done with that guy and can spend more time on other customers!”

            I ended up making my volume bonus later that month by…you guessed it…1/2 a car deal.  However the bonus I made was the second tier bonus that paid me a second $500.  As for our customer he left the state and we never heard from him again.  The last contact we had with him was on the Ford Survey they send out on new vehicle purchases.  If you can believe it the guy burned us on the survey because the process took too long.

Horror Story: Why didn't you buy a bigger gun?

     Throughout my time selling liquor on the "North Side" of Omaha I learned a lot of things.  I learned what "getting wet" was (dipping cigarettes in formaldehyde) why they sell roses in glass tubes at gas stations (they're crack pipes) and any number of other interesting facts.  However, one of the backgrounds I had was a familiarity of firearms.  This proved to be useful a few times.
     I was visiting a new account on my territory that was across the street from a large housing project.  It wasn't the type of place you wanted to be around for too long if you weren't from the neighborhood.  When I walked into the corner shop and my eyes adjusted to the light I realized I was in a glass box about 10' by 10'.
    Behind the glass and steel was a little old lady named Lilly.  Behind her there was her entire inventory of wine & spirits, even beer.  If you wanted anything in this store you had to get it handed through a steel drawer.  It was fairly obvious I was in a place that had found a way to deal with excessive theft.
     "Hi, I'm looking for the owner, is that you?"  Lilly slowly reached her hand down under the counter and asked "maybe...who are you and what do you want?".  It dawned on me later that she had probably put her hand on the gun under the counter thinking I was a threat.  "I'm your new liquor rep, I thought I'd drop by and introduce myself."
     In the 30 years Lilly had owned this shop nobody had ever stopped in to see her in person.  She didn't even have a rep calling her on a regular basis to take her order.  Consequently she had only got the most basic level of discounts on her products and her prices were incredibly high.  After talking to her for thirty minutes she finally buzzed me in only after I gave her my drivers license and a business card, verifying who I was.
     Behind the counter it was a mess.  There was inventory everywhere and she didn't have much need to clean up a whole lot since she was the only one back there.  I took 4 steps and saw a .38 Special revolver laying on the counter in plain view.  I could also see the tips of the hollowpoint bullets in the cylinder so I assumed it was loaded.
     "Now why did you go with the 38 instead of a 45?  I keep going back and fourth between the two calibers and cant make up my mind."  Lilly smiled and offered me a seat and a drink.  In between customers for the next 2 hours Lilly told me about everyone she had ever shot at who was robbing her.  She owned the liquor store, the hair salon across the street, and 5 other businesses or rental homes in a 1 block area.  
     "I have to use hollow points because the last guy I hit walked into the ER a few hours later.  I got him 3 times but didn't kill him!"  Lilly went on to explain that at 85 anything bigger than a 38 would possibly break her wrist.  The entire time I sat there and politely listened to her stories. 
     After the shooting stories passed and she realized I wasn't there to rob her I began to tell her how I worked.  If she ordered through me I could get her discounts on her orders if she bought full cases.  She could then keep her prices the same or lower them and sell more. 
     A few months go by and Lilly's average order had doubled in size.  Admittedly she was calling me when ever she thought of it, including 11:30 at night, but she felt more comfortable buying from someone who she knew.
     Too many of the companies out there aren't focused on building a relationship with their customers.  Part of that relationship is providing a face to go with the phone number.  Lilly feared for my safety and insisted I never step foot in her store again.  I reminded her that I was insured and if someone wanted to rob me they'd be stealing my bosses booze or my beat up car with more problems than it was worth!  Still, I made it a point to stop in and say "hello" or talk guns once a quarter.  I didn't get rich selling to Lilly but my products started to sell better at the local bars.  

The power of "Why not"?

Throughout my career I've run into dozens of things my managers told me was impossible.  They range from the very large tasks that you have to take a few runs at to stuff you could fix in an afternoon.  One of the strongest tools I've learned over the years to solve the "impossible" is asking "Why not?".

It sounds simple enough right?  Just ask a question and see what kind of response you get.  Wisdom is knowing that you don't know everything...who why not ask "why not?"?  Honestly, I think people are afraid of the question.  Asking a question like that may convey you're lack of understanding of a situation or the material at hand.  But when you're facing the "impossible" task does anyone have a handle on what you're doing?

Back in my wine and spirit days I had a bar in my territory that was in a rough part of town.  The last time I was there they were demolishing the garage across the street after a car crashed into the wall during a gunfight.  At 6' 3" 350lbs they would walk me, 10 feet, from the door to my car to make sure I was safe...it was a sketchy neighborhood to say the least.

Strangely in this bar they sold a ton of Jagermiester.  They sold more than any other bar for several blocks.  They often ordered cases of Jager just to make it through a holiday weekend.  This was unheard of in the on-premise (bar) side of the business, especially since they didn't have a Jager tap machine.

Jagermiester tap machines are machines that help you print money.  Sidney Frank, the parent company, would sell the tap machine for $300 and then give you 6 bottles free to pay off the tap machine.  If you do some quick math you spent $300 and made twice that selling Jager Bombs.

This bar had refused to buy a tap machine.  Literally turning down someone who was trying to stuff hundreds of dollars into their pocket each night!  When I got the account they told me to not even bother...they'd never get one.

After talking to Frank, the owner, he was reluctant to spend any cash since he was doing just fine with his Jager sales.  He didn't say "NO" to the tap machine but he didn't really seem too excited about it.  One day I finally asked him "why not?".  His answer made my jaw drop.

The bar had a very narrow back bar.  So narrow that you could only go 2 or 3 glasses deep on the counter before you were out of room.  The liquor bottles were on shelves above the counter top or below it.

Franks response to "why not?"...the guy who was crushing the numbers out of a hole in the wall... "I can't fit it on my bar."  He was right the tap machine took up a pretty good sized foot print on the bar,  11" x 17" roughly.  If you put the machine in the "standard" orientation it would hang over the edge and would most likely end up on the floor.

"Frank, have you tried to put it on the bar..sideways?"  nobody, and I mean nobody in the 15 years they had tap machines had EVER considered turning the tap machine 90 degrees so it fit on his bar!  Seriously, at least 30 different people in the business including the owners of the company and representatives from Jagermiester themselves had NEVER considered turning the machine 90 degrees.  It works exactly the same and, in my opinion, has a greater billboarding effect in the bar.

I borrowed a sample machine we had in the warehouse and brought it to the bar to prove to Frank that the machine would not only fit but would work fine...90 degrees from what he was thinking.  We set it up and did a normal Thursday night crowd.  Nothing special and nothing extra from me...except the tap machine.

I hung around for 2 hours and sat at the end of the bar, being eyeballed by everyone in there as if I didn't belong, and watched.  In 2 hours Franks bar did almost 400 shots of Jagermiester.  The state record at the time in 2 hours, at a "mainstream bar" was 140.  I had to bring Frank another case of Jagermiester the next day as he had gone through more than 12 bottles in a single night.

Frank and the crew continued to drink Jagermiester like it was water at the bar.  When the Jager Bus came to town for the college world series his bar was at the top of the list to set up.  Because of the neighborhood we did a short promo with the bus from 4-6 and had the Jager people "chaperoned" by several "local" guys to ensure their safety.

I was the top Jagermiester salesman in the state of Nebraska for that year.  Crushing my previous year with a 250% increase in sales.  When I was given a bottle of Jager and a leather jacket with the logo embroidered on the back I was asked, "what was your secret?".  I held out my hands like I was holding a box and said, "I asked 'why not?'...and I turned the tap machine 90 degrees". 

Horror Story - Open Sewers at the grocery store

Years ago I worked as a wine and spirit distributor.  Coming out of college what kids dream job doesn't involve being the liquor rep at the bar and tripping the life fantastic.  I mean, think of all the free stuff you get!

Well, its true you get a lot of free stuff while you worked for one of these companies.  However you constantly skirted the definition of "theft" every time you took something.  The free "stuff" was for people who consume your products...you technically consume the products too...so why not?

One of my accounts was a run down converted Hinky Dinky grocery store in a rough part of Omaha NE.  My boss took me into the store the first time and told me that he and the last sales guy walked up to a scene where the manager had been stabbed by a customer trying to bounce a check.  He thought it was funny as hell and I became very alert to my surroundings.

We walk in this store and the smell of spoiled milk and cleaning supplies permeated the air.  That kind of smell where you could tell someone was trying to cover a horrible odor but wasn't getting paid enough to really try hard to remove it.  We met the new manager and he showed me the store.

"We get a lot of homeless people and you should never be here on check day, its just too crazy."  I had to act like I had a clue what he was talking about but after a few weeks I understood where he was coming from.  My boss asked how things were going since he took over from the previous, stabbed, manager.

"Things are going great!  We got all the hard liquor locked up so people cant steal it or drink it in the store and we finally capped the open sewer in the back...so no more rats!"  I honestly thought he was joking but he was serious.  The store was a dump and nobody really cared to fix things up because they'd be broken as soon as they fixed it.

The people working there were a group of characters I enjoyed seeing.  They didn't take shit from anyone and called your bluff instantly.  Watching them wrangle drunks and other people trying to scam the counter became a sport.

Realizing this place was a train wreck and was on its last legs I also knew it had a large financial backer.  (corporate)  Nobody had done a reset in the liquor department for decades and it was hard to find the product you were looking for.  So, I offered to get a group of people in and reset the liquor...in the morning...when we were safest.

After the reset the sales increased in the department because people could find the $1.99 Wild Irish Rose liters better than the $15 cream de cacao.  I helped them get a hot feature price on pint and half pint bottles of vodka, which blew out the door.

Before they closed and became another store I made one enormous sale that blew everyone away in my company.  Wild Irish Rose, which is %.01 below the limit for fortified wine (which is taxed higher), came out with a green apple flavor.  They also offered a huge bonus to salespeople for both volume and a distribution.

I approached my non-stabbed (lately) friend at the store and told him he could have first crack at the new "wild eye" flavor.  The next week we delivered 2 pallets of liter bottles to the store.  It was also the first Friday of the month when people came in to cash their assistance checks.  I dragged the pallets out on the floor in front of the liquor department and simply cut the tops off the boxes. 

A sign was placed in the middle of them which read "Wild Irish Rose GREEN APPLE!  Exclusive vendor pricing $1.90 a bottle!"  I hadn't even got the sign centered and the first 2 or 3 boxes were empty.  The following Monday he placed another order to replace the 2 pallets (1 pallet = 72 boxes of 12 bottles each) which were gone by mid day Sunday.

Lesson learned?  Regardless of the situation there is money to be made.  While I didn't enjoy the idea of people spending money on booze rather than food or clothing its a reality in certain parts of the world.  There was nothing I could do to sway that opinion and effect a change for the hundreds of people buying my products.  So, if they're going to buy it anyway...why not buy it from me?

By working with the manager and gaining his trust I was able to ask what may have been the largest liquor order in the stores history.  The sale pricing made them money in volume but the pricing had never been seen by their customers.  The "exclusive" phrasing on the sign, while true for a very short period of time, created a sense of urgency.  Customers who liked it told their friends and brought in new business to the store.


Going forward I was the "go to" liquor rep when it came to new products and support with advertising prices.  I was also able to ask for favors with meeting sales quotas by shipping in a few cases here and there when needed. 

What exactly is a "Sales Ronin"?

Trying to find a unique name for a blog dealing with the subjects I'd like to talk about is a challenge.  Years ago I fell in love with the story of the 47 Ronin.  (before the movie came out)  I came very close to naming my business development firm Ronin but was talked out of it by a consultant I knew.

The story of the 47 Ronin is pretty powerful and worth doing your own research.  However, here is the cliff notes version. 

A great master was teaching a pupil who was the son of a lord.  The pupil was insolent to the master and the master struck him.  As punishment the master was ordered to commit Sepiku (ritualistic self disemboweling).  The masters 47 Samurai became Ronin, master-less samurai.  The lord feared the retaliation of the Ronin so he ordered them hunted down and tripled the guard on his home.  The Ronin went into hiding for 2 years.  Posing as everything from farmers, innkeepers, drunks, vagrants etc.  Two years later the Ronin unearthed their weapons and raided the lords home at night.  They cut off his head and placed it on the grave of their beloved master.  All 47 Ronin turned themselves in and committed Sepiku in keeping with the Bushido order.

So why name a blog after this gory tale from ancient Japan?  The story of the 47 Ronin is a story of loyalty and honor at all costs.  In my sales career I've often felt like these Samurai.  Highly trained and a master of my own environment.  I adapted and overcame virtually every obstacle put in front of me.

However, after pouring my heart and soul into my work I found myself without a company that supported me.  I was turned out much like the Ronin were when their master was killed.  So I find myself walking the earth with a great depth of skills and training but alas...no master to work for.

When I interview with a company the recruiter is usually amazed at the wide range of things I've done in my career.  As a man with a BA from an Art School I've sold everything from liquor to stocks and bonds.  Becoming a "social chameleon" and adapting everything about me to help me sell and market myself better to the audience at hand.

So why, after all this time, start a blog?  For years I dismissed the idea that anything of real value can come from a blog.  Lets face it, you don't need to be qualified in anyway to start a blog and post it for the world to see.  However, I recently decided that as a "Sales Ronin" I have a myriad of experiences and lessons learned that may help someone else.  I have the unique position of becoming the teacher for the sales Samurai of the future.

In this blog I'll cover anything and everything I know about sales and marketing.  I'll do my best to keep it light and worth the read.  At the very least I'll get this material out of my mind and on paper for when I go senile in years to come.

Hope you enjoy it!

- Justin