Before I started up RT, I attended a free local “Introduction to Business” type course, and learned the sales mantra – people buy from people. (My husband who had worked in sales all his life apparently already knew this, but as someone who was new to the sales world, this phrase stuck with me). If this is indeed the case, the numpty who cold-called me this week to try to get me interested in making money through the Government’s new green energy scheme, but who somehow lost his way and ended up insulting me and then hanging up, would need a personality transplant if he hoped to meet his targets.
I was minding my own business on Thursday morning, getting on with my day with tiny-RT, when the phone goes. The thought briefly flitted through my mind – “no good can come from answering the landline during the day” but I never could resist a ringing telephone, so I answered. He immediately leapt into his diatribe about the scheme, barely pausing for breath even after his opening line of “Good morning, how are you today?”; therefore I was unable to interject and let him know I was not now, nor would I ever be, interested in any offer a stranger makes to me completely out of the blue on the phone, until a good 60 seconds after the phone call started. Eventually, the time did come when he decided to include me in the conversation (“this IS something you’d be interested in doing isn’t it?!”), at which point I thanked him but said I wasn’t interested. (Mini-RT was getting grizzly and I was missing Homes Under the Hammer). However, rather than accepting this, he asked incredulously “you’re not interested in getting free electricity???”. His tone immediately got my back up; it was right up there with the charity muggers who accost you on the street and say “have you got 2 minutes to spare for the children / animals / rainforests?” – the insinuation being that if for any reason you don’t, you’re a heartless human being with no soul, regardless of any existing charity involvement you may have. But anyway, he was affronted by my apparent rejection of a freebie, so I responded (still politely), “no thank you, I’m not interested and I don’t have to justify to you why I’m not interested”. To which he responded with… “Well, you’re not very bright then are you?”. And hung up.
Needless to say what followed from my end (after 10 seconds of staring at the receiver, mouth open) was a swift phone call back to the company (thank you 1471) with a few choice words which left the manager in no doubt of my feelings on the call I’d just received. The manager (who I’m not convinced wasn’t the same gentleman who’d called me in the first place but anyway) said he would investigate and call me back within 24 hours to let me know the outcome. Predictably, I’ve not heard anything further, but that’s by the by.
The reason I bring it up is it made me think about the whole sales culture. As I’ve mentioned, by hubby has worked in sales his whole life, but when we met, I was surprised as he doesn’t come across as pushy / aggressive / smarmy or any of the other adjectives I previously linked to the sales industry. Yet he’s successful in his job and made me see that you can be involved in sales and not be a complete… pain. So when we started RT, I was conscious to be as gentle and sensitive as I could be when it came to the dreaded world of “selling”. This isn’t to say I don’t want to shout from the rooftops about our products or our sellers or the South West in general, but there is a big difference in giving people all the information they need and leaving them to make their decision at their own pace, and beating them into submission with sales patter.
So thank you Mr Hard-Sell. You’ve reminded me, before we embark on the season of Christmas fairs which we start next week in Exeter, of the importance of responsible selling. We can’t wait to meet lots of customers at all the upcoming fairs, but we’ll never be pushy. Or rude. Or call you thick.