by John Passmore
Just back from the COP and we had 88 people in the room. So all the phone calls, all the texts and emails paid off.
And my friend Nick the mortgage advisor turned up as my guest, true to his word. So as of tomorrow it’s back to the six a day.
The funny thing is that, even if you’re not planning to do six on a particular day, the effect of having done it for so long spills over.
So this morning I had two people ringing me saying they’d received texts from me some days ago and what was it all about.
Then, driving to the COP one of the people I’d invited rang to ask what it was all about – it seems we’d spoken so long ago he’d forgotten. So even though, technically speaking, he wasn’t hearing it for the first time, I reckon that counts.
And then, in the bar afterwards, I suddenly had a thought: More than 60 distributors in the room, I wonder if anyone had given a card to the barmaid?
“Has anyone told you what we’re all here for?” I asked her.
-No
“You mean, nobody’s given you a card? You’d better have mine. In fact, better than that, why don’t I tell you what we’re doing. It takes 30 seconds. Would you like to hear it?”
So now she’d got a card and I’ve got her name, her email address and her phone number.
Now, I know it would be really tiresome if all 60 of us had pressed our cards on the poor girl. But what seems to have happened is that every single one of us had assumed that somebody else had.
Well, now somebody has. I do hope she goes on to make it to Marketing Director. It will be a great story.
Tuesday, 30 June 2009
The Day Before The COP
by John Passmore
The day before the COP and the 30-second-thing has given way to calling everyone on the list and reminding them we have a meeting.
Many of these people have had this reminder many times before. Several of them have other things that occupy their time.
But here’s the point: Very, very few of them say they’re not interested – that I’m pestering them. Almost all of them say: “Let me know when the next one’s coming up.”
And I do. There was a time when I could get quite shirty and say: “Is whatever you’re planning to do instead going to make you £50,000 a year?”
I’ve now given up this tactic. Why? Because it’s not going to persuade them to come – and also it gives the impression that to do this business, you have to go around picking fights with people…
So now I say: “That’s OK, I’ll let you know when the next one’s coming up.”
They’re so thrilled to be let off the hook that they reply: “Yes, please do.”
Which means I’m only doing what people have asked me to do. This makes me feel a whole lot more relaxed when I do call them again. For instance I just called a car valeter. I first spoke to on June 17th 2008. My notes tell me: “Text. Car valeter. Half Martini and sent to website.”
And then, three months later: “Lots of no reply”.
Yet now I call him and say: “Remember you were looking at making an extra income with TelecomPlus. Well, I just called to say we’re having a meeting on Tuesday if you’re free.”
And guess what, HE asked ME for the time and the address of the venue. That’s always a good sign. What do you suppose has happened in his life between September last year and now? I have no idea. But what I do know is that circumstances change and in everybody’s life there is going to be some point which is the right time for this business.
And here’s a cautionary tale. At lunchtime I popped into the Tesco café to meet someone who had responded to a text. As an experiment, I hadn’t told him anything about it. He received a text asking if he was interested in extra money and I said: “What I suggest we do is meet up at the café in Tesco’s at 1.15 on Monday.”
What’s more he turned up as promised. In return for his commitment, I had taken the trouble to put on a suit.
So, I bought him a cappuccino and started off on my the 30 second thing.
Quick as a flash: “Is this Utility Warehouse?” he asked.
It turned out he was a member already but the distributor who signed him up had never explained the business potential. Instead he just gave his new customer a DVD – which, naturally, the customer had not watched.
That distributor might be interested to know that his customer not only intends to come to the COP but asked if he can bring a friend.
When I said: “Of course you can, we like to see lots of friends,” he said: “Can I bring two?”
The day before the COP and the 30-second-thing has given way to calling everyone on the list and reminding them we have a meeting.
Many of these people have had this reminder many times before. Several of them have other things that occupy their time.
But here’s the point: Very, very few of them say they’re not interested – that I’m pestering them. Almost all of them say: “Let me know when the next one’s coming up.”
And I do. There was a time when I could get quite shirty and say: “Is whatever you’re planning to do instead going to make you £50,000 a year?”
I’ve now given up this tactic. Why? Because it’s not going to persuade them to come – and also it gives the impression that to do this business, you have to go around picking fights with people…
So now I say: “That’s OK, I’ll let you know when the next one’s coming up.”
They’re so thrilled to be let off the hook that they reply: “Yes, please do.”
Which means I’m only doing what people have asked me to do. This makes me feel a whole lot more relaxed when I do call them again. For instance I just called a car valeter. I first spoke to on June 17th 2008. My notes tell me: “Text. Car valeter. Half Martini and sent to website.”
And then, three months later: “Lots of no reply”.
Yet now I call him and say: “Remember you were looking at making an extra income with TelecomPlus. Well, I just called to say we’re having a meeting on Tuesday if you’re free.”
And guess what, HE asked ME for the time and the address of the venue. That’s always a good sign. What do you suppose has happened in his life between September last year and now? I have no idea. But what I do know is that circumstances change and in everybody’s life there is going to be some point which is the right time for this business.
And here’s a cautionary tale. At lunchtime I popped into the Tesco café to meet someone who had responded to a text. As an experiment, I hadn’t told him anything about it. He received a text asking if he was interested in extra money and I said: “What I suggest we do is meet up at the café in Tesco’s at 1.15 on Monday.”
What’s more he turned up as promised. In return for his commitment, I had taken the trouble to put on a suit.
So, I bought him a cappuccino and started off on my the 30 second thing.
Quick as a flash: “Is this Utility Warehouse?” he asked.
It turned out he was a member already but the distributor who signed him up had never explained the business potential. Instead he just gave his new customer a DVD – which, naturally, the customer had not watched.
That distributor might be interested to know that his customer not only intends to come to the COP but asked if he can bring a friend.
When I said: “Of course you can, we like to see lots of friends,” he said: “Can I bring two?”
Friday, 26 June 2009
The Chaos Factor
by John Passmore
They say that you need to get organised to get the best out of this business.
I always knew there had to be a reason why I’m not a superstar. But on the other hand today proves that chaos can be profitable. It all came to a head at about four O’clock. I had got all this way through the day and said my 30 second thing to only one person.
This never happens; usually opportunities present themselves all over the place. But today they just didn’t. I sent texts – nobody replied. I flashed my badge around – nobody paid any attention.
By the time the children came home from school and we were into the busy beginning of the weekend, it seemed I was never going to make it.
And then: a blessing in the shape of a pot of yoghurt – or rather a missing pot of yoghurt. I needed one to start the next culture.
Dashing into town I grabbed a pot off the shelf, just managed to pay for it with the last of my small change and then decided I ought to go to the bank if I was going to buy any ice creams in the Theatre this evening.
For some reason it took ages for the machine to hand over the money. I turned to the man behind me: “I think they’re running out of money. It’s taking forever.”
He doubted it. They’d just filled it up. That was when I noticed the HSBC logo on his shirt.
“Ah you work here,” I said as if a light had been turned on. “You must know all about money. Would you like to hear how you can make some more of it. It takes me 30 seconds to tell you?”
“OK,” he said.
So I did.
Well two is better than one for a day’s score.
But no sooner was I home than the chaos factor went to work again. This time in the shape of small brown loaf – or on this occasion a missing small brown loaf. This was what our guests would need when they came to stay in The Studio (as we call the garage we converted to up-market B&B).
Volunteering once more, I leapt back on the bike and back to town. This time I thrust my Win a Mini clipboard into my rucksack. The way I saw it: I had ten minutes to do three quick presentations.
But life doesn’t go on rails. The first person I spoke to turned out to be really, really interested. With BT bills of £100 a quarter, that was hardly surprising. So what was I to do? I could hardly tell her I couldn’t tell her any more because I had to go and talk to two other people. ..
So I showed her Which? Magazine. I talked about her calls to Italy and Turkey and her bills from Eon and British Gas. All the while I felt myself hopping up and down like a small boy with somewhere more important to be.
When she started talking about an appointment, it became almost too painful to bear.
This was ridiculous, I told myself. This six-a-day thing is only a device to get appointments. It isn’t set in stone – and if the appointment is there for the making…
So then we spent what seemed like another five minutes with our diaries, going through every day for the next two weeks. What we’ve ended up with is an arrangement to meet at lunchtime in Stowmarket on July 9th and she’s going to bring her bills.
And guess what? When I turned my phone back on after the Theatre, there was this plaintive message from a man called Tom who said I’d sent him a text about making money. He says he’s going to ring me tomorrow.
They say that you need to get organised to get the best out of this business.
I always knew there had to be a reason why I’m not a superstar. But on the other hand today proves that chaos can be profitable. It all came to a head at about four O’clock. I had got all this way through the day and said my 30 second thing to only one person.
This never happens; usually opportunities present themselves all over the place. But today they just didn’t. I sent texts – nobody replied. I flashed my badge around – nobody paid any attention.
By the time the children came home from school and we were into the busy beginning of the weekend, it seemed I was never going to make it.
And then: a blessing in the shape of a pot of yoghurt – or rather a missing pot of yoghurt. I needed one to start the next culture.
Dashing into town I grabbed a pot off the shelf, just managed to pay for it with the last of my small change and then decided I ought to go to the bank if I was going to buy any ice creams in the Theatre this evening.
For some reason it took ages for the machine to hand over the money. I turned to the man behind me: “I think they’re running out of money. It’s taking forever.”
He doubted it. They’d just filled it up. That was when I noticed the HSBC logo on his shirt.
“Ah you work here,” I said as if a light had been turned on. “You must know all about money. Would you like to hear how you can make some more of it. It takes me 30 seconds to tell you?”
“OK,” he said.
So I did.
Well two is better than one for a day’s score.
But no sooner was I home than the chaos factor went to work again. This time in the shape of small brown loaf – or on this occasion a missing small brown loaf. This was what our guests would need when they came to stay in The Studio (as we call the garage we converted to up-market B&B).
Volunteering once more, I leapt back on the bike and back to town. This time I thrust my Win a Mini clipboard into my rucksack. The way I saw it: I had ten minutes to do three quick presentations.
But life doesn’t go on rails. The first person I spoke to turned out to be really, really interested. With BT bills of £100 a quarter, that was hardly surprising. So what was I to do? I could hardly tell her I couldn’t tell her any more because I had to go and talk to two other people. ..
So I showed her Which? Magazine. I talked about her calls to Italy and Turkey and her bills from Eon and British Gas. All the while I felt myself hopping up and down like a small boy with somewhere more important to be.
When she started talking about an appointment, it became almost too painful to bear.
This was ridiculous, I told myself. This six-a-day thing is only a device to get appointments. It isn’t set in stone – and if the appointment is there for the making…
So then we spent what seemed like another five minutes with our diaries, going through every day for the next two weeks. What we’ve ended up with is an arrangement to meet at lunchtime in Stowmarket on July 9th and she’s going to bring her bills.
And guess what? When I turned my phone back on after the Theatre, there was this plaintive message from a man called Tom who said I’d sent him a text about making money. He says he’s going to ring me tomorrow.
Thursday, 25 June 2009
Breakfast and the unmentionable
by John Passmore
The idea is that you plant the rock in the garden. It has been specially treated with something which is irresistible to dogs. The dog then uses it as a toilet – avoiding the unpleasantness which results in her using the rest of the garden at random.
All of this was explained to me over my bacon and eggs.
That is the thing about business breakfast clubs: The food tends to take second place to the business – whatever the consequences…
Anyway I’ve been offered one of these gadgets on a trial basis (if you’d like to try one do let me know). The reason I mention it is that, returning home, I naturally took the dog for a walk.
We paused on the way, of course, to talk to an electrician eating sandwiches in his van: “Hello, is this your business? Well you’re just the sort of person I’m looking for. I’ve several colleagues who are electricians and they all make an extra income alongside their electrical businesses. Would you like me to tell you what they do?”
He listened politely. He thanked me profusely but he wasn’t interested. “That’s fine, “ I told him and carried on my way.
I could afford to do that because the dog then introduced herself to another dog and, as dog-owners do on these occasions, we started talking dogs: “You’ll never guess what I’m getting…”
He was intrigued. “Tell you what,” I said. “Give me your email address and I’ll get the chap to send you some info.”
He gave me his email address.
“While I’m at it, have one of these. It’s about making money.”
He peered. It seemed only polite to explain: “I’m in the Utilities business…”
Two down, four to go.
Later, on the A12 I found myself behind a van with a mobile number on the back. When I stopped, I sent him a text. Ten minutes later he called me. Now there’s a DVD in the post to him.
By this stage I’d stopped worrying about the other three. They would turn up somehow, I was sure. I was a bit surprised just how it happened, though:
I had an appointment with the solicitor at 3.00 p.m. (one day, when it’s all done and dusted, I’ll tell you why).
“Daytime phone number?” he asked.
“Same as the home phone. I work from home.”
“Oh really, what do you do?”
“I help people save money on their household bills. We’ve got a discount club. It’s called the Utility Warehouse, have you ever heard of it?”
And before I knew where I was I had given him the whole 30 seconds and he was saying: “That’s just what I need. I’m sure I’m paying too much.”
So when I go in to show him my passport on Monday, he’s bringing his bills.
Well, after that it was all downhill. I just pulled out my Win a Mini forms in the carpark and got two filled in just to finish off. One wasn’t interested in saving money, the other wants me to ring her husband.
There. Was that hard to do?
The idea is that you plant the rock in the garden. It has been specially treated with something which is irresistible to dogs. The dog then uses it as a toilet – avoiding the unpleasantness which results in her using the rest of the garden at random.
All of this was explained to me over my bacon and eggs.
That is the thing about business breakfast clubs: The food tends to take second place to the business – whatever the consequences…
Anyway I’ve been offered one of these gadgets on a trial basis (if you’d like to try one do let me know). The reason I mention it is that, returning home, I naturally took the dog for a walk.
We paused on the way, of course, to talk to an electrician eating sandwiches in his van: “Hello, is this your business? Well you’re just the sort of person I’m looking for. I’ve several colleagues who are electricians and they all make an extra income alongside their electrical businesses. Would you like me to tell you what they do?”
He listened politely. He thanked me profusely but he wasn’t interested. “That’s fine, “ I told him and carried on my way.
I could afford to do that because the dog then introduced herself to another dog and, as dog-owners do on these occasions, we started talking dogs: “You’ll never guess what I’m getting…”
He was intrigued. “Tell you what,” I said. “Give me your email address and I’ll get the chap to send you some info.”
He gave me his email address.
“While I’m at it, have one of these. It’s about making money.”
He peered. It seemed only polite to explain: “I’m in the Utilities business…”
Two down, four to go.
Later, on the A12 I found myself behind a van with a mobile number on the back. When I stopped, I sent him a text. Ten minutes later he called me. Now there’s a DVD in the post to him.
By this stage I’d stopped worrying about the other three. They would turn up somehow, I was sure. I was a bit surprised just how it happened, though:
I had an appointment with the solicitor at 3.00 p.m. (one day, when it’s all done and dusted, I’ll tell you why).
“Daytime phone number?” he asked.
“Same as the home phone. I work from home.”
“Oh really, what do you do?”
“I help people save money on their household bills. We’ve got a discount club. It’s called the Utility Warehouse, have you ever heard of it?”
And before I knew where I was I had given him the whole 30 seconds and he was saying: “That’s just what I need. I’m sure I’m paying too much.”
So when I go in to show him my passport on Monday, he’s bringing his bills.
Well, after that it was all downhill. I just pulled out my Win a Mini forms in the carpark and got two filled in just to finish off. One wasn’t interested in saving money, the other wants me to ring her husband.
There. Was that hard to do?
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
The boy racer and the money
by John Passmore
My neighbour has one of those electric scooters old people use to take out their anger on the rest of us. He let me ride it once and ever since I’ve harboured the sort of fascination for the little beats that other people reserve for Harley Davidsons.
So I was always going to stop and talk to the salesman while he smoked his cigarette outside the shop – and then, of course, I produced my Win-a-Mini form. At the moment I’m finding the quickest way of talking to six people a day is to take my clipboard out into the street.
So we filled in the form, we chatted and then we went round to the back of the shop for a cup of tea so I could take him through the Money Presentation and now all we have to do is fix up a time when I can talk to him and his wife together. And that was one.
Then a woman pulled up in a car with writing all down the side advertising the fact that she would do you an energy survey. We seemed made for each other and I filled in her details – I made sure I did that in case I never saw her again after she went into the letting agent’s office.
While she was in there, another woman on her way to the shops wanted to win a Mini and I’m going to call her husband – and then there was a man whose church was having trouble with the Utility Warehouse over their bills. Was their distributor helping, I wanted to know.
“Not at all,” said the disgruntled customer. “I think he’s moved away.”
So I volunteered to sort it out for them. It will probably take just a couple of phone calls – and I’ll have the entire congregation eating out of my hand!
The energy survey woman emerged from the letting agents.
“Step into my office,” I invited her, holding open the door of the Mini. And we sat there while I took her through the money presentation. But no, she was precluded from recommending any particular company to her clients. However she was moving house (which is where the letting agent came in) and I’m calling her on July 1st to set up her services.
And that was four, so I thought I had better go and see the letting agent myself – my favourite thing, as it turns out: It’s a no-brainer for them. Sure enough the agent wants to come to the COP on Tuesday. And that was five.
And who was number six? Well I had that one all arranged already: A referral that had turned into an appointment by proxy – one of those lovely moments when someone calls you up and says: “You don’t know me but so-and-so says I’ve got to talk to you about making money. Can you come round on Wednesday?”
Job done, thank you very much.
My neighbour has one of those electric scooters old people use to take out their anger on the rest of us. He let me ride it once and ever since I’ve harboured the sort of fascination for the little beats that other people reserve for Harley Davidsons.
So I was always going to stop and talk to the salesman while he smoked his cigarette outside the shop – and then, of course, I produced my Win-a-Mini form. At the moment I’m finding the quickest way of talking to six people a day is to take my clipboard out into the street.
So we filled in the form, we chatted and then we went round to the back of the shop for a cup of tea so I could take him through the Money Presentation and now all we have to do is fix up a time when I can talk to him and his wife together. And that was one.
Then a woman pulled up in a car with writing all down the side advertising the fact that she would do you an energy survey. We seemed made for each other and I filled in her details – I made sure I did that in case I never saw her again after she went into the letting agent’s office.
While she was in there, another woman on her way to the shops wanted to win a Mini and I’m going to call her husband – and then there was a man whose church was having trouble with the Utility Warehouse over their bills. Was their distributor helping, I wanted to know.
“Not at all,” said the disgruntled customer. “I think he’s moved away.”
So I volunteered to sort it out for them. It will probably take just a couple of phone calls – and I’ll have the entire congregation eating out of my hand!
The energy survey woman emerged from the letting agents.
“Step into my office,” I invited her, holding open the door of the Mini. And we sat there while I took her through the money presentation. But no, she was precluded from recommending any particular company to her clients. However she was moving house (which is where the letting agent came in) and I’m calling her on July 1st to set up her services.
And that was four, so I thought I had better go and see the letting agent myself – my favourite thing, as it turns out: It’s a no-brainer for them. Sure enough the agent wants to come to the COP on Tuesday. And that was five.
And who was number six? Well I had that one all arranged already: A referral that had turned into an appointment by proxy – one of those lovely moments when someone calls you up and says: “You don’t know me but so-and-so says I’ve got to talk to you about making money. Can you come round on Wednesday?”
Job done, thank you very much.
Tuesday, 23 June 2009
The Profitable Lunch Hour
by John Passmore
You don’t want to know about my morning. It was full. It was mundane. It was the sort of morning that makes people tell you they don’t have the time for this business.
But then came lunchtime.
I went and filled up the Mini at Sainsburys – and then decided to experiment. I drove around looking for a small parade of shops within five minutes’s drive. I found a small convenience store and stood outside with my Win-a-Mini forms.
Nobody came
So I went into the store and asked the man behind the counter if he wanted to win a mini. It turned out he owned not only the convenience store but also the Subway next door – and several other businesses as well. But he was adamant he didn’t want one more. Never mind, one down.
Meanwhile outside, three heating engineers had pulled up for their Subs.
“Is this your business?” I asked the driver. He pointed to the far side of the cab. I went round: “The reason I’ve come to talk to you is because I’m always on the lookout for heating engineers. Tell me, would you like to make a second income alongside the one you get from the heating business?”
And off we went. He’s now looking at it.
All very well but these people all lived somewhere else. I wanted people who had Sainsburys on their doorstep. I got back into the car and drove a bit further to the next parade. Within 15 minutes, I had another three forms filled out.
The first was a young woman whose Mum spent a lot at Sainsburys but, during the subsequent phone call, Mum insisted she didn’t want to save any money.
Number two was the man who owned the computer repair shop. He had heard about the Utility Warehouse but nobody had ever explained how he could make money with it. Now they have and I expect he is still nodding sagely and saying: “Hmm, that might work.”
Just as long as he comes to the COP…
And the third was a man who said his wife spent £200 a week in Sainsburys. I wasn’t sure whether to believe this so I phoned her. Did she want to save about £500 a year on her shopping?
“Just tell me how!” Was what she said.
So now I have an appointment to do just that.
And I was home within the hour.
If you have been counting, you will have worked out that I was still one short of my six. Never mind, no sooner did I get in than the customer care department at the garage rang to ask I rated their service. I gave them seven out of ten - just to put the young man in a good mood. In fact this was was generous when you consider they cracked a wheel when they changed the tyre.
Never mind: “May I just congratulate you on your phone manner,” I asked him. “You’re really good. Has anyone ever told you that? Well I hope they pay you well.”
And on I went: “Actually I’m always on the lookout for people who are good on the phone. Now I’m not suggesting you should give up your current job – but how would you like to earn an extra income alongside it? If you like I could tell you how. It takes about 30 seconds. Would you like me to do that?”
And he said yes and so I did – and that was six and one appointment.
And then back to the rest of the day.
You don’t want to know about my morning. It was full. It was mundane. It was the sort of morning that makes people tell you they don’t have the time for this business.
But then came lunchtime.
I went and filled up the Mini at Sainsburys – and then decided to experiment. I drove around looking for a small parade of shops within five minutes’s drive. I found a small convenience store and stood outside with my Win-a-Mini forms.
Nobody came
So I went into the store and asked the man behind the counter if he wanted to win a mini. It turned out he owned not only the convenience store but also the Subway next door – and several other businesses as well. But he was adamant he didn’t want one more. Never mind, one down.
Meanwhile outside, three heating engineers had pulled up for their Subs.
“Is this your business?” I asked the driver. He pointed to the far side of the cab. I went round: “The reason I’ve come to talk to you is because I’m always on the lookout for heating engineers. Tell me, would you like to make a second income alongside the one you get from the heating business?”
And off we went. He’s now looking at it.
All very well but these people all lived somewhere else. I wanted people who had Sainsburys on their doorstep. I got back into the car and drove a bit further to the next parade. Within 15 minutes, I had another three forms filled out.
The first was a young woman whose Mum spent a lot at Sainsburys but, during the subsequent phone call, Mum insisted she didn’t want to save any money.
Number two was the man who owned the computer repair shop. He had heard about the Utility Warehouse but nobody had ever explained how he could make money with it. Now they have and I expect he is still nodding sagely and saying: “Hmm, that might work.”
Just as long as he comes to the COP…
And the third was a man who said his wife spent £200 a week in Sainsburys. I wasn’t sure whether to believe this so I phoned her. Did she want to save about £500 a year on her shopping?
“Just tell me how!” Was what she said.
So now I have an appointment to do just that.
And I was home within the hour.
If you have been counting, you will have worked out that I was still one short of my six. Never mind, no sooner did I get in than the customer care department at the garage rang to ask I rated their service. I gave them seven out of ten - just to put the young man in a good mood. In fact this was was generous when you consider they cracked a wheel when they changed the tyre.
Never mind: “May I just congratulate you on your phone manner,” I asked him. “You’re really good. Has anyone ever told you that? Well I hope they pay you well.”
And on I went: “Actually I’m always on the lookout for people who are good on the phone. Now I’m not suggesting you should give up your current job – but how would you like to earn an extra income alongside it? If you like I could tell you how. It takes about 30 seconds. Would you like me to do that?”
And he said yes and so I did – and that was six and one appointment.
And then back to the rest of the day.
Monday, 22 June 2009
Love Forty
by John Passmore
By now you will have noticed in this blog the phenomenon of “momentum”. People talk a lot about “momentum” in Network Marketing. It’s a buzzword.
And if you look back to previous posts you will see it in action. For instance I might have spent half an hour calling electricians off the internet and talked to three. By late afternoon, I might be fretting that I was still three short of my daily target of six.
And then, because of the effort I had put in during the morning – the priming of the pump… or, as some would have it, the “momentum”… three electricians would call me back between five and six and all would want to hear what I had to say.
So I assumed that was what was going to happen today. Today was always going to be a challenge. Tamsin had taken Number Two Son to Wimbledon and so I knew that from 3.15 onwards, I would be juggling children (not just my own but three belonging to a friend whose husband demanded her presence at a corporate dinner in London) and the whole thing was going to be rounded off with the school concert.
There was also a lot of “real life” getting in the way: Calls to solicitors, accountants… all that stuff.
And as it went on, I became more and more aware that I still hadn’t talked to anyone at all – or at least not about what really mattered to my long-term future.
So after lunch, I turned away from the List of Things To Do, typed “electricians Needham Market” into Google and started calling.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m looking for an electrician –not for the usual reason. Let me explain: I’m in business like you and I have several colleagues who are electricians but they make an extra income alongside their electrical business. Would you like me to tell you what they do? It takes about 30 seconds.”
And do you know what? I have never, ever, had anyone say they don’t want to hear it. I’ve had plenty listen and say no it’s not for them. But that’s fine. Also I’ve never had anyone complain that I’ve cold-called them or wasted their time – not one.
So today I talked to three and when I asked the third one if he was interested he said: “I should say so. It sounds a brilliant idea.”
And then it was off to school, feeling rather aware that although I had left a handful of messages, I was still woefully short of my target. I looked around the playground. This can be a difficult judgement. You don’t want to get a reputation as a Network Marketing bore but on the other hand everyone needs to know what you’ve got.
I saw a man I didn’t know wearing an ID badge on a string around his neck. We have BT’s huge research centre just down the road and they all wear those badges, so I went up and said: “Is that a BT badge you’ve got there.”
It turned out not. He worked at the Police Headquarters.
Light bulbs flashed on. Bells started ringing: “You’re with the police! I’ve got to tell you about this. I’ve got so many colleagues with the police, you wouldn’t believe it. In a minute I’m going to get you to watch a DVD and your challenge will be to count the number of people who say: “I was a police officer for 15 years…
“Tell me, d’you want to make some money?”
And guess what, he’s got the DVD to look at – and I’ve got his name, his address and his phone number.
I was still two short, of course. But I went home confident that at least a couple of people would ring me back – or the opportunity would arise during the interval at the school concert…
But somehow it didn’t.
And if you look back through the three weeks or so that I’ve been writing this blog, you’ll see that this is the first day that I didn’t get my six.
So what does this tell you? We’re all human? You don’t win them all?
What I like to think it tells you is that it’s not the end of the world - and tomorrow is another day…
By now you will have noticed in this blog the phenomenon of “momentum”. People talk a lot about “momentum” in Network Marketing. It’s a buzzword.
And if you look back to previous posts you will see it in action. For instance I might have spent half an hour calling electricians off the internet and talked to three. By late afternoon, I might be fretting that I was still three short of my daily target of six.
And then, because of the effort I had put in during the morning – the priming of the pump… or, as some would have it, the “momentum”… three electricians would call me back between five and six and all would want to hear what I had to say.
So I assumed that was what was going to happen today. Today was always going to be a challenge. Tamsin had taken Number Two Son to Wimbledon and so I knew that from 3.15 onwards, I would be juggling children (not just my own but three belonging to a friend whose husband demanded her presence at a corporate dinner in London) and the whole thing was going to be rounded off with the school concert.
There was also a lot of “real life” getting in the way: Calls to solicitors, accountants… all that stuff.
And as it went on, I became more and more aware that I still hadn’t talked to anyone at all – or at least not about what really mattered to my long-term future.
So after lunch, I turned away from the List of Things To Do, typed “electricians Needham Market” into Google and started calling.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m looking for an electrician –not for the usual reason. Let me explain: I’m in business like you and I have several colleagues who are electricians but they make an extra income alongside their electrical business. Would you like me to tell you what they do? It takes about 30 seconds.”
And do you know what? I have never, ever, had anyone say they don’t want to hear it. I’ve had plenty listen and say no it’s not for them. But that’s fine. Also I’ve never had anyone complain that I’ve cold-called them or wasted their time – not one.
So today I talked to three and when I asked the third one if he was interested he said: “I should say so. It sounds a brilliant idea.”
And then it was off to school, feeling rather aware that although I had left a handful of messages, I was still woefully short of my target. I looked around the playground. This can be a difficult judgement. You don’t want to get a reputation as a Network Marketing bore but on the other hand everyone needs to know what you’ve got.
I saw a man I didn’t know wearing an ID badge on a string around his neck. We have BT’s huge research centre just down the road and they all wear those badges, so I went up and said: “Is that a BT badge you’ve got there.”
It turned out not. He worked at the Police Headquarters.
Light bulbs flashed on. Bells started ringing: “You’re with the police! I’ve got to tell you about this. I’ve got so many colleagues with the police, you wouldn’t believe it. In a minute I’m going to get you to watch a DVD and your challenge will be to count the number of people who say: “I was a police officer for 15 years…
“Tell me, d’you want to make some money?”
And guess what, he’s got the DVD to look at – and I’ve got his name, his address and his phone number.
I was still two short, of course. But I went home confident that at least a couple of people would ring me back – or the opportunity would arise during the interval at the school concert…
But somehow it didn’t.
And if you look back through the three weeks or so that I’ve been writing this blog, you’ll see that this is the first day that I didn’t get my six.
So what does this tell you? We’re all human? You don’t win them all?
What I like to think it tells you is that it’s not the end of the world - and tomorrow is another day…
Friday, 19 June 2009
Last Gasp
by John Passmore
"This is for you, just in case..."
The woman behind the counter in the petrol station looked at the DVD as if it was contagious.
"It's about making money," I offered. "Are you interested in making money?"
"No."
So there I was at half past nine at night with somebody who wouldn't take my last DVD - and more to the point, who said they weren't interest in making money.
I know I shouldn't have said this but it was getting late, I had stopped at the petrol station to do my last 30 second presentations and shift the final DVD and so I suppose I was at a low ebb. What I said was: "If you're not interested in making money, what are you doing standing behind that counter?"
"Some 0f us have to work for a living," is what she said.
So I left it on the counter and walked out. It seemed a better bet than getting into an argument - but I don't know if I can hold my head up and say I gave out three today.
The thing is, before I started writing this blog, I would never have pulled into a petrol station when I didn't need petrol and bought a bottle of Lucozade I wasn't going to drink just so I could give away a 20p DVD and spend 60 seconds promoting a £200 business.
Never mind, it wasn't like that all day. I started off with the ideal prospect. I can hardly believe this but I've found an IFA who also runs a plumbing business. Not surprisingly he wants to know more.
Then I rang the small ads department of the local paper to advertise the puppies* and the telesales executive would like to know more.
Then, being Friday, it was into Ipswich for the clarinet lesson and a young man giving out vouchers for Dominos Pizzas is now looking at a better way of getting a piece of the pie. There was also someone in the uniform of something I'd never heard of the "Street Rangers" who listened politely but decided it was not for him.
And that was when the rot set in. Oh, I made my calls from my list (I even made an appointment) but as for talking to six new people, I was still two down.
So it wasn't until well into the evening, driving back from Southwold, that I started getting desperate. I pulled into a Little Chef and gave a DVD to a man in the car park. But he didn't want to take 30 seconds to heard what it was about. I took one look and shied away from everyone in the restaurant.
Next I pulled into a garage five miles further on. It seemed deserted. I pulled out again.
And I must say, I very nearly drove straight home. But the thought of you reading this made me stop once more at a second petrol station on the Eastbound side. A man getting into his car listened politely and decided it wasn't for him. Never mind, I told myself, it all counts towards the total.
Inside I found a bloke scrubbing away at his scratch card with almost comical concentration.
"D'you want to take a bet you can't lose, " I asked him.
Now he's got the details and I've got his phone number. The trouble is that by "details", I mean the Independence. It turned out his DVD player was up the creek - so I still had one disc left.
I suppose it's not surprising that I was getting a little impatient. The first person I offered it to thought it was about Scrabble and gave it back - and since the woman behind the counter had witnessed this, it was hardly surprising she didn't want it either (people can often behave like sheep).
So we had this silly conversation about working for a living and then I shut up shop for the day.
The question is, do I care?
Not if I get another five distributors and fifteen customers tomorrow - which is what I got today.
What do you suppose the woman behind the petrol counter gets?
*If you're looking for puppies see http://www.johnpassmore.uwclub.net/puppies/ - but wait until it's up and running on Sunday
"This is for you, just in case..."
The woman behind the counter in the petrol station looked at the DVD as if it was contagious.
"It's about making money," I offered. "Are you interested in making money?"
"No."
So there I was at half past nine at night with somebody who wouldn't take my last DVD - and more to the point, who said they weren't interest in making money.
I know I shouldn't have said this but it was getting late, I had stopped at the petrol station to do my last 30 second presentations and shift the final DVD and so I suppose I was at a low ebb. What I said was: "If you're not interested in making money, what are you doing standing behind that counter?"
"Some 0f us have to work for a living," is what she said.
So I left it on the counter and walked out. It seemed a better bet than getting into an argument - but I don't know if I can hold my head up and say I gave out three today.
The thing is, before I started writing this blog, I would never have pulled into a petrol station when I didn't need petrol and bought a bottle of Lucozade I wasn't going to drink just so I could give away a 20p DVD and spend 60 seconds promoting a £200 business.
Never mind, it wasn't like that all day. I started off with the ideal prospect. I can hardly believe this but I've found an IFA who also runs a plumbing business. Not surprisingly he wants to know more.
Then I rang the small ads department of the local paper to advertise the puppies* and the telesales executive would like to know more.
Then, being Friday, it was into Ipswich for the clarinet lesson and a young man giving out vouchers for Dominos Pizzas is now looking at a better way of getting a piece of the pie. There was also someone in the uniform of something I'd never heard of the "Street Rangers" who listened politely but decided it was not for him.
And that was when the rot set in. Oh, I made my calls from my list (I even made an appointment) but as for talking to six new people, I was still two down.
So it wasn't until well into the evening, driving back from Southwold, that I started getting desperate. I pulled into a Little Chef and gave a DVD to a man in the car park. But he didn't want to take 30 seconds to heard what it was about. I took one look and shied away from everyone in the restaurant.
Next I pulled into a garage five miles further on. It seemed deserted. I pulled out again.
And I must say, I very nearly drove straight home. But the thought of you reading this made me stop once more at a second petrol station on the Eastbound side. A man getting into his car listened politely and decided it wasn't for him. Never mind, I told myself, it all counts towards the total.
Inside I found a bloke scrubbing away at his scratch card with almost comical concentration.
"D'you want to take a bet you can't lose, " I asked him.
Now he's got the details and I've got his phone number. The trouble is that by "details", I mean the Independence. It turned out his DVD player was up the creek - so I still had one disc left.
I suppose it's not surprising that I was getting a little impatient. The first person I offered it to thought it was about Scrabble and gave it back - and since the woman behind the counter had witnessed this, it was hardly surprising she didn't want it either (people can often behave like sheep).
So we had this silly conversation about working for a living and then I shut up shop for the day.
The question is, do I care?
Not if I get another five distributors and fifteen customers tomorrow - which is what I got today.
What do you suppose the woman behind the petrol counter gets?
*If you're looking for puppies see http://www.johnpassmore.uwclub.net/puppies/ - but wait until it's up and running on Sunday
Thursday, 18 June 2009
Bribery and Disruption
by John Passmore
I don't have the time for this business.
No, really. The age-old excuse that stops the vast majority of people from achieving financial freedom applies to me too. I don't have time - at least not today.
First they closed the centre of Colchester for a cycling event and I was an hour late getting home. Then I finally despaired of the computer, bundled it into the back of the Mini and made an unscheduled dash into Ipswich. Then the dog - who hasn't walked more than the end of the road since she had her puppies, decided it was time to saunter all the way down to the river.
By the time we got to one O'clock, I was feeling so frustrated I had to console myself with a beer and sandwich on the terrace and a chapter of Chris Taylor's The Formula for Success in Network Marketing.
From three O'clock I was going to be out of commission again, collecting children from school and delivering them to Maths, tennis, piano, Beavers and athletics...
In short, by the time I had dealt with a couple of opportunist phone calls, my TelecomPlus business was going to have to be crammed into 45 minutes.
How to say my 30 second thing to six people in 45 minutes?
Grabbing the Win-a-Mini clipboard, I leapt on my bike and headed for the town car park.
It was the grumpy woman on the ice cream stand and, as usual, she didn't want to win a car. But then, out of the blue, her boss turned up.
"Is this your business?" I asked him.
Yes it was. We chatted. I asked him what he did in the winter.
"As little as possible."
"D'you want to get paid for doing that?"
And we were off. Five to go in 35 minutes...
Over by the Pay and Display Machine was a man who asked me to call him next week - and then a woman who I'm now going to see on Monday at 11 O'clock.
She was followed by a man who wants me to call him next Thursday for an appointment - and then there was one who said "No".
And finally a student who wants to make money and who has a father who, according to her, wants to save money.
Which brings the total to six in just a little under 45 minutes.
However, I had given out only two DVDs so I had one to go. Back on the bike, I kept an eye out for a likely target. There he was, a grey-haired man with a collecting tin. He looked cheerful. Clearly he was energetic but maybe his pension wasn't performing.
Stopping beside him, I reached into my bag: "I'd like to give you something," I began.
"Thank you very much," he said and proferred his tin.
I gave him a DVD -and I must confess he didn't look thrilled.
I had to give him 50p as well. Am I the only distributor who has to pay people to take the DVD?
I don't have the time for this business.
No, really. The age-old excuse that stops the vast majority of people from achieving financial freedom applies to me too. I don't have time - at least not today.
First they closed the centre of Colchester for a cycling event and I was an hour late getting home. Then I finally despaired of the computer, bundled it into the back of the Mini and made an unscheduled dash into Ipswich. Then the dog - who hasn't walked more than the end of the road since she had her puppies, decided it was time to saunter all the way down to the river.
By the time we got to one O'clock, I was feeling so frustrated I had to console myself with a beer and sandwich on the terrace and a chapter of Chris Taylor's The Formula for Success in Network Marketing.
From three O'clock I was going to be out of commission again, collecting children from school and delivering them to Maths, tennis, piano, Beavers and athletics...
In short, by the time I had dealt with a couple of opportunist phone calls, my TelecomPlus business was going to have to be crammed into 45 minutes.
How to say my 30 second thing to six people in 45 minutes?
Grabbing the Win-a-Mini clipboard, I leapt on my bike and headed for the town car park.
It was the grumpy woman on the ice cream stand and, as usual, she didn't want to win a car. But then, out of the blue, her boss turned up.
"Is this your business?" I asked him.
Yes it was. We chatted. I asked him what he did in the winter.
"As little as possible."
"D'you want to get paid for doing that?"
And we were off. Five to go in 35 minutes...
Over by the Pay and Display Machine was a man who asked me to call him next week - and then a woman who I'm now going to see on Monday at 11 O'clock.
She was followed by a man who wants me to call him next Thursday for an appointment - and then there was one who said "No".
And finally a student who wants to make money and who has a father who, according to her, wants to save money.
Which brings the total to six in just a little under 45 minutes.
However, I had given out only two DVDs so I had one to go. Back on the bike, I kept an eye out for a likely target. There he was, a grey-haired man with a collecting tin. He looked cheerful. Clearly he was energetic but maybe his pension wasn't performing.
Stopping beside him, I reached into my bag: "I'd like to give you something," I began.
"Thank you very much," he said and proferred his tin.
I gave him a DVD -and I must confess he didn't look thrilled.
I had to give him 50p as well. Am I the only distributor who has to pay people to take the DVD?
Wednesday, 17 June 2009
Working the Street
by John Passmore
The letting agent looked at the Money Presentaton lying on his desk and pushed his calculator to one side. The figures it had churned out now lay in neat columns, getting bigger and bigger as they went down.
“Of course this is based on our figures here in Colchester,” he said. “It’s not representative of anywhere else.”
“Well, no…”
“So if we were to run this in all 20 offices, presumably we could multiply the figures by 20?”
“Mmm, yes… I suppose you could…”
So, you see what I mean when I say the day started well – even if he does want to trial it in his Ipswich office first.
By the time I ended up back on the street, the adrenaline was in full flood and since the car park in Colchester demands a minimum four hours’ fee, I decided to spend a little time seeing whether I could do any better.
In the next couple of hours, I visited every letting agent and Financial Advisor in the street. After six, I stopped counting the number of times I did the 30 second thing.
What I concluded is that over the last 12 months there has been a distinct and measurable sea-change in the way people look at what we have to offer. Essentially, they’re a lot more ready to look.
Take a typical example: I walked in, went up to the man at the desk and said: “Hello, I’m John Passmore. Is this your business?"
"Well, I'm a partner..."
"I've just spent and hour with So-and-so at Thingummy & Co. Do you know him?”
“Well, not personally…”
“Yes, I was showing him how he can make an extra income alongside his lettings business. He decided it was worth a go and so we’re going to start it off in his Ipswich office. Would you like me to show you what he’s going to do. It takes about five minutes.”
And then I sat down next to him, flipped through the European Business Magazine, the FT and Which? and then went straight into the Money Presentation. One small change I make is that when it comes to the big calculations, I get the prospect to work them out on their own calculator. That way they can’t doubt the totals.
He pursed his lips and looked at the figures (they all do that). “What doesn’t add up,” he said in a voice heavy with suspicion. “Is that although I’ve heard of TelecomPlus, I’ve never heard about this before. I’m going to have to check it out.”
So I left him to check it out.
I left him with the first two pages of the accounts too – IFAs love those.
So a good morning, all in all.
For the afternoon I got on with the rest of life - even though I couldn’t resist an admiring appraisal of the way the woman behind the counter in Boots asked every customer to fill in their satisfaction survey.
“I’ll fill one in,” I said. “You ask so nicely… actually I’m always looking out for people with great people skills like you. Let me give you this…”
Funny that, I hadn’t meant to be still at work. But after a morning like the one I’d had, it’s hard to stop.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Apparently this blog was mentioned during the Northampton Leadership training today: So, welcome to any new followers – and please do register as a follower. The theory is that it makes the blog more visible.
The letting agent looked at the Money Presentaton lying on his desk and pushed his calculator to one side. The figures it had churned out now lay in neat columns, getting bigger and bigger as they went down.
“Of course this is based on our figures here in Colchester,” he said. “It’s not representative of anywhere else.”
“Well, no…”
“So if we were to run this in all 20 offices, presumably we could multiply the figures by 20?”
“Mmm, yes… I suppose you could…”
So, you see what I mean when I say the day started well – even if he does want to trial it in his Ipswich office first.
By the time I ended up back on the street, the adrenaline was in full flood and since the car park in Colchester demands a minimum four hours’ fee, I decided to spend a little time seeing whether I could do any better.
In the next couple of hours, I visited every letting agent and Financial Advisor in the street. After six, I stopped counting the number of times I did the 30 second thing.
What I concluded is that over the last 12 months there has been a distinct and measurable sea-change in the way people look at what we have to offer. Essentially, they’re a lot more ready to look.
Take a typical example: I walked in, went up to the man at the desk and said: “Hello, I’m John Passmore. Is this your business?"
"Well, I'm a partner..."
"I've just spent and hour with So-and-so at Thingummy & Co. Do you know him?”
“Well, not personally…”
“Yes, I was showing him how he can make an extra income alongside his lettings business. He decided it was worth a go and so we’re going to start it off in his Ipswich office. Would you like me to show you what he’s going to do. It takes about five minutes.”
And then I sat down next to him, flipped through the European Business Magazine, the FT and Which? and then went straight into the Money Presentation. One small change I make is that when it comes to the big calculations, I get the prospect to work them out on their own calculator. That way they can’t doubt the totals.
He pursed his lips and looked at the figures (they all do that). “What doesn’t add up,” he said in a voice heavy with suspicion. “Is that although I’ve heard of TelecomPlus, I’ve never heard about this before. I’m going to have to check it out.”
So I left him to check it out.
I left him with the first two pages of the accounts too – IFAs love those.
So a good morning, all in all.
For the afternoon I got on with the rest of life - even though I couldn’t resist an admiring appraisal of the way the woman behind the counter in Boots asked every customer to fill in their satisfaction survey.
“I’ll fill one in,” I said. “You ask so nicely… actually I’m always looking out for people with great people skills like you. Let me give you this…”
Funny that, I hadn’t meant to be still at work. But after a morning like the one I’d had, it’s hard to stop.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Apparently this blog was mentioned during the Northampton Leadership training today: So, welcome to any new followers – and please do register as a follower. The theory is that it makes the blog more visible.
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
Go Straight to Jail
by John Passmore
A lorry-load of paint ended up on the A14 at Nacton and put me behind. This meant that instead of having an hour to make a stack of calls between my BNI meeting and the appointment at the next door Town Council, I had ten minutes and the washing up to do.
Never mind, the council appointment was a good one – a lead from the office. Apparently one of the staff is a customer and recommended us. We’re cheaper than their current supplier but I suspect that Eon will offer a discount to keep such a good customer.
So I suggested that one of the council-sponsored charities should become a CFR and sign up the council… and the councillors…and the staff…
Let’s see Eon match that!
So it was lunchtime before I set to getting my six for the day. First off was a call back to the garage proprietor from the Services Directory. He'd been too busy yesterday. Now he wanted to know more.
Then “bong” an email from a company which wanted to build a website for me. I rang the boss but it turned out he’d been in both L’Arome and Euphony and built two huge networks only to see both companies collapse underneath him. But he did admit that TelecomPlus was the best he’d seen. However, now he felt his future was as a franchiser. Nice chat anyway.
On to a removal firm who said "yes" they were interested - and an electrician who wouldn’t give me an email address but agreed to look at the website (so I don’t think that counts).
Two more electricians completed the set.
However, I still had to post a DVD to the lady from the insurance company (she said hadn’t been able to open the website). There’s a post box just over the road, but if I went into town, I could give out another two DVDs. The first one went to the student selling ice creams – so I told her Wes Linden’s story.
Wondering what to do with the last one, it seemed the best bet was a group of blokes hanging around a minibus. Great, I thought. I can bag four in one go.
In retrospect, I’m not sure this was such a good idea. Certainly they had plenty of time to watch the DVD – and they were definitely interested in making money.
They were all convicts on a day-out from the local prison…
However, although all distributors have to declare whether they have a criminal record, apparently that does not necessarily preclude them from joining. It’s just that we like to know what they did.
And they all looked ever so nice.
A lorry-load of paint ended up on the A14 at Nacton and put me behind. This meant that instead of having an hour to make a stack of calls between my BNI meeting and the appointment at the next door Town Council, I had ten minutes and the washing up to do.
Never mind, the council appointment was a good one – a lead from the office. Apparently one of the staff is a customer and recommended us. We’re cheaper than their current supplier but I suspect that Eon will offer a discount to keep such a good customer.
So I suggested that one of the council-sponsored charities should become a CFR and sign up the council… and the councillors…and the staff…
Let’s see Eon match that!
So it was lunchtime before I set to getting my six for the day. First off was a call back to the garage proprietor from the Services Directory. He'd been too busy yesterday. Now he wanted to know more.
Then “bong” an email from a company which wanted to build a website for me. I rang the boss but it turned out he’d been in both L’Arome and Euphony and built two huge networks only to see both companies collapse underneath him. But he did admit that TelecomPlus was the best he’d seen. However, now he felt his future was as a franchiser. Nice chat anyway.
On to a removal firm who said "yes" they were interested - and an electrician who wouldn’t give me an email address but agreed to look at the website (so I don’t think that counts).
Two more electricians completed the set.
However, I still had to post a DVD to the lady from the insurance company (she said hadn’t been able to open the website). There’s a post box just over the road, but if I went into town, I could give out another two DVDs. The first one went to the student selling ice creams – so I told her Wes Linden’s story.
Wondering what to do with the last one, it seemed the best bet was a group of blokes hanging around a minibus. Great, I thought. I can bag four in one go.
In retrospect, I’m not sure this was such a good idea. Certainly they had plenty of time to watch the DVD – and they were definitely interested in making money.
They were all convicts on a day-out from the local prison…
However, although all distributors have to declare whether they have a criminal record, apparently that does not necessarily preclude them from joining. It’s just that we like to know what they did.
And they all looked ever so nice.
Monday, 15 June 2009
A little faith and a forgotten friend
by John Passmore
What a good day – and not just because it was a “One Customer, One Distributor Day” (in which case my work for the week is done on Monday!)
As usual it began with me wondering how on earth I was going to talk to six people. I suppose you just have to have a bit of faith and sure enough the first serving of spam arrived - or rather the first bit of email marketing, to give it its proper name.
Because we do Bed & Breakfast we get a lot of this stuff – they hoover up email addresses off B&B websites and here was an insurance company wanting to save us on our premium. So I rang them, spoke to the man whose name was on the email and asked him if he wanted to take 30 seconds to find out how he could make an extra income on the back of his insurance business – and, guess what, he did.
But there my luck ran out and I was reduced to calling the numbers in the “Services Directory” – a little booklet full of local small businesses which dropped on the mat a couple of weeks ago. Out of that I got a wedding video company, an accountant and an IFA all wanting to know how they could make extra money.
However that was the end of the booklet and I still needed two more so I looked up “IFA Suffolk” and “Electrician Suffolk” on Google and started calling.
“Hello,” I said. “We’ve not met but I’m calling because I have several colleagues who are IFAs/electricians and they find they can make a very good extra income on the back of their regular business. Would you like me to take 30 seconds to tell you what they do?”
And guess what, the IFA listened and said: “A friend of mine was telling me about this a few months ago.”
“Well get back to your friend and say ‘I’m in’.” I told him. “ It works brilliantly for people in your line. I went to a meeting last week and there were four IFA’s in the room.”
“Yes,” he said. “I think I will – trouble is I can’t remember his name.”
Clearly this was a use of the word “friend” with which I was unfamiliar. So now he’s running over the business again on my website…
Then another IFA called back and he wanted to know more and that was my six. But by this time I had created what they call “momentum” so what happened during the rest of the day was this:
First of all an electrician called Stan phoned back. This was hardly surprising since his number seemed to be all over Google in a variety of different guises. Just as well, though. This is what he said: “Now it’s funny you should call. I heard about this some while ago and thought I should do it. I was planning to look it up on the internet tonight but you could save me some trouble if you have the company’s website address.”
And then I looked at my Business Development Planner and realised I hadn’t rung anyone from my list. The trouble is it’s a very old list. The first person said no. The second person said: “John Passmore? My word that’s a name from the past!”
It was too. According to the database, we first spoke in March 2007.
“You still doing that Utility thing?” he asked.
“Certainly am. Let me tell you what it’s done for me…”
Then I asked him: “Are you any richer than you were last time we spoke?”
And this was all very well except suddenly it dawned on me that I’d put “give out three DVDs” on the Business Development Planner and I hadn’t given out any and now it was getting late.
There was nothing for it but to shift two to parents waiting outside my son’s dancing class. They didn’t seem very interested but that was their problem. I’d done my bit.
For a while I tapped the last one on my fingers wondering what on earth to do with it.
Of course! I had an appointment at 7.45…
Like I said. You just need a little faith.
What a good day – and not just because it was a “One Customer, One Distributor Day” (in which case my work for the week is done on Monday!)
As usual it began with me wondering how on earth I was going to talk to six people. I suppose you just have to have a bit of faith and sure enough the first serving of spam arrived - or rather the first bit of email marketing, to give it its proper name.
Because we do Bed & Breakfast we get a lot of this stuff – they hoover up email addresses off B&B websites and here was an insurance company wanting to save us on our premium. So I rang them, spoke to the man whose name was on the email and asked him if he wanted to take 30 seconds to find out how he could make an extra income on the back of his insurance business – and, guess what, he did.
But there my luck ran out and I was reduced to calling the numbers in the “Services Directory” – a little booklet full of local small businesses which dropped on the mat a couple of weeks ago. Out of that I got a wedding video company, an accountant and an IFA all wanting to know how they could make extra money.
However that was the end of the booklet and I still needed two more so I looked up “IFA Suffolk” and “Electrician Suffolk” on Google and started calling.
“Hello,” I said. “We’ve not met but I’m calling because I have several colleagues who are IFAs/electricians and they find they can make a very good extra income on the back of their regular business. Would you like me to take 30 seconds to tell you what they do?”
And guess what, the IFA listened and said: “A friend of mine was telling me about this a few months ago.”
“Well get back to your friend and say ‘I’m in’.” I told him. “ It works brilliantly for people in your line. I went to a meeting last week and there were four IFA’s in the room.”
“Yes,” he said. “I think I will – trouble is I can’t remember his name.”
Clearly this was a use of the word “friend” with which I was unfamiliar. So now he’s running over the business again on my website…
Then another IFA called back and he wanted to know more and that was my six. But by this time I had created what they call “momentum” so what happened during the rest of the day was this:
First of all an electrician called Stan phoned back. This was hardly surprising since his number seemed to be all over Google in a variety of different guises. Just as well, though. This is what he said: “Now it’s funny you should call. I heard about this some while ago and thought I should do it. I was planning to look it up on the internet tonight but you could save me some trouble if you have the company’s website address.”
And then I looked at my Business Development Planner and realised I hadn’t rung anyone from my list. The trouble is it’s a very old list. The first person said no. The second person said: “John Passmore? My word that’s a name from the past!”
It was too. According to the database, we first spoke in March 2007.
“You still doing that Utility thing?” he asked.
“Certainly am. Let me tell you what it’s done for me…”
Then I asked him: “Are you any richer than you were last time we spoke?”
And this was all very well except suddenly it dawned on me that I’d put “give out three DVDs” on the Business Development Planner and I hadn’t given out any and now it was getting late.
There was nothing for it but to shift two to parents waiting outside my son’s dancing class. They didn’t seem very interested but that was their problem. I’d done my bit.
For a while I tapped the last one on my fingers wondering what on earth to do with it.
Of course! I had an appointment at 7.45…
Like I said. You just need a little faith.
Saturday, 13 June 2009
Friday, finally
by John Passmore
Emily and I are getting along splendidly. Emily is the telesales executive with ClickCover, the Utility Warehouse partner which has just cut my household insurance from £800 to £300!
Anyway it’s all sorted and of course I complimented her on her telephone manner.
“Actually, I said. “I’m always on the lookout for people who are good on the telephone…”
However it turned out she knew all about the TelecomPlus opportunity - every distributor she speaks to sends her a DVD. She’s got dozens.
“And have you watched any of them?”
“No.”
“Well,” I said after a significant pause, “It you knew you were going to be paid £50,000 for watching one, when would you do it.”
“Right now.”
So now I’ve sent Emily an email and I’ve got her phone number and we shall see… and she was the first of my six.
The next one was someone who had turned down my invitation to a networking breakfast: “Since you won’t be coming, you won’t hear about my business. So how would you like to take 30 seconds to hear about it now?”
“OK,” he said – they always say “OK” because they feel guilty about turning down the initial invitation and this is a cheap get-out. Isn’t psychology wonderful…
Then it was off to Ipswich to take Tamsin’s defunct camera to Jessop’s the photographic shop. Apparently there was a design fault. They looked up the number for me to phone for a replacement.
“You’re very efficient, “ I told the young man. “Do they pay you well?”
“Not well enough.”
“Well, would you like to take 30 seconds to hear how you can earn what you’re really worth?”
“Yes please,” He said. So I told him.
Next, in Staples, buying mini labels for my DVDs, I wandered round the furniture section marvelling at the opulence of the executive chairs. The sales manager hovered. We fell into conversation (oh, how easy it is to fall into conversation when there’s money in it!)
I suspected that he must do well in a recession – what with companies looking to save money. That got us onto the subject of money and… you guessed it, he wanted to take 30 seconds to find out how to make more.
Then off to the Sainsbury’s petrol station to fill up the Mini. I love a long queue. A couple of people weren’t interested – and one had even received one of my texts. But I did find an existing customer.
“Did you know you can make money as well as save money?”
“How’s that,” he asked (oh dear, somebody hasn’t done their job properly).
So I filled in the gaps and he likes the sound of it.
If you’ve been counting, this took me up to five. The trouble was that by now the queue had disappeared and I think you always need a reason to talk to people rather than just walking up and accosting them at the pumps. For some reason no opportunity presented itself. Now at this point, I could have called it a day and gone home. But when you know you’re going to sit down in the evening and write a blog, you can’t stop until you’ve got the six.
Actually that’s what the blog is for. You might think I write it for your benefit – not at all! It’s for my benefit: as long as I know one person is reading it – and I can always count on John Breadstill - I have to put in the activity.
So I was about to take a turn around the car park looking for vans with mobile numbers when suddenly I realised that if I didn’t phone Casio about the camera by the end of the working day, it would take another three days to get the battery (by which time the puppies would be three days less photogenic).
Sitting in the car I rang the number, worked out how to get the battery out of the camera, read off the serial number etc.
“We’ll send out a replacement within seven working days,” said the man on the other end.
“Terrific. Thanks very much, goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
… goodbye? Something wrong there. Ohmygod…
“Are you still there? Hello? Hello?”
He was. Thank heavens for that. “Look, I just wanted to say how good you are on the phone. Has anyone ever told you that….”
And there we were – got the six. And five of them gave me their phone numbers and email addresses. A good day all round – and that was without counting the letting agent I phoned about something else entirely and who wants me to go and see him next Wednesday. I couldn’t count him as one of the six because he didn’t get 30 seconds. He got five minutes.
And this is the postscript. At five O’clock the man from the furniture warehouse delivered the dilapidated Victorian chest of drawers for Owen’s new bedroom. £165 worth of good investment, apparently.
I wrote out the cheque with a flourish. Then: “A pleasure doing business with you. Now, whenever I do business with someone, I always take 30 seconds to tell them about my business. Does that sound fair?"
Nobody is going to say “No” to that. How could they?
All we have to do is ask.
Emily and I are getting along splendidly. Emily is the telesales executive with ClickCover, the Utility Warehouse partner which has just cut my household insurance from £800 to £300!
Anyway it’s all sorted and of course I complimented her on her telephone manner.
“Actually, I said. “I’m always on the lookout for people who are good on the telephone…”
However it turned out she knew all about the TelecomPlus opportunity - every distributor she speaks to sends her a DVD. She’s got dozens.
“And have you watched any of them?”
“No.”
“Well,” I said after a significant pause, “It you knew you were going to be paid £50,000 for watching one, when would you do it.”
“Right now.”
So now I’ve sent Emily an email and I’ve got her phone number and we shall see… and she was the first of my six.
The next one was someone who had turned down my invitation to a networking breakfast: “Since you won’t be coming, you won’t hear about my business. So how would you like to take 30 seconds to hear about it now?”
“OK,” he said – they always say “OK” because they feel guilty about turning down the initial invitation and this is a cheap get-out. Isn’t psychology wonderful…
Then it was off to Ipswich to take Tamsin’s defunct camera to Jessop’s the photographic shop. Apparently there was a design fault. They looked up the number for me to phone for a replacement.
“You’re very efficient, “ I told the young man. “Do they pay you well?”
“Not well enough.”
“Well, would you like to take 30 seconds to hear how you can earn what you’re really worth?”
“Yes please,” He said. So I told him.
Next, in Staples, buying mini labels for my DVDs, I wandered round the furniture section marvelling at the opulence of the executive chairs. The sales manager hovered. We fell into conversation (oh, how easy it is to fall into conversation when there’s money in it!)
I suspected that he must do well in a recession – what with companies looking to save money. That got us onto the subject of money and… you guessed it, he wanted to take 30 seconds to find out how to make more.
Then off to the Sainsbury’s petrol station to fill up the Mini. I love a long queue. A couple of people weren’t interested – and one had even received one of my texts. But I did find an existing customer.
“Did you know you can make money as well as save money?”
“How’s that,” he asked (oh dear, somebody hasn’t done their job properly).
So I filled in the gaps and he likes the sound of it.
If you’ve been counting, this took me up to five. The trouble was that by now the queue had disappeared and I think you always need a reason to talk to people rather than just walking up and accosting them at the pumps. For some reason no opportunity presented itself. Now at this point, I could have called it a day and gone home. But when you know you’re going to sit down in the evening and write a blog, you can’t stop until you’ve got the six.
Actually that’s what the blog is for. You might think I write it for your benefit – not at all! It’s for my benefit: as long as I know one person is reading it – and I can always count on John Breadstill - I have to put in the activity.
So I was about to take a turn around the car park looking for vans with mobile numbers when suddenly I realised that if I didn’t phone Casio about the camera by the end of the working day, it would take another three days to get the battery (by which time the puppies would be three days less photogenic).
Sitting in the car I rang the number, worked out how to get the battery out of the camera, read off the serial number etc.
“We’ll send out a replacement within seven working days,” said the man on the other end.
“Terrific. Thanks very much, goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
… goodbye? Something wrong there. Ohmygod…
“Are you still there? Hello? Hello?”
He was. Thank heavens for that. “Look, I just wanted to say how good you are on the phone. Has anyone ever told you that….”
And there we were – got the six. And five of them gave me their phone numbers and email addresses. A good day all round – and that was without counting the letting agent I phoned about something else entirely and who wants me to go and see him next Wednesday. I couldn’t count him as one of the six because he didn’t get 30 seconds. He got five minutes.
And this is the postscript. At five O’clock the man from the furniture warehouse delivered the dilapidated Victorian chest of drawers for Owen’s new bedroom. £165 worth of good investment, apparently.
I wrote out the cheque with a flourish. Then: “A pleasure doing business with you. Now, whenever I do business with someone, I always take 30 seconds to tell them about my business. Does that sound fair?"
Nobody is going to say “No” to that. How could they?
All we have to do is ask.
Thursday, 11 June 2009
Cynics and cheats
by John Passmore
“Do you cheat?”
That’s what people have started to ask me.
Well, I could. I could have cheated this morning. This morning I said my 30 second thing to 25 people before nine O’clock in the morning. I went to a business breakfast club. But I couldn’t very well count that – not after what Robin Brooks told us at the Norwich COP last night.
This isn’t the place to repeat everything he said. But I tell you one thing: I know why they say going to the COPs will make your business go faster. This is the effect it had on me today…
For a start I decided that counting the breakfast meeting would be just too easy – apart from the one member I chatted to before we sat down. How did my business work, she asked me.
“Well, what I do is listen out for people who moan about the credit crunch and the cost of living…”
But then, back home again, I had a rather long Meeting Two with a new distributor and the afternoon was going to be spent putting together IKEA bookcases. The one window of opportunity was a quick trip to Felixstowe.
First I asked a young man in the street for directions to a stationers. He spent a long time telling me.
“Thanks for being so helpful…. Actually, I’m always on the lookout for helpful people. Would you be interested in earning some extra money?”
He was – Two.
On a high now, I bowled into a betting shop and advanced on the three clerks behind the counter announcing loudly: “I’m looking for someone who wants to bet on a horse that never loses.”
I don’t know what made me say it but it’s what Jimmy Chapman said to his first distributor.
Of course, I should have realised that betting shop staff must be the most cynical beings on the planet. Imagine watching an endless sequence of broken dreams being played out in front of you day after day.
They watched impassively as I told them how it worked.
“Interested?” I asked them.
“Nah…”
Who cares, I was up to five. In the car park was a little family group: Granny, daughter and granddaughter. Flinging open the boot of the Mini, I grabbed a DVD and thrust it at them: “This is for you – just in case.”
Granny took it: “Thank you very much.”
Then, as she examined it, she matched up the pigs on the DVD with the pigs on the car.
“D’you want one – the car I mean. They give you one of these…”
And 30 seconds later she knew how and I had her phone number and email address.
So that was my six – or perhaps my 30 if you count breakfast.
But guess what, a friend – the teacher from Tuesday – called round to drop off Lottie from Ballet and of course he and his daughter came in to see the puppies.
“D’you want one?” I asked them. “D’you want two?”
“Oh no,” he said, “We’ve thought of it but with both of us out all day, it wouldn’t be fair.”
Now, this friend is a customer. He and his wife have known for four years that you can make money out of this business – heavens, they’ve seen me make money out of it and I’ve never mentioned it again since that first time – but tonight I was still fresh from my infusion of Robin Brooks.
“I can fix that!” I said – and grabbed a DVD. “Have another look at this – it works…”
“Do you cheat?”
That’s what people have started to ask me.
Well, I could. I could have cheated this morning. This morning I said my 30 second thing to 25 people before nine O’clock in the morning. I went to a business breakfast club. But I couldn’t very well count that – not after what Robin Brooks told us at the Norwich COP last night.
This isn’t the place to repeat everything he said. But I tell you one thing: I know why they say going to the COPs will make your business go faster. This is the effect it had on me today…
For a start I decided that counting the breakfast meeting would be just too easy – apart from the one member I chatted to before we sat down. How did my business work, she asked me.
“Well, what I do is listen out for people who moan about the credit crunch and the cost of living…”
But then, back home again, I had a rather long Meeting Two with a new distributor and the afternoon was going to be spent putting together IKEA bookcases. The one window of opportunity was a quick trip to Felixstowe.
First I asked a young man in the street for directions to a stationers. He spent a long time telling me.
“Thanks for being so helpful…. Actually, I’m always on the lookout for helpful people. Would you be interested in earning some extra money?”
He was – Two.
On a high now, I bowled into a betting shop and advanced on the three clerks behind the counter announcing loudly: “I’m looking for someone who wants to bet on a horse that never loses.”
I don’t know what made me say it but it’s what Jimmy Chapman said to his first distributor.
Of course, I should have realised that betting shop staff must be the most cynical beings on the planet. Imagine watching an endless sequence of broken dreams being played out in front of you day after day.
They watched impassively as I told them how it worked.
“Interested?” I asked them.
“Nah…”
Who cares, I was up to five. In the car park was a little family group: Granny, daughter and granddaughter. Flinging open the boot of the Mini, I grabbed a DVD and thrust it at them: “This is for you – just in case.”
Granny took it: “Thank you very much.”
Then, as she examined it, she matched up the pigs on the DVD with the pigs on the car.
“D’you want one – the car I mean. They give you one of these…”
And 30 seconds later she knew how and I had her phone number and email address.
So that was my six – or perhaps my 30 if you count breakfast.
But guess what, a friend – the teacher from Tuesday – called round to drop off Lottie from Ballet and of course he and his daughter came in to see the puppies.
“D’you want one?” I asked them. “D’you want two?”
“Oh no,” he said, “We’ve thought of it but with both of us out all day, it wouldn’t be fair.”
Now, this friend is a customer. He and his wife have known for four years that you can make money out of this business – heavens, they’ve seen me make money out of it and I’ve never mentioned it again since that first time – but tonight I was still fresh from my infusion of Robin Brooks.
“I can fix that!” I said – and grabbed a DVD. “Have another look at this – it works…”
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
The truth, the whole truth and then some
by John Passmore
Get a haircut,
Collect suit from cleaners
Buy new shaver
Money from bank
Just take a look at the list of things to do and you can tell this was the day of Norwich COP!
The good news was that the list was going to take me into town so as usual I slung my Win-a-Mini clipboard in the back of the car. After all, I’d taken just one call after breakfast so I still had to say my piece five times before people arrived for a lift up to Norfolk – all inevitably saying: “Well, have you got your six?”
And so, chores done, I positioned myself by the car park ticket machine and asked the first person to come by whether she wanted to win a car.
Her name was Rosalind and she said “Why not?” Better still, she wanted to save money and we made an appointment – just like that.
The next two patiently listened to me say my piece but I couldn’t help them. However the last was the most interesting. I wrote his address without thinking and then, when I told him about the club he said: “I already use your stuff.”
Good heavens – I looked at the form again. We’d met before. He was the lodger with one of my very first customers from four years ago! They are still customers today but now they’re moving house and he’s moving to Kent. So he agreed he would get his landlord to call the Home Movers team and when he got to Kent he would give me a call himself.
And then he said something that switched the lightbulb on: “I’m moving down to be near my daughter. I hadn’t planned to retire just yet but circumstances have conspired. I’ll find a little job – just a couple of days a week…”
And so, yes, you guessed it, he’s looking at the business.
In fact everything was looking very rosey – until it started raining before I got my sixth in the bag. The trouble was, the rest of the day was pretty much sewn up: I had an appointment with a potential distributor (yes he joined) and then it was straight back to deliver children to their various after-school activities – and then, without a pause to draw breath- off to Norwich.
But I did do one useful thing on the way back from the new distributor: I recorded into my phone the mobile number of the van in front of me on the A12. When I stopped I dashed off a text to him.
And 40 minutes later, between getting back from the tennis run and my passengers arriving, I got a call back. In fact as John Breadstill arrived, I was still on the phone saying: “…you could say ‘We’ve joined this brilliant club…’”
So when John reads this tomorrow morning, at least he’ll know it’s true.
Get a haircut,
Collect suit from cleaners
Buy new shaver
Money from bank
Just take a look at the list of things to do and you can tell this was the day of Norwich COP!
The good news was that the list was going to take me into town so as usual I slung my Win-a-Mini clipboard in the back of the car. After all, I’d taken just one call after breakfast so I still had to say my piece five times before people arrived for a lift up to Norfolk – all inevitably saying: “Well, have you got your six?”
And so, chores done, I positioned myself by the car park ticket machine and asked the first person to come by whether she wanted to win a car.
Her name was Rosalind and she said “Why not?” Better still, she wanted to save money and we made an appointment – just like that.
The next two patiently listened to me say my piece but I couldn’t help them. However the last was the most interesting. I wrote his address without thinking and then, when I told him about the club he said: “I already use your stuff.”
Good heavens – I looked at the form again. We’d met before. He was the lodger with one of my very first customers from four years ago! They are still customers today but now they’re moving house and he’s moving to Kent. So he agreed he would get his landlord to call the Home Movers team and when he got to Kent he would give me a call himself.
And then he said something that switched the lightbulb on: “I’m moving down to be near my daughter. I hadn’t planned to retire just yet but circumstances have conspired. I’ll find a little job – just a couple of days a week…”
And so, yes, you guessed it, he’s looking at the business.
In fact everything was looking very rosey – until it started raining before I got my sixth in the bag. The trouble was, the rest of the day was pretty much sewn up: I had an appointment with a potential distributor (yes he joined) and then it was straight back to deliver children to their various after-school activities – and then, without a pause to draw breath- off to Norwich.
But I did do one useful thing on the way back from the new distributor: I recorded into my phone the mobile number of the van in front of me on the A12. When I stopped I dashed off a text to him.
And 40 minutes later, between getting back from the tennis run and my passengers arriving, I got a call back. In fact as John Breadstill arrived, I was still on the phone saying: “…you could say ‘We’ve joined this brilliant club…’”
So when John reads this tomorrow morning, at least he’ll know it’s true.
The Pompous Approach
by John Passmore
There’s nothing quite so satisfying as being pompous when you’ve an appreciative audience – except, perhaps, being invited to be pompous.
I have a friend who is a head of department at one of our local high schools and he’s a man with a mission. The Government, apparently, has identified a problem among children from less privileged neighbourhoods: They rarely get to meet older people from outside their social circle – older people, for instance, who have achieved something particularly worthwhile in their lives.
So my friend the teacher set out to remedy this. He got together with another school and between them they invited an eminent doctor, a retired army officer, a wonderful old man who had survived Auschwitz, a woman who had built up her own successful business, various other worthies … and me.
All very well except that all the students were all under 18 so my six-a-day didn’t look so easy.
I had a good start, though – before I left home there was a call back from the day before. But he just said: “If it’s not building or ground works, I’m not interested.”
And then, at about midday, when we stopped for coffee, I found myself talking to the doctor and the army officer and one of them asked: “So what do you do now?”
Without even thinking about it, I began: “Well, I’m in the utilities business. That’s gas, electricity…”
If I had thought of it, I’d have done the “What we’ve got here is a discount club…” They might have gone for saving money. But they clearly had good pensions and so that was two more “No’s”
By the time I got home, there was nothing for it but to start hammering the list. The first one had just signed up to TalkTalk and the landlord wouldn’t let her change the electricity supplier.
Did she like renting? I asked. Would she like me to take 30 seconds to tell her how she could buy her own home?
Bingo! That’s four.
I did the next two in five minutes. The first one said no but when I got to the second, it turned out my record-keeping was awry - she was already a member.
“Ah yes,” I stammered. “Now that’s why I rang you. You see we’re looking for happy, satisfied customers who might like to make some extra money . What you do is listen out for people who moan about the credit crunch or the cost of living. Does anyone ever moan to you about those things?”
She wants to know more – and that’s my six. Spending a good part of the day being pompous was just a bonus…
There’s nothing quite so satisfying as being pompous when you’ve an appreciative audience – except, perhaps, being invited to be pompous.
I have a friend who is a head of department at one of our local high schools and he’s a man with a mission. The Government, apparently, has identified a problem among children from less privileged neighbourhoods: They rarely get to meet older people from outside their social circle – older people, for instance, who have achieved something particularly worthwhile in their lives.
So my friend the teacher set out to remedy this. He got together with another school and between them they invited an eminent doctor, a retired army officer, a wonderful old man who had survived Auschwitz, a woman who had built up her own successful business, various other worthies … and me.
All very well except that all the students were all under 18 so my six-a-day didn’t look so easy.
I had a good start, though – before I left home there was a call back from the day before. But he just said: “If it’s not building or ground works, I’m not interested.”
And then, at about midday, when we stopped for coffee, I found myself talking to the doctor and the army officer and one of them asked: “So what do you do now?”
Without even thinking about it, I began: “Well, I’m in the utilities business. That’s gas, electricity…”
If I had thought of it, I’d have done the “What we’ve got here is a discount club…” They might have gone for saving money. But they clearly had good pensions and so that was two more “No’s”
By the time I got home, there was nothing for it but to start hammering the list. The first one had just signed up to TalkTalk and the landlord wouldn’t let her change the electricity supplier.
Did she like renting? I asked. Would she like me to take 30 seconds to tell her how she could buy her own home?
Bingo! That’s four.
I did the next two in five minutes. The first one said no but when I got to the second, it turned out my record-keeping was awry - she was already a member.
“Ah yes,” I stammered. “Now that’s why I rang you. You see we’re looking for happy, satisfied customers who might like to make some extra money . What you do is listen out for people who moan about the credit crunch or the cost of living. Does anyone ever moan to you about those things?”
She wants to know more – and that’s my six. Spending a good part of the day being pompous was just a bonus…
Monday, 8 June 2009
The Fabler Groder Trail
by John Passmore
At the COP last month I was able to announce that this business had done one significant thing for me – it had allowed us to give up one of our guestrooms and now all the children have their own bedrooms.
What this also means is that everybody has moved bedrooms and we’re now living in chaos with piles of clothes on floors, books stacked in the living room…
The solution is a lot more furniture and so today I headed up the A12 to IKEA with the list.
Now everybody knows there is no such thing as a quick trip to IKEA so talking to six people today was going to have to fit round it. To help myself off to a good start I collected a couple of mobile numbers on the road and sent them texts when I arrived - along with another two to the owners of vans I found in the car park.
And then I went to work: First on the IKEA list was something called a Fabler Groda. I had no idea what it might look like - only that it was to be found in the children’s department. But, amazingly, I did find an assistant.
And once we’d dealt with the Fabler Groder, I was able to look shyly at her waistline and say: “I’m taking a big chance but am I right in thinking that you’ll be shopping in the children’s department soon?”
“Already do, “ she said. “I’ve got one at home already.”
“Really? Would you like me to tell you how you can get paid to stay at home with your children. It takes about 30 seconds.”
“All right,” she said. “How?”
One down. Now I needed some calls back from the texts. But as I collected the book cases and the table and loaded them into the car, the phone stayed silent. In desperation I wandered over to a man waiting by a pile of boxes while his wife fetched the car: “Hi, since you’re waiting here, I thought you might like to take 30 seconds to find out how to pay for it all.”
“How’s that then?”
So I told him.
He looked back at me with a slightly pitying gaze: “I don’t mean to be funny mate but I’m not interested.”
“That’s fine. Nice to talk to you.”
Two down.
Next I went to the restaurant for my ritual helping of meatballs. I turned to the man behind me: “I always give one of these to the person behind me in the queue. It’s about making money.”
“What’s this?” he asked unfolding the piece of paper. So I told him.
Three
Then the woman who took my money for the pickled herrings and gravad lax was very patient when I entered my PIN too soon.
“You’re very patient.” I told her. “Is it a long day for you? Would you like me to tell you how you can get paid without going out to work?”
By the time I left at 2.30 p.m. I had spoken to four people and three of them had given me their names, phone numbers and email addresses. Mind you, I was still two short.
But then, walking across the car park, I happened to see another two vans with mobile numbers. Out came the phone.
It took one of them five minutes to get back to me and the other about half an hour. But both of them wanted to know more.
All six done in good time and five ticks in the book.
But just to set myself up for tomorrow, I sent texts to the drivers of three vans I passed on the way home.
And then it turned out that Tamsin had found the phone number for her new friend the presiding officer. They had spent the day together running a village Polling Station on election day and it turned out that the presiding officer was doing her bit for democracy only party for reasons of public duty – the other attraction was some extra money.
“You ought to talk to my husband,” Tamsin told her.
You know there might be a distributor there – and I’m not talking about the Presiding Officer!
At the COP last month I was able to announce that this business had done one significant thing for me – it had allowed us to give up one of our guestrooms and now all the children have their own bedrooms.
What this also means is that everybody has moved bedrooms and we’re now living in chaos with piles of clothes on floors, books stacked in the living room…
The solution is a lot more furniture and so today I headed up the A12 to IKEA with the list.
Now everybody knows there is no such thing as a quick trip to IKEA so talking to six people today was going to have to fit round it. To help myself off to a good start I collected a couple of mobile numbers on the road and sent them texts when I arrived - along with another two to the owners of vans I found in the car park.
And then I went to work: First on the IKEA list was something called a Fabler Groda. I had no idea what it might look like - only that it was to be found in the children’s department. But, amazingly, I did find an assistant.
And once we’d dealt with the Fabler Groder, I was able to look shyly at her waistline and say: “I’m taking a big chance but am I right in thinking that you’ll be shopping in the children’s department soon?”
“Already do, “ she said. “I’ve got one at home already.”
“Really? Would you like me to tell you how you can get paid to stay at home with your children. It takes about 30 seconds.”
“All right,” she said. “How?”
One down. Now I needed some calls back from the texts. But as I collected the book cases and the table and loaded them into the car, the phone stayed silent. In desperation I wandered over to a man waiting by a pile of boxes while his wife fetched the car: “Hi, since you’re waiting here, I thought you might like to take 30 seconds to find out how to pay for it all.”
“How’s that then?”
So I told him.
He looked back at me with a slightly pitying gaze: “I don’t mean to be funny mate but I’m not interested.”
“That’s fine. Nice to talk to you.”
Two down.
Next I went to the restaurant for my ritual helping of meatballs. I turned to the man behind me: “I always give one of these to the person behind me in the queue. It’s about making money.”
“What’s this?” he asked unfolding the piece of paper. So I told him.
Three
Then the woman who took my money for the pickled herrings and gravad lax was very patient when I entered my PIN too soon.
“You’re very patient.” I told her. “Is it a long day for you? Would you like me to tell you how you can get paid without going out to work?”
By the time I left at 2.30 p.m. I had spoken to four people and three of them had given me their names, phone numbers and email addresses. Mind you, I was still two short.
But then, walking across the car park, I happened to see another two vans with mobile numbers. Out came the phone.
It took one of them five minutes to get back to me and the other about half an hour. But both of them wanted to know more.
All six done in good time and five ticks in the book.
But just to set myself up for tomorrow, I sent texts to the drivers of three vans I passed on the way home.
And then it turned out that Tamsin had found the phone number for her new friend the presiding officer. They had spent the day together running a village Polling Station on election day and it turned out that the presiding officer was doing her bit for democracy only party for reasons of public duty – the other attraction was some extra money.
“You ought to talk to my husband,” Tamsin told her.
You know there might be a distributor there – and I’m not talking about the Presiding Officer!
Sunday, 7 June 2009
Time Off
by John Passmore
The weekend is time off – but time of in this business is not the same as time off in a conventional job. For one thing, with a conventional job it’s unlikely that you feel you just can’t wait to get started again.
But they say you don’t get into network marketing until network marketing gets into you. And that tends to happen once the money kicks in.
So when the phone rang on Saturday afternoon and a voice said: “I hope you don’t mind me ringing at this time but I work on Saturdays and I thought maybe you did too…”
I went back to work.
It turned out to be someone returning my message. On Friday I’d seen this extraordinary little vehicle; even smaller than a Smart car – just a cab at the front and a billboard at the back with an advert offering advertising space. What intrigued me more was the website address painted across the door: a leafleting company.
“Right,” I said. “Now I left you the message because I had a question to ask you: Would you be interested in an extra income alongside your present business?”
- - - Of course, I’m always interested in income.
“OK then, what I suggest I do is take 30 seconds to tell you what it’s about and you can tell me if you’re interested, is that OK?”
- Yes, go ahead.
“Well, I’m in the utilities business, that’s gas, electricity…”
When I’d finished he asked me how it worked so I gave him “What we’ve got here is a club. It’s called the Utility Warehouse. Have you ever heard of it…”
He thought for a moment and then said: “You know this could work very well with my business. I deliver 35,000 leaflets a day.”
“Now there’s an idea,” I said.
So he went off to look at it – and I went back to my weekend.
+++ STOP PRESS +++
Another bit of weekend stuff:
A call from Lee who I first spoke to back in March and who now wants to come and see me, bringing his wife who is a travelling hairdresser and therefore a brilliant prospect.
It seems Lee has been talking to his friends because one of them who had lost his job practically grabbed poor Lee by the throat, wanting to know about this home business he was looking at.
Of course Lee didn’t have much to tell him, so he wanted to know: would I give this guy Simon a call.
I did and sent him an email. Both phone calls took a total of five minutes in between laying the table for lunch. Now I’ve checked and found that the friend has opened the email and clicked on each of the two links three times – so he’s obviously worth talking to again.
The interesting thing now is that Lee must sign up before Simon, otherwise Lee will be in Simon’s team rather than the other way round.
I don’t like to pressurise anyone into joining but sometimes it just happens…
The weekend is time off – but time of in this business is not the same as time off in a conventional job. For one thing, with a conventional job it’s unlikely that you feel you just can’t wait to get started again.
But they say you don’t get into network marketing until network marketing gets into you. And that tends to happen once the money kicks in.
So when the phone rang on Saturday afternoon and a voice said: “I hope you don’t mind me ringing at this time but I work on Saturdays and I thought maybe you did too…”
I went back to work.
It turned out to be someone returning my message. On Friday I’d seen this extraordinary little vehicle; even smaller than a Smart car – just a cab at the front and a billboard at the back with an advert offering advertising space. What intrigued me more was the website address painted across the door: a leafleting company.
“Right,” I said. “Now I left you the message because I had a question to ask you: Would you be interested in an extra income alongside your present business?”
- - - Of course, I’m always interested in income.
“OK then, what I suggest I do is take 30 seconds to tell you what it’s about and you can tell me if you’re interested, is that OK?”
- Yes, go ahead.
“Well, I’m in the utilities business, that’s gas, electricity…”
When I’d finished he asked me how it worked so I gave him “What we’ve got here is a club. It’s called the Utility Warehouse. Have you ever heard of it…”
He thought for a moment and then said: “You know this could work very well with my business. I deliver 35,000 leaflets a day.”
“Now there’s an idea,” I said.
So he went off to look at it – and I went back to my weekend.
+++ STOP PRESS +++
Another bit of weekend stuff:
A call from Lee who I first spoke to back in March and who now wants to come and see me, bringing his wife who is a travelling hairdresser and therefore a brilliant prospect.
It seems Lee has been talking to his friends because one of them who had lost his job practically grabbed poor Lee by the throat, wanting to know about this home business he was looking at.
Of course Lee didn’t have much to tell him, so he wanted to know: would I give this guy Simon a call.
I did and sent him an email. Both phone calls took a total of five minutes in between laying the table for lunch. Now I’ve checked and found that the friend has opened the email and clicked on each of the two links three times – so he’s obviously worth talking to again.
The interesting thing now is that Lee must sign up before Simon, otherwise Lee will be in Simon’s team rather than the other way round.
I don’t like to pressurise anyone into joining but sometimes it just happens…
Saturday, 6 June 2009
New arrivals
by John Passmore
I’ll tell you the point of writing a blog – so you know what you’ve done. I write it in the evening between dinner and clarinet practice and it’s become an essential part of the day. If you read Jim Rohn, you’ll know all about the benefits of writing a journal.
Except last night things were a bit different. We had friends for dinner and it was quarter to midnight by the time we'd cleared up and I went to take the dog out. In the end I found her in the living room. There was an odd squeaking noise like a mouse with its tail stuck in the fridge door.
There was a mouse on the floor! No it was bigger than a mouse… Suddenly I had one of those heart-leaping-into-the-mouth moments: The dog had got hold of one of the children’s bearded dragons! These are lizard-like creatures called Norbert and Kreetcha. It looked as though she’d skinned it.
Then it dawned. The puppies had arrived six days early – or at least the first one had. Over the next two hours a further six arrived (one of them sadly, stillborn).
So you can see why the blog didn’t get done.
And now, do you think I can remember what happened yesterday. All I’ve got is the note on the edge of the page: Gary Newland, John C, MT, email, Rob Brown and Steve Newby. Three of them have ticks against their names which means they wanted to know more (and are now considering it). The others have crosses and didn’t. But more than that it would be cumbersome to tell you. The point is there are six of them.
The one thing it doesn’t cover is that half an hour before our friends were due to arrive for dinner, I discovered we only had one bottle of white wine. I dashed to Budgens and, as usual at the checkout, I turned to the person in front of me and said: “Here you are, I always give one of these to the person in front of me at the queue. It’s about making money.”
“About making money?”
“That’s right, I’m in the utilities business, that gas, electricity, telephones….”
He looked a bit quizzical but the girl behind the checkout had been listening with interest so I thought I’d give her one too – they were A5-sized invitations to the COP that I run off on my printer. But I only had one left and just at that moment the next customer arrived and he seemed a much better prospect (the checkout girl looked about 17) so: “Tell you what,” I told her. “I’ll give you a card instead.”
By this stage I’d caused such a commotion that the man behind wanted to know what it was all about.
So I told him…
I’ll tell you the point of writing a blog – so you know what you’ve done. I write it in the evening between dinner and clarinet practice and it’s become an essential part of the day. If you read Jim Rohn, you’ll know all about the benefits of writing a journal.
Except last night things were a bit different. We had friends for dinner and it was quarter to midnight by the time we'd cleared up and I went to take the dog out. In the end I found her in the living room. There was an odd squeaking noise like a mouse with its tail stuck in the fridge door.
There was a mouse on the floor! No it was bigger than a mouse… Suddenly I had one of those heart-leaping-into-the-mouth moments: The dog had got hold of one of the children’s bearded dragons! These are lizard-like creatures called Norbert and Kreetcha. It looked as though she’d skinned it.
Then it dawned. The puppies had arrived six days early – or at least the first one had. Over the next two hours a further six arrived (one of them sadly, stillborn).
So you can see why the blog didn’t get done.
And now, do you think I can remember what happened yesterday. All I’ve got is the note on the edge of the page: Gary Newland, John C, MT, email, Rob Brown and Steve Newby. Three of them have ticks against their names which means they wanted to know more (and are now considering it). The others have crosses and didn’t. But more than that it would be cumbersome to tell you. The point is there are six of them.
The one thing it doesn’t cover is that half an hour before our friends were due to arrive for dinner, I discovered we only had one bottle of white wine. I dashed to Budgens and, as usual at the checkout, I turned to the person in front of me and said: “Here you are, I always give one of these to the person in front of me at the queue. It’s about making money.”
“About making money?”
“That’s right, I’m in the utilities business, that gas, electricity, telephones….”
He looked a bit quizzical but the girl behind the checkout had been listening with interest so I thought I’d give her one too – they were A5-sized invitations to the COP that I run off on my printer. But I only had one left and just at that moment the next customer arrived and he seemed a much better prospect (the checkout girl looked about 17) so: “Tell you what,” I told her. “I’ll give you a card instead.”
By this stage I’d caused such a commotion that the man behind wanted to know what it was all about.
So I told him…
Thursday, 4 June 2009
Democracy is a wonderful thing
by John Passmore
It would be great if Ed did really well. He’s one of my favourite stories – how a customer rang complaining his phone was out of order, how I got it fixed and then said: “Are you happy with the service I’ve been able to give you today?
“…well who do you know who would like that kind of service too?”
And two days later Ed and Carol signed up – and Carol became a distributor.
I remember Ed being really sceptical. He was the manager of one of the best restaurants in town. He really looked down on this little part time business of his wife’s.
At least he did until the restaurant closed and he lost his job. That was two months ago and he hasn’t found another one. Now he’s joined Carol as a distributor and I’ve never seen anyone more determined to make a go of it.
Which was why, when I suggested we do some Win-a-Mini down in the town, he came up with: “Why don’t we go to the polling station. There’ll be loads of people there.”
And sure enough he was right– and best of all, they all seemed to be his neighbours. In 90 minutes Ed made four appointments.
And I got three (one at 7.00 a.m.!) and, of course, I had no trouble talking to my six today.
More to the point are the phone calls I made while waiting outside the after-school maths class and then again at the Scout Hut.
First I flicked idly through the contacts in the Blackberry and came up with a guy I first spoke to in July last year and then in January this year. We had talked, he was interested but somehow it never progressed. However it is said in marketing lore that it takes seven “touches” before people buy.
And he’d only had two. I called him again. We talked again. This time he wants me to give him a lift to the Norwich COP…
Emboldened by this, I pulled out the phone again a couple of hours later while sitting on the quay by the river waiting for my beaver scout to be dismissed. I rang a woman I first spoke to in June 2007.
And guess what she said: “Yes, this time I really think I’ll make it.”
We’ll see, of course. But this business is rife with people who had to be asked half a dozen times.
Can't understand it myself - but we have to work with what we get.
It would be great if Ed did really well. He’s one of my favourite stories – how a customer rang complaining his phone was out of order, how I got it fixed and then said: “Are you happy with the service I’ve been able to give you today?
“…well who do you know who would like that kind of service too?”
And two days later Ed and Carol signed up – and Carol became a distributor.
I remember Ed being really sceptical. He was the manager of one of the best restaurants in town. He really looked down on this little part time business of his wife’s.
At least he did until the restaurant closed and he lost his job. That was two months ago and he hasn’t found another one. Now he’s joined Carol as a distributor and I’ve never seen anyone more determined to make a go of it.
Which was why, when I suggested we do some Win-a-Mini down in the town, he came up with: “Why don’t we go to the polling station. There’ll be loads of people there.”
And sure enough he was right– and best of all, they all seemed to be his neighbours. In 90 minutes Ed made four appointments.
And I got three (one at 7.00 a.m.!) and, of course, I had no trouble talking to my six today.
More to the point are the phone calls I made while waiting outside the after-school maths class and then again at the Scout Hut.
First I flicked idly through the contacts in the Blackberry and came up with a guy I first spoke to in July last year and then in January this year. We had talked, he was interested but somehow it never progressed. However it is said in marketing lore that it takes seven “touches” before people buy.
And he’d only had two. I called him again. We talked again. This time he wants me to give him a lift to the Norwich COP…
Emboldened by this, I pulled out the phone again a couple of hours later while sitting on the quay by the river waiting for my beaver scout to be dismissed. I rang a woman I first spoke to in June 2007.
And guess what she said: “Yes, this time I really think I’ll make it.”
We’ll see, of course. But this business is rife with people who had to be asked half a dozen times.
Can't understand it myself - but we have to work with what we get.
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
Belly to Belly with the Money
by John Passmore
Once you’ve decided you are going to say your 30 second thing to six new people every day, it becomes quite an obsession. You find yourself thinking up new and ingenious ways of putting yourself in front of those six people – belly to belly as the Americans have a charming way of putting it.
So it happened that about a week ago I picked up a flyer that came through the door inviting: “Teach me to Trade” – a free seminar lasting 90 minutes at the local Holiday Inn during which I would be given an insight into how I could make my fortune on the stock market.
Now it just so happens I’ve been through this. Before I discovered network marketing, I tried to get out of my financial predicament by trading commodity futures on the internet – a frighteningly risky business. That is to say the risk is completely unlimited. If you lose they can take your “last collar stud”.
I didn’t lose quite that much. But on the other hand after an entertaining roller coaster ride, I didn’t make anything either. So I wasn’t much interested in what these people had to offer. But it did occur to me that there would be some guests there who were interested in making money.
So I reserved my seat.
There were about 15 of us in the room and I sat between two men of my own age who I judged were having pension problems. The seminar was essentially a sales pitch for a three-day course costing £349 during which you would be taught what to do with a piece of software costing an additional £1,300 a year. There was no mention of getting your money back other than by making a profit on your trades.
Afterwards, as I suspected, people stood about in groups and compared notes. The talk, inevitably, was about how to make money.
“Well, I’m in the Utilities business..” I said to one person after another.
I walked away with the names, phone numbers and email address of five people – including the salesman.
... and don't worry, I'd already talked to another four on the phone before I got there...
Once you’ve decided you are going to say your 30 second thing to six new people every day, it becomes quite an obsession. You find yourself thinking up new and ingenious ways of putting yourself in front of those six people – belly to belly as the Americans have a charming way of putting it.
So it happened that about a week ago I picked up a flyer that came through the door inviting: “Teach me to Trade” – a free seminar lasting 90 minutes at the local Holiday Inn during which I would be given an insight into how I could make my fortune on the stock market.
Now it just so happens I’ve been through this. Before I discovered network marketing, I tried to get out of my financial predicament by trading commodity futures on the internet – a frighteningly risky business. That is to say the risk is completely unlimited. If you lose they can take your “last collar stud”.
I didn’t lose quite that much. But on the other hand after an entertaining roller coaster ride, I didn’t make anything either. So I wasn’t much interested in what these people had to offer. But it did occur to me that there would be some guests there who were interested in making money.
So I reserved my seat.
There were about 15 of us in the room and I sat between two men of my own age who I judged were having pension problems. The seminar was essentially a sales pitch for a three-day course costing £349 during which you would be taught what to do with a piece of software costing an additional £1,300 a year. There was no mention of getting your money back other than by making a profit on your trades.
Afterwards, as I suspected, people stood about in groups and compared notes. The talk, inevitably, was about how to make money.
“Well, I’m in the Utilities business..” I said to one person after another.
I walked away with the names, phone numbers and email address of five people – including the salesman.
... and don't worry, I'd already talked to another four on the phone before I got there...
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
Mistakes Happen
by John Passmore
It was the mistake early on that threw me – and if you let your guard drop for an instant, you can always make mistakes.
I was doing pretty well – I had people ringing me up. Admittedly, they were returning calls that I had made in response to their responses. But a call is a call and by ten in the morning, I was a third of the way to my six.
But then, after I had been through my 30-second thing and the guy on the other end said: “How does it all work?” I made the mistake
“Well it’s a discount club,” I said. “It’s called the Utility Warehouse. Have you ever heard of it?” and before I knew where I was, I was in the middle of the 30 second thing about the services.
Now you might consider this no great disaster – after all that’s what we want to do, isn’t it? Tell people about the club. But I had already told him too much.
“OK,” he said. “I’ll look it up>”
“I’ll send you an email about it,” I offered quickly. “”What’s your email address?”
“It’s OK, I’ll look it up.”
Moral: Don’t answer any questions until you have the three key pieces of information: Name, phone number and email address.
So that threw me and by 5.00 p.m. I had only talked to four people and it was time to light the barbeque. Thank heavens I had to go across to the garden centre to buy more charcoal. The man on the checkout looked cheerful but there was a woman in the queue behind me. But she was looking at the displays. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry.
Anyway, I was desperate. So I said to the checkout man: “You seem cheerful. Is it the weather or are you always this cheerful.”
“Oh it’s not the weather. I’m always cheerful.”
“Well did you know cheerful people can make a very good extra income? I could tell you about it if you like. Have you got 30 seconds?
And I then proceeded to do the fastest 30 seconds you’ve ever heard… while the woman behind me watched goggle-eyed.
But guess what, I got his email address and his phone number!
Still one short though. But after the hot dogs, and taking Theo to Athletics and dropping in on a team meeting before going back to the track, I found myself hanging around waiting for the high jump to finish. There were a lot of parents hanging around. I wandered over and stood next to a man with long grey hair. He could have been any age.
”Not so bad hanging about on an evening like this – I can’t be doing with those dark winter evenings,” I ventured.
Thinking about it now it was a ridiculous opening but the thing is that nobody thinks about that at the time. Within a couple of minutes he was telling me he’d played football in the afternoon.
“I bet you know a lot of people,” I said, impressed. “The rest of the team and so on. Did you know you can make a very good extra income if you know a lot of people? I could tell you about it in 3o seconds. D’you want to hear it?”
“All right, “ he said.
So I told him – and he gave me his email address. But guess what, he couldn’t remember his phone number.
Maybe he just didn’t want to give it to me but I had the impression that he really never did ring himself, as he put it.
Anyway this time I didn’t feel it was my fault.
It was the mistake early on that threw me – and if you let your guard drop for an instant, you can always make mistakes.
I was doing pretty well – I had people ringing me up. Admittedly, they were returning calls that I had made in response to their responses. But a call is a call and by ten in the morning, I was a third of the way to my six.
But then, after I had been through my 30-second thing and the guy on the other end said: “How does it all work?” I made the mistake
“Well it’s a discount club,” I said. “It’s called the Utility Warehouse. Have you ever heard of it?” and before I knew where I was, I was in the middle of the 30 second thing about the services.
Now you might consider this no great disaster – after all that’s what we want to do, isn’t it? Tell people about the club. But I had already told him too much.
“OK,” he said. “I’ll look it up>”
“I’ll send you an email about it,” I offered quickly. “”What’s your email address?”
“It’s OK, I’ll look it up.”
Moral: Don’t answer any questions until you have the three key pieces of information: Name, phone number and email address.
So that threw me and by 5.00 p.m. I had only talked to four people and it was time to light the barbeque. Thank heavens I had to go across to the garden centre to buy more charcoal. The man on the checkout looked cheerful but there was a woman in the queue behind me. But she was looking at the displays. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry.
Anyway, I was desperate. So I said to the checkout man: “You seem cheerful. Is it the weather or are you always this cheerful.”
“Oh it’s not the weather. I’m always cheerful.”
“Well did you know cheerful people can make a very good extra income? I could tell you about it if you like. Have you got 30 seconds?
And I then proceeded to do the fastest 30 seconds you’ve ever heard… while the woman behind me watched goggle-eyed.
But guess what, I got his email address and his phone number!
Still one short though. But after the hot dogs, and taking Theo to Athletics and dropping in on a team meeting before going back to the track, I found myself hanging around waiting for the high jump to finish. There were a lot of parents hanging around. I wandered over and stood next to a man with long grey hair. He could have been any age.
”Not so bad hanging about on an evening like this – I can’t be doing with those dark winter evenings,” I ventured.
Thinking about it now it was a ridiculous opening but the thing is that nobody thinks about that at the time. Within a couple of minutes he was telling me he’d played football in the afternoon.
“I bet you know a lot of people,” I said, impressed. “The rest of the team and so on. Did you know you can make a very good extra income if you know a lot of people? I could tell you about it in 3o seconds. D’you want to hear it?”
“All right, “ he said.
So I told him – and he gave me his email address. But guess what, he couldn’t remember his phone number.
Maybe he just didn’t want to give it to me but I had the impression that he really never did ring himself, as he put it.
Anyway this time I didn’t feel it was my fault.
Monday, 1 June 2009
Gone fishing
by John Passmore
You would think that two appointments on a Monday morning would be a good start to the week. Fine except for one thing – if I wasn’t going to start talking to anybody new until after lunch what were the chances of my getting my six today?
A bit defeatist, I know, but before I left, I raided the Services Directory – the little book that came through the door last week full of adverts from small businesses. Harvesting the mobile numbers from pages 10-15, I sent a dozen texts.
I went off for my appointment thinking how much this business is like fishing. I had this overwhelming impression of just having baited my lobster pots!
I should have taken warning from the fact that the couple I went to see lived on benefits. But they were paying £100 a month on phone calls because most of their friends didn’t have landlines so I was sure I could save them a fortune. When I got there I discovered why they were with BT: “We don’t have to pay the bill for three months – and then we can reckon we can get away with another three months before they cut us off. Then we’ll get a mobile.”
Politely I told them I didn’t think they qualified for membership…
Back home to inspect the lobster pots: Six replies which is very good. They ranged from “Doing What?” to “Always prepared to listen. Any day 1-2 is best for me.”
I got through to three straight away and two wanted to look at the website.
Then Colin, the new distributor came for his Meeting One. Item Five on the agenda is “Start Prospect List”. He had already done so.
“OK,” I said. “So who are your top three people – the friendliest, most enthusiastic and ambitious three? What I suggest we do is ring them now and see if they’d like to join us.”
A cloud passed across Colin’s face – as I knew it would: “Ah yes,” he said. “This is the bit I’ve been dreading.”
The fact is that absolutely everyone feels embarrassed about ringing up their friends and seeing if they want to join. So we talked a bit about whether he would feel embarrassed about recommending a restaurant - or whether it would be OK to recommend it just as long as they didn’t actually go.
“Tell you what, “ I suggested. “I’ll ring them up.”
And that’s what I did: “Hello Brian. My name’s John Passmore. You don’t know me but I’m sitting here with your friend Colin. He’s just started a new business and I’m helping him. I asked him who were his three friendliest, most enthusiastic and ambitious friends and immediately he thought of you. So here he is.”
And Colin took the phone and said something like: “Hi Brian, how are you. Yes I’m starting a new business. Is it OK if John tells you about it?”
And I took the phone back and said: “OK Brian, what I suggest is that I take 30 seconds to tell you about it and you can tell me if you’re interested, OK?”
And I did. And he was.
We did this three times in quick succession and now three of Colin’s friends are looking at the website.
Best of all Colin has completely lost his fear of introducing his friends. Rather to his surprise they all seem very keen!
And best of all, I had now spoken to my six people and it was still only 12.30…
So everything that happened after that was a bonus – like the man in the carpet shop and the woman on the ice cream stand. By this stage I didn’t really need them but somehow we fell into conversation and it seemed a pity to waste it…
You would think that two appointments on a Monday morning would be a good start to the week. Fine except for one thing – if I wasn’t going to start talking to anybody new until after lunch what were the chances of my getting my six today?
A bit defeatist, I know, but before I left, I raided the Services Directory – the little book that came through the door last week full of adverts from small businesses. Harvesting the mobile numbers from pages 10-15, I sent a dozen texts.
I went off for my appointment thinking how much this business is like fishing. I had this overwhelming impression of just having baited my lobster pots!
I should have taken warning from the fact that the couple I went to see lived on benefits. But they were paying £100 a month on phone calls because most of their friends didn’t have landlines so I was sure I could save them a fortune. When I got there I discovered why they were with BT: “We don’t have to pay the bill for three months – and then we can reckon we can get away with another three months before they cut us off. Then we’ll get a mobile.”
Politely I told them I didn’t think they qualified for membership…
Back home to inspect the lobster pots: Six replies which is very good. They ranged from “Doing What?” to “Always prepared to listen. Any day 1-2 is best for me.”
I got through to three straight away and two wanted to look at the website.
Then Colin, the new distributor came for his Meeting One. Item Five on the agenda is “Start Prospect List”. He had already done so.
“OK,” I said. “So who are your top three people – the friendliest, most enthusiastic and ambitious three? What I suggest we do is ring them now and see if they’d like to join us.”
A cloud passed across Colin’s face – as I knew it would: “Ah yes,” he said. “This is the bit I’ve been dreading.”
The fact is that absolutely everyone feels embarrassed about ringing up their friends and seeing if they want to join. So we talked a bit about whether he would feel embarrassed about recommending a restaurant - or whether it would be OK to recommend it just as long as they didn’t actually go.
“Tell you what, “ I suggested. “I’ll ring them up.”
And that’s what I did: “Hello Brian. My name’s John Passmore. You don’t know me but I’m sitting here with your friend Colin. He’s just started a new business and I’m helping him. I asked him who were his three friendliest, most enthusiastic and ambitious friends and immediately he thought of you. So here he is.”
And Colin took the phone and said something like: “Hi Brian, how are you. Yes I’m starting a new business. Is it OK if John tells you about it?”
And I took the phone back and said: “OK Brian, what I suggest is that I take 30 seconds to tell you about it and you can tell me if you’re interested, OK?”
And I did. And he was.
We did this three times in quick succession and now three of Colin’s friends are looking at the website.
Best of all Colin has completely lost his fear of introducing his friends. Rather to his surprise they all seem very keen!
And best of all, I had now spoken to my six people and it was still only 12.30…
So everything that happened after that was a bonus – like the man in the carpet shop and the woman on the ice cream stand. By this stage I didn’t really need them but somehow we fell into conversation and it seemed a pity to waste it…
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