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Entry tags:
why don't people know how to sell me things?
I find it interesting how I react to people trying to sell me things.
A Tale of Two Cars
When I last bought a car, I was trying to choose between two different cars at two different locations.
On the first weekend, we went to a car yard, and met Salesman Sam. Sam was friendly, in a way which wasn't pushy. He came across as someone who would be nice and chat to me while I was there, and totally not care about me after I'd gone - because he wasn't being friendly because I was important to him, but because he was innately a friendly person, and I just happened to be there for him to be friendly with.
He was, of course, interested in selling me a car. So we chatted about what kind of car I wanted, and he showed me a few options. Then I said I wanted to think about it, so he shook my hand, said goodbye, and went off to sell a car to someone else.
On the second weekend, we went to a different car yard, and met Salesman Steve. Steve was... pushy. He must have asked me about six times "What can I do to get you to make a deal?" He gave me the car to take for a test afternoon (seriously - I had it for about four hours). He asked me lots of questions about what I liked about it, what my budget was, and, yet again, what he could do to get me to make a deal.
He also forgot my name. Twice.
I... am not a fan of being pushed into things. The harder Steve pushed, the more I started feeling uncomfortable, and wanting to not buy a car from him.
So we left. And decided to walk across the road to Sam's car yard, and look at the first car again.
(This was a week since our last visit.)
Sam saw me coming, grinned, greeted us both by name, and made a comment about Kidlet Primus that showed he'd been paying attention to my silly banter during our first chat. He then led us straight to the car we'd been looking at.
...and I fell madly in love with Sam and decided I would do anything to buy a car from him.
I find it rather fascinating that I reacted to these men so differently. Both were trying to sell me a car. Both would presumably get the same benefits from successfully selling me their car. And yet Steve was pushy and didn't know my name; Sam was laid back and yet remembered everything about me.
For the last few years I have remembered these guys as basic representatives of the two types of salesman.
...which brings us to today, and my encounter with Salesman Type 3.
Greenpeace, and Slick Sales
Recently, I clicked on a link which took me to a petition. And signed it, because I think the issue in question is an important one. Today, Salesman Slick called me up, to talk to me about Greenpeace.
This guy was trained.
Step 1: Greet customer by name, and ask them about themselves. Find out who they are, and tell them how interesting they are as a person.
He asked me what my job was, and sounded fascinated by everything I told him.
Step 2: Proceed in small steps. Lead the customer, step by step, through things that are thoroughly agreeable. Ask the customer questions - where they'd clearly have to be a monster to say "no", so they'll definitely keep saying "yes".
"Deird, it's important to care for our environment, don't you agree?"
"Isn't it horrible, Deird, that the oceans are getting filled with plastic?"
"Deird, we really need to do something to address this environmental disaster. Is that important to you, Deird?"
Step 3: Get the customer to buy in. Ask for a verbal commitment to what you've been saying. Ask them to take action now, while you've got them invested.
He walked me through every stage of agreeing with their awesome environmental mission, and got me so close to the step where he asked for my credit card details.
And the thing is, he was slick, and polished, and SO trained at getting the customer to do what he wants. But... I know those tricks. And even though he could indeed lead me round by the nose, I knew damn well that he was manipulating me, and that he didn't really give a damn about my oh-so-fascinating job.
It was subtler, but in his own way he was just as pushy as Salesman Steve.
And I hate pushy. It gets my hackles up.
Whereas, if Salesman Slick had just rung me up and said "Hi! I'm from Greenpeace! You clearly care enough about this issue to sign a petition – want to give us some money?", then I probably would have given him something.
A Tale of Two Cars
When I last bought a car, I was trying to choose between two different cars at two different locations.
On the first weekend, we went to a car yard, and met Salesman Sam. Sam was friendly, in a way which wasn't pushy. He came across as someone who would be nice and chat to me while I was there, and totally not care about me after I'd gone - because he wasn't being friendly because I was important to him, but because he was innately a friendly person, and I just happened to be there for him to be friendly with.
He was, of course, interested in selling me a car. So we chatted about what kind of car I wanted, and he showed me a few options. Then I said I wanted to think about it, so he shook my hand, said goodbye, and went off to sell a car to someone else.
On the second weekend, we went to a different car yard, and met Salesman Steve. Steve was... pushy. He must have asked me about six times "What can I do to get you to make a deal?" He gave me the car to take for a test afternoon (seriously - I had it for about four hours). He asked me lots of questions about what I liked about it, what my budget was, and, yet again, what he could do to get me to make a deal.
He also forgot my name. Twice.
I... am not a fan of being pushed into things. The harder Steve pushed, the more I started feeling uncomfortable, and wanting to not buy a car from him.
So we left. And decided to walk across the road to Sam's car yard, and look at the first car again.
(This was a week since our last visit.)
Sam saw me coming, grinned, greeted us both by name, and made a comment about Kidlet Primus that showed he'd been paying attention to my silly banter during our first chat. He then led us straight to the car we'd been looking at.
...and I fell madly in love with Sam and decided I would do anything to buy a car from him.
I find it rather fascinating that I reacted to these men so differently. Both were trying to sell me a car. Both would presumably get the same benefits from successfully selling me their car. And yet Steve was pushy and didn't know my name; Sam was laid back and yet remembered everything about me.
For the last few years I have remembered these guys as basic representatives of the two types of salesman.
...which brings us to today, and my encounter with Salesman Type 3.
Greenpeace, and Slick Sales
Recently, I clicked on a link which took me to a petition. And signed it, because I think the issue in question is an important one. Today, Salesman Slick called me up, to talk to me about Greenpeace.
This guy was trained.
Step 1: Greet customer by name, and ask them about themselves. Find out who they are, and tell them how interesting they are as a person.
He asked me what my job was, and sounded fascinated by everything I told him.
Step 2: Proceed in small steps. Lead the customer, step by step, through things that are thoroughly agreeable. Ask the customer questions - where they'd clearly have to be a monster to say "no", so they'll definitely keep saying "yes".
"Deird, it's important to care for our environment, don't you agree?"
"Isn't it horrible, Deird, that the oceans are getting filled with plastic?"
"Deird, we really need to do something to address this environmental disaster. Is that important to you, Deird?"
Step 3: Get the customer to buy in. Ask for a verbal commitment to what you've been saying. Ask them to take action now, while you've got them invested.
He walked me through every stage of agreeing with their awesome environmental mission, and got me so close to the step where he asked for my credit card details.
And the thing is, he was slick, and polished, and SO trained at getting the customer to do what he wants. But... I know those tricks. And even though he could indeed lead me round by the nose, I knew damn well that he was manipulating me, and that he didn't really give a damn about my oh-so-fascinating job.
It was subtler, but in his own way he was just as pushy as Salesman Steve.
And I hate pushy. It gets my hackles up.
Whereas, if Salesman Slick had just rung me up and said "Hi! I'm from Greenpeace! You clearly care enough about this issue to sign a petition – want to give us some money?", then I probably would have given him something.