It was a beautiful sunny day in Seattle, the third week in March 2003. I was headed to Starbucks attached to the local grocery store. March Madness and Girl Scout Cookies were everywhere. I was thinking about the days activities ahead. Two young Girl Scout merchants, 11 year olds and their moms where just setting up a TV tray to display their wares. I immediately looked away. If I don’t make eye contact, they won’t see me!
As I stood in line for coffee, I began to question my attitude about buying cookies from Girl Scouts. Why am I such a Scrooge about helping out these young entrepreneurs? Answer? My wife always buys a box or two. As if that were not enough, hey, I sure don’t need the empty calories. I had a hundred excuses but not one good reason. Right then and there, I changed my attitude. I went back outside with my Venti drip coffee in hand.
“So, why should I buy some cookies from you?” I asked with a mock sarcasm. I was having a little bit of fun and testing their sales acumen. The most assertive of the two girls said, “Cause they taste good,” in the meek quiet voice. “Why else?” I asked with a grin. The other girl chimed in, “Because we are raising money for a trip!” Like Raptors, they were double teaming me and building momentum. Now in both responses, they were telling me about what I like to call “Company Centered Features.” Features never inspired me to buy anything. Benefits that matter to me on the other hand capture my attention and inspire me to think about parting with my hard earned cash.
I looked up at the moms and asked, “If I share some ideas with you that will help you sell a lot more boxes of cookies, would you apply them today?” Their mothers leaned forward and nudged them as if to say, it’s okay. “Yes,” the girl scouts replied with a furrowed and skeptical brow.
Now I was in full throttle mentor mode. “I want to tell you about the ‘Six Magic Words,’ that is, how to turn a feature into a benefit.” They were leaning forward to listen. “What That Means To You Is…” Without taking a breath, I continued, “Let’s take what you said to me already. ‘They taste good.’ What that means to me is, ‘They’ll taste good WITH MY COFFEE!’ Now that’s a benefit that matters to me.”
Picking up on the principle, they applied it to the other feature they shared; ‘Raising money for a trip’ was transformed into ‘What that means to me is ‘You’ll feel good about helping a worthy cause’. It was clear the mom’s were grateful.
“One more thing,” I said in a more serious tone. “From now on instead of asking ‘Would you like to buy some cookies (or not)?’ you are going to ask, ‘Would you like two boxes or four, which would you prefer?’ ”
The more assertive of two Girl Scouts processed all I had to offer, paused about five seconds and piped up with, “Okay, you are going to feel great about this investment because it’s for a good cause and they’ll go great with your coffee. Would you like to buy two boxes or four, which would you prefer?”
Guess who walked away with two boxes of mint flavored, chocolate Girl Scout Cookies?
I came back for a refill an hour later to find the two girls and their moms laughing and talking in the Starbucks. “How come you’re not selling cookies?” I asked a little surprised. “Oh, we sold them all, 46 boxes. Now we are going to go help the other girls in our troop!”
The sunny day seemed just a little brighter. Now the only problem I had was what to do with 100 cookies I didn’t need. This experience just re-confirmed what I have known for some time, women (and girls) are smarter than men. I’m gonna need a lot more coffee while I watch some basketball and eat these cookies.
Always offer a choice of yeses in any sales offering. The alternative advance close is still one the best ways to ask for the sale.
Mark Matteson
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Mexican or Italian?
It was the fall of 2000. I had been in Dallas, Texas for four days conducting seminars with a fine group of successful contractors. Sales training. We covered all aspects of the sales cycle: suspects, prospects, qualifying, writing proposals, asking for the sale and following up. I had come back with a slight southern drawl. I learned the plural of “You-all” (pronounced YAWL) is “All-YAWL!” Good stuff. I love Texans. They just might be the most polite people in the United States.
My wife picked me up at the airport. She had been in Court Reporting for 18 years. It was a fine career but things had changed; Margins shrinking, a glut of lawyers in Seattle, increased competition from Technology (the unspeakable, being replaced by video!) and of course, motherhood. She was a fine court reporter. It’s the toughest kind of mental work. You had to be perfect, capture every word. She worked for one of the largest and most prestigious firms in Seattle. Her technical competence assured repeat business. I was about to find out she was world class on the topic of INFLUENCE.
As we drove away from Sea-Tac airport in late afternoon on that beautiful fall day, a smile appeared in the corner of her mouth, like the gentle wiggle of a cat’s tail just before it pounces on its prey. “How was your flight?” “Oh, fine. I read most of the way.” I looked out the window as she drove. As we came to a stop at the light, she turned to me, lowered her voice an octave and in a sultry, soft tone said, “Are you hungry?” Now this was a loaded question. I am always hungry! “Starving!” I replied. “Well,” she said, in a gentle whisper, “I could make dinner, and then do the dishes, and I wouldn’t really get to hear how your trip was. So…I was just wondering, would going out to a Mexican restaurant be good, or would Italian be better? Which would you prefer?” Without hesitation or any real thought, I said, “Italian!” It wasn’t until I was dipping the bread in the olive oil; I realized what she had done to me!
In sales, I teach the “Choice of Yeses.” When it’s time to ask for the sale, you offer the prospect two or three choices, the first option is your personal preference and the one that is also in the prospect’s enlightened self-interest. That is exactly what Debbie had done to me. She knew I would choose Italian if followed by the word “Better.” As far as I know, she has never attended a sales training class, (mine or anyone else’s). This proves a point I have long contended, women are smarter than men in many areas.
What was particularly powerful about this experience was I never knew it was happening to me. It was sooo smooth, sooo seamless. Man, she was good (or should I say woman, she was good?) With the four-legs of the Sales chair: Trust, Relationship, Competence and Timing: Timing was the biggest factor. I was hungry, therefore, near helpless. I never had a chance.
Remember the next time you need to close an important sale, offer a choice of Yeses. Say, are you hungry? Mexican or Italian, which would you prefer?
Look for the causes of your success. If someone tells you that you were great, say, ‘Thank you. Why do you say that?’ and listen. Only then will we know the common denominators of success.
Mark Matteson
My wife picked me up at the airport. She had been in Court Reporting for 18 years. It was a fine career but things had changed; Margins shrinking, a glut of lawyers in Seattle, increased competition from Technology (the unspeakable, being replaced by video!) and of course, motherhood. She was a fine court reporter. It’s the toughest kind of mental work. You had to be perfect, capture every word. She worked for one of the largest and most prestigious firms in Seattle. Her technical competence assured repeat business. I was about to find out she was world class on the topic of INFLUENCE.
As we drove away from Sea-Tac airport in late afternoon on that beautiful fall day, a smile appeared in the corner of her mouth, like the gentle wiggle of a cat’s tail just before it pounces on its prey. “How was your flight?” “Oh, fine. I read most of the way.” I looked out the window as she drove. As we came to a stop at the light, she turned to me, lowered her voice an octave and in a sultry, soft tone said, “Are you hungry?” Now this was a loaded question. I am always hungry! “Starving!” I replied. “Well,” she said, in a gentle whisper, “I could make dinner, and then do the dishes, and I wouldn’t really get to hear how your trip was. So…I was just wondering, would going out to a Mexican restaurant be good, or would Italian be better? Which would you prefer?” Without hesitation or any real thought, I said, “Italian!” It wasn’t until I was dipping the bread in the olive oil; I realized what she had done to me!
In sales, I teach the “Choice of Yeses.” When it’s time to ask for the sale, you offer the prospect two or three choices, the first option is your personal preference and the one that is also in the prospect’s enlightened self-interest. That is exactly what Debbie had done to me. She knew I would choose Italian if followed by the word “Better.” As far as I know, she has never attended a sales training class, (mine or anyone else’s). This proves a point I have long contended, women are smarter than men in many areas.
What was particularly powerful about this experience was I never knew it was happening to me. It was sooo smooth, sooo seamless. Man, she was good (or should I say woman, she was good?) With the four-legs of the Sales chair: Trust, Relationship, Competence and Timing: Timing was the biggest factor. I was hungry, therefore, near helpless. I never had a chance.
Remember the next time you need to close an important sale, offer a choice of Yeses. Say, are you hungry? Mexican or Italian, which would you prefer?
Look for the causes of your success. If someone tells you that you were great, say, ‘Thank you. Why do you say that?’ and listen. Only then will we know the common denominators of success.
Mark Matteson
Your Shoes Are Too Small
It was the summer of 1992, my Dad and I were playing a game of cribbage.
He was stealing points from me (his way of ‘Teaching’ me the game) when he grimaced. I thought it was a pang of conscious about cheating at cards.
I was wrong.
He took his shoes off and started rubbing his feet. “What’s wrong Dad?” I asked with genuine concern. My Dad was a guy that NEVER complained or went to the doctor. “Oh, it’s my feet son. They’re killing me.” I leaned forward and asked, “What did the doctor say?” “Oh he wants me to have an operation. I don’t want to,” he said with real fear in his voice. “Did you get a second opinion?” already knowing the answer before I asked. “Play cards,” was all he said.
The next day I called a physician client of mine. I asked about the best foot doctor in Seattle. He gave me two names, both at the University of Washington hospital. It took some doing but Dad finally relented. We played another game of cribbage two weeks later.
“What happened at the UW Hospital Dad?” “Oh well he was a real nice young man. He asked me a few questions, you know the usual.” He paused for minute, a little embarrassed about what followed. “Then he asked me what size shoe I wore? I told him 13.” He then me asked, “How long have you worn a 13?” I told him, “Since I was 14 years old.” Then he measures his foot with one of those shoe size devices. “Well Bob, according to my calculations, you wear a 15 triple E. There will be no operation for you. I want you to go home and donate all your size 13 shoes to Goodwill. Go buy a pair of Birkenstocks and a pair of Rockport’s, both size 15 EEE. Will you do that Bob?”
I looked down at his feet. He had on a pair of open toed Birkenstocks. He looked like every other neo-hippie in Seattle. “How do your feet feel now?” I asked. “Great! I am glad I went to the doctor.” Now for him to say that is like President Bush saying he hates the oil industry.
Two weeks afterward, I was sitting in the office of a Facilities Manager. He managed one of the largest buildings in Seattle. He was hesitating, balking at authorizing the agreement in front of him. It was for $75,000, a big commitment. He was afraid of what the repair costs would be once we began inspecting the HVAC equipment. Would it be $500 or $50,000 in fix up costs?
I told him the story about my Dad’s shoes. He listened intently. I concluded with the following statement, “You and I have no idea what we will find once we get in there. It could be that your shoes are too small and you don’t need an operation. There is only one way to find out…” I slid the agreement across the desk.
The story about my father was the perfect metaphor. The One-Time Maintenance or Building Audit I offered as a shallow end of the pool strategy was like trying the Birkenstocks for a couple of days. With that work, we would generate a comprehensive list of things to be done. The logic was irrefutable. He signed the agreement.
I learned some valuable lessons about stories, metaphors, shoes and second opinions. I sure wish I could play some cribbage with my Dad. I miss him.
I think I’ll call my son.
“Nothing happens until a sale is made.”
Red Motley
He was stealing points from me (his way of ‘Teaching’ me the game) when he grimaced. I thought it was a pang of conscious about cheating at cards.
I was wrong.
He took his shoes off and started rubbing his feet. “What’s wrong Dad?” I asked with genuine concern. My Dad was a guy that NEVER complained or went to the doctor. “Oh, it’s my feet son. They’re killing me.” I leaned forward and asked, “What did the doctor say?” “Oh he wants me to have an operation. I don’t want to,” he said with real fear in his voice. “Did you get a second opinion?” already knowing the answer before I asked. “Play cards,” was all he said.
The next day I called a physician client of mine. I asked about the best foot doctor in Seattle. He gave me two names, both at the University of Washington hospital. It took some doing but Dad finally relented. We played another game of cribbage two weeks later.
“What happened at the UW Hospital Dad?” “Oh well he was a real nice young man. He asked me a few questions, you know the usual.” He paused for minute, a little embarrassed about what followed. “Then he asked me what size shoe I wore? I told him 13.” He then me asked, “How long have you worn a 13?” I told him, “Since I was 14 years old.” Then he measures his foot with one of those shoe size devices. “Well Bob, according to my calculations, you wear a 15 triple E. There will be no operation for you. I want you to go home and donate all your size 13 shoes to Goodwill. Go buy a pair of Birkenstocks and a pair of Rockport’s, both size 15 EEE. Will you do that Bob?”
I looked down at his feet. He had on a pair of open toed Birkenstocks. He looked like every other neo-hippie in Seattle. “How do your feet feel now?” I asked. “Great! I am glad I went to the doctor.” Now for him to say that is like President Bush saying he hates the oil industry.
Two weeks afterward, I was sitting in the office of a Facilities Manager. He managed one of the largest buildings in Seattle. He was hesitating, balking at authorizing the agreement in front of him. It was for $75,000, a big commitment. He was afraid of what the repair costs would be once we began inspecting the HVAC equipment. Would it be $500 or $50,000 in fix up costs?
I told him the story about my Dad’s shoes. He listened intently. I concluded with the following statement, “You and I have no idea what we will find once we get in there. It could be that your shoes are too small and you don’t need an operation. There is only one way to find out…” I slid the agreement across the desk.
The story about my father was the perfect metaphor. The One-Time Maintenance or Building Audit I offered as a shallow end of the pool strategy was like trying the Birkenstocks for a couple of days. With that work, we would generate a comprehensive list of things to be done. The logic was irrefutable. He signed the agreement.
I learned some valuable lessons about stories, metaphors, shoes and second opinions. I sure wish I could play some cribbage with my Dad. I miss him.
I think I’ll call my son.
“Nothing happens until a sale is made.”
Red Motley
Nose of the Camel
It was 1990. My new job was to sell Commercial Service Agreements. It was a fine company. They were growing. They wanted to expand their Service Base. I had a territory that no one wanted. It was the farthest away from the office. “There is no business there!” was all I heard from everyone when I first took the job. I also heard, “You’re nuts! Why did you give up the security of being a Technician?” I was a little nervous. Who was I going to call?
I had to. I was stale. I was restless. I was a C+ technician on my best day.
But I had people skills. I made friends easily. I liked people. I took the personality profile. I was made for the job. I read a lot. I was curious. I was ambitious. I have always been an entrepreneur. Now I was an Intra-prenuer.
Selling Commercial Service agreements in Seattle Washington is tough. The Pacific North-WET. Average annual rainfall, 32 inches. Average annual temperature, 55 degrees. When compressors fail, we switch to Outside Air, Economizer mode, aka, “Free cooling :-)
I was calling on people who didn’t want to see me and talk about something they didn’t care about. Out of sight, out of mind. I was selling an intangible. Getting the appointment is the toughest part of the sale. I would walk into 50 buildings, to get 40 names, talk to 30 people by telephone, to secure 20 face to face appointments, to close 5 deals. Start with 50, end with 5.
That was the Science of my new profession. The profession of selling is a unique blend of Art and Science, Science and Art. The Science is represented by numbers, activity, quantitative measures. The Art is represented by soft skills, people skills.
Barb Gregory was the facility manager for Bartell Drugs. They had 40 locations. One contractor was serving all 40. They were a good company. I had friends working there. As I listened to her, it was clear she was fairly content with whom she was using. It’s a common challenge. How does a salesperson overcome that one? Then something I had read in a Sales Book by Frank Bettger sparked an idea. “Compared to what or whom?”
“How do you know you are happy?” I asked Barb. “Pardon me?” she asserted. “How do you know you are happy? Compared to what? You have only ever had one contractor. As good as they are, one thing I do know about human nature. When we think we have it all, arrogance and complacency creep in. Wouldn’t it be nice to raise the bar a little?” It was a bold move. I had nothing to lose. I hadn’t made a sale in awhile.
“Where are you going with this?” she asked, leaning forward like the RCA Dog listening to the phonograph for the first time. “Well, I just wonder how much better your service would be from ABC Mechanical if they knew WE were in one of their stores.” Stone silence. I just smiled and sat back. I knew I had struck gold. Thanks, Frank. It was sound business logic. What could she say? I had established reasonable doubt, a rock in her shoe.
Waiting for her to finish her thought process, I finally interjected one more idea. “All I am looking for is one store,” I said with a smile curling up slowly from one side like the Mona Lisa. “Just one, the worst one. The one you have the most problems with. It will give us a chance to demonstrate our competency. How do you feel about that?”
After another long pause, she said, “Okay. Just one. Here is the manager’s name and number. The address is…” I was delighted. It had worked!
We went after that store with gusto. Our best tech solved their ‘Three compressor failures in six months problem.’ There were two problems, liquid migrating back to the crankcase and occasional Brown Outs. We installed a crankcase heater and phase protection. We eliminated the moisture in the system. We made the manager happy.
Barb said to me over lunch a month later, “Okay, I am going to give you guys another two stores. But don’t get your hopes up. I will never give you more than half the stores.” I was speechless. 20 stores! I could hardly contain my glee. Mona Lisa was gone. I am certain I looked more like Ronald McDonald at that point. “Fine,” I said with a big grin. I finished my pasta marinara with McChicken.
We talked about the Mariners.
All I could think about was the old proverb, “When the nose of the camel is in the tent, the rest of the camel isn’t far behind.”
Who else could I call?
Sales are like a four legged chair. The legs are: Trust, Relationship, Competence and Timing. If one of the legs is missing, we don’t sit too well or comfortably.
Mark Matteson
Matteson Avenue
Raising the Sales Bar in Organizations Worldwide
Email mark.enjoythejourney.matteson@gmail.com
www.mattesonavenue.com
Cell phone 206.697.0454
I had to. I was stale. I was restless. I was a C+ technician on my best day.
But I had people skills. I made friends easily. I liked people. I took the personality profile. I was made for the job. I read a lot. I was curious. I was ambitious. I have always been an entrepreneur. Now I was an Intra-prenuer.
Selling Commercial Service agreements in Seattle Washington is tough. The Pacific North-WET. Average annual rainfall, 32 inches. Average annual temperature, 55 degrees. When compressors fail, we switch to Outside Air, Economizer mode, aka, “Free cooling :-)
I was calling on people who didn’t want to see me and talk about something they didn’t care about. Out of sight, out of mind. I was selling an intangible. Getting the appointment is the toughest part of the sale. I would walk into 50 buildings, to get 40 names, talk to 30 people by telephone, to secure 20 face to face appointments, to close 5 deals. Start with 50, end with 5.
That was the Science of my new profession. The profession of selling is a unique blend of Art and Science, Science and Art. The Science is represented by numbers, activity, quantitative measures. The Art is represented by soft skills, people skills.
Barb Gregory was the facility manager for Bartell Drugs. They had 40 locations. One contractor was serving all 40. They were a good company. I had friends working there. As I listened to her, it was clear she was fairly content with whom she was using. It’s a common challenge. How does a salesperson overcome that one? Then something I had read in a Sales Book by Frank Bettger sparked an idea. “Compared to what or whom?”
“How do you know you are happy?” I asked Barb. “Pardon me?” she asserted. “How do you know you are happy? Compared to what? You have only ever had one contractor. As good as they are, one thing I do know about human nature. When we think we have it all, arrogance and complacency creep in. Wouldn’t it be nice to raise the bar a little?” It was a bold move. I had nothing to lose. I hadn’t made a sale in awhile.
“Where are you going with this?” she asked, leaning forward like the RCA Dog listening to the phonograph for the first time. “Well, I just wonder how much better your service would be from ABC Mechanical if they knew WE were in one of their stores.” Stone silence. I just smiled and sat back. I knew I had struck gold. Thanks, Frank. It was sound business logic. What could she say? I had established reasonable doubt, a rock in her shoe.
Waiting for her to finish her thought process, I finally interjected one more idea. “All I am looking for is one store,” I said with a smile curling up slowly from one side like the Mona Lisa. “Just one, the worst one. The one you have the most problems with. It will give us a chance to demonstrate our competency. How do you feel about that?”
After another long pause, she said, “Okay. Just one. Here is the manager’s name and number. The address is…” I was delighted. It had worked!
We went after that store with gusto. Our best tech solved their ‘Three compressor failures in six months problem.’ There were two problems, liquid migrating back to the crankcase and occasional Brown Outs. We installed a crankcase heater and phase protection. We eliminated the moisture in the system. We made the manager happy.
Barb said to me over lunch a month later, “Okay, I am going to give you guys another two stores. But don’t get your hopes up. I will never give you more than half the stores.” I was speechless. 20 stores! I could hardly contain my glee. Mona Lisa was gone. I am certain I looked more like Ronald McDonald at that point. “Fine,” I said with a big grin. I finished my pasta marinara with McChicken.
We talked about the Mariners.
All I could think about was the old proverb, “When the nose of the camel is in the tent, the rest of the camel isn’t far behind.”
Who else could I call?
Sales are like a four legged chair. The legs are: Trust, Relationship, Competence and Timing. If one of the legs is missing, we don’t sit too well or comfortably.
Mark Matteson
Matteson Avenue
Raising the Sales Bar in Organizations Worldwide
Email mark.enjoythejourney.matteson@gmail.com
www.mattesonavenue.com
Cell phone 206.697.0454
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)