A STORY OF SUCCESS

A few years ago when I was out of work I went for a job interview. It was one of those prestigious land-office businesses and I was quite eager to be hired as a salesperson there. Since I was only twenty at the time what I knew about job interviews and the whole process of trying to get a job was mostly what I had picked up in the popular glamour-type magazines which devote space each month to a cute article on business.

My resume was not all that impressive. There were far too many gaps between a series of odd jobs and I had little sales experience to boast about. Therefore, I decided to put my efforts into a fabulous cover letter in which I offered promises of increased sales and profits for the company. When I actually received a call from a secretary in the personnel department, I was both surprised and frightened. Nonetheless, I started preparing a soft-sell package which I would use during my interview.

In retrospect, I suppose I was rather nervy and full of anxious optimism. Although I hardly had a red cent to my name I went out and bought a good navy suit which set my bank account back several months.

As if this foolish running into debt were not enough, the morning of the interview I took the subway and got off one station before the company. From the subway station I hailed a taxi cab. Somehow, I thought that if I arrived by taxi rather than on foot it would leave a more favorable impression. It never occurred to me that the personnel department had better things to do than to wait for me to arrive. Yet, in my innocence, I honestly believed arriving by taxi made a difference.

From the moment I stepped out of the cab, gave my lunch and dinner money to the driver, and walked into the lobby, everything went wrong. It annoyed me tremendously that the receptionist did not recognize my name when I gave it to her. I watched her scramble through a pile of tattered sheets and when she finally did find my name, she looked up at me and said, "Didn't anyone reach you?" She did not wait for an answer, which I found rather rude. "Your interview with Mr. Curtis has been put off until next week. He's tied up in a meeting all day today," she said. I swallowed hard. No, I certainly had not been advised of this schedule change and felt it was a raw deal to suffer for a sloppy secretarial mistake. I thought of the money I had spent on my navy suit, of the four dollars I had blown away on taxi fare. Naturally, I said none of this. Instead, trying to look as businesslike as I could, I produced a briefcase which I had borrowed from my father for the occasion. There was not much inside it except a package of breath mints, an address book, and an old outdated agenda. I had no idea what I was going to do once I had the briefcase opened but somehow it seemed to reassure me, calm me, and bought me time. The last thing which I wanted to do was to walk out of the company empty handed. I turned my back to the receptionist as if to give the impression that I had a mint of money stashed secretly away  in the lining of the briefcase; I picked up my agenda and flipped through the pages and finally stopped at one, glanced at it, and then, slamming it shut, said, "According to my agenda the interview with Mr. Curtis is today and since no one bothered to let me know about the change of plans I want you to pull Mr. Curtis out off his meeting for a moment. I want to discuss this matter with him personally." ''I'm afraid," the receptionist informed me, "that I can’t possibly do such a thing. Mr. Curtis would be furious with me and would never put up with being disturbed during his meeting." My mind raced as I thought up an alternative plan. "Surely, you'll be bringing in coffee to the meeting," I said.

The receptionist assured me that someone would. "But that won't be for at least another hour and I don’t quite see what you're getting at".
''I'll wait." I told her and then proceeded to sell her the idea of letting me into the office to bring in the coffee.

My arguments and persistence won out and as she handed me the tray of coffee, sugar, milk, and cups and led me down the hallway, I felt that I had won the battle. 

But I hadn't. When I reached the office and was told to come in I was confronted with more than I had bargained for.
Mr. Curtis was a man in his fifties and, as he sat behind his huge desk, he immediately smiled at me, called me by my first name, and said, "I've been expecting you." 

There wasn't a soul in the office with him.

My mouth gaped open. Perhaps the stunned look on my face gave me away for he did not give me the chance to utter a word. 

"Talking to the right person is the key to the success of a good salesperson. That, as well as not taking “no” for an answer. Have a seat. I think you and I are ready to do business".