Tales from Sales: Shark Week

The year 2012 is rife with apocalyptic predictions. Having another salesman trying to scoop your deals is not however the end of the world, as long as one deals with the problem up front. Handling the odd shark at a dealership can be like potty training a toddler: repetitive, trying, frustrating – and eventually someone will shit the bed.

Sharks can appear in a variety of forms. The Large-Finned N00b usually makes a lot of noise on his first day, but is actually toothless, generally succumbing to tricks and jokes within a couple of months and leaving the dealership faster than Willy Wonka’s Great Glass Elevator.

The Sharp-Toothed Smiler might appear to be your friend but is actually plotting your demise, as a crocodile lurks waiting for his prey. Most common is the Long-Tenured Hammerhead, the guy who’s been at the dealership since Henry Ford invented the assembly line and will discourage you from selling cars altogether.

A stern German named Friedrich Nietzsche once wrote about the Will to Power. Ol’ Fred must have willed some of that power to my stubborn personality because I steadfastly refused to allow any of these characters to drive me out of the industry. The Dealer Principal, a documented Good Guy, hauled me aside during my first week and told me not to let the grizzled veterans get the best of me.

“Don’t let them get in your head,” he said in a gravelly voice, marked by his two-pack a day habit. “In time, I know you’ll outsell them all.”

I was only a couple of weeks into it when a customer whom I knew outside of the car racket strolled in through the large, glass front doors that faced the busy highway. Spying him from across the showroom, I bounded past the trucks on display and greeted him warmly. He was interested in a base model Penalty Box, meaning the commission would be almost non-existent but I didn’t care. Knowing his circle of influential friends, providing him with a good buying experience would certainly result in profitable referrals.

After showing him the car, we bickered back and forth in a jovial manner about few non-meaningful terms. As I was shuffling him off to the Business Office to sign the papers, the most senior salesman appeared and inserted himself into the conversation. Clearly, he also knew this potentially lucrative customer and was trying to get in on the deal. I knew what he was up to and my blood pressure started to rise.

When the door was closed to the Business Office, I hauled the senior salesman by the lapels of his outdated, polyester shirt into the nearest room. Stop this before it starts, was my thought. Plus, what did I have to lose?

“Listen to me, you sanctimonious arse.” I said, careful to keep my voice to a reasonable level as the customer in question was only in the next room, after all. “I've neither the time nor the energy to %$&@ around with a weasel like you. Don't try to scoop my customers again.”

The old timer scuttled out of the small room, in the direction of the corner office occupied by the Dealer Principal, presumably in an effort to rat me out. He wasn’t there long. In short order, he exited the office in a bluster, lighting up a cigarette on his way out the door. The Dealer Principal acknowledged me with a broad wink from across the showroom floor.

Generally, and perhaps surprisingly to some people, these types are not the majority. Many of the folks with whom I’ve worked with are counted as very good friends. Anyone who wants to bust into this business should know the three golden rules: stick up for yourself, look after your customers, and practice a good work ethic – a consistent effort on these three truisms will bring great success.