The Product

The Product

Around the same time of my “Chairman of the Board” and “Account Executive" phases, I had another experience with the sales industry. It was around the same period, the spring of 1976, and I was still looking for work and a way to support our fledgling marriage. Again, I saw an advertisement in the Sunday paper for a firm seeking account executives to sell and distribute an exciting new product that was expected to generate a wide appeal in the regional area. This time, though, the ad actually stated that the product was not a vacuum cleaner, but a radically new product that would soon achieve widespread acceptance among homeowners nationwide; now was the time to get in on the ground floor of this exciting opportunity and ride the coming wave of sales to financial independence. So enticed, I made the call to find out the when and the where.    
 
Early the next week I found myself driving into East Hartford where the company conducted the interviews; they had secured a large ballroom in a hotel for the “product” presentation. There was no placement test this time around, but there was a large application form that needed to be filled out in detail. The ballroom had long serving tables set up in rows and folding chairs along each side. At one end of the room, a large video screen was suspended from the ceiling. It said something about the times, and about the desperation felt by so many people beyond myself, to see so large a crowd sitting down to fill out this form when they did not even know what they might be asked to sell. Close to 300 people were in the room.
 
A well dressed man in his thirties walked up to where the screen hung down and spoke to us about what was coming: first there would be time to fill out the application, then we would watch a film that would present the “product“ to us, then an actual on-site demonstration would follow. After this, we would break out into small groups for questions and informal interviews.
 
I finished filling out the form and deposited it in a box set out for that purpose. The box was on a table off to the side, around which sat a group well dressed men, including the one that had addressed the gathering earlier. When the majority had finished with the form, the lights went down and the film presentation started. There on the screen in front of us, larger than life, was Chuck Connors, the one-time basketball and baseball player turned movie actor. He gave a talk about preparing for life and meeting its challenges and obligations. He talked about quality and integrity, and went into detail about how proud he was to link his name to this exciting new product and sales opportunity. The moment was now at hand, he walked to a table where something sat concealed under a dark cloth. I think I was actually excited. His hand reached down, and with a dramatic move, unveiled the hidden prize.
 
There sat a chrome contraption shaped like some strange mutant insect with arms and appendages. It was like a power drill on steroids, but fixed in one location. At the end of these arms and appendages were various attachments that performed various functions. Drill bits, polishers, cutters, slicers, dicers, raspers, files, whirling wheels, metal utensils of all description. There were all kinds of accessories that could be sold along with the base unit, and this would add to the already substantial price of this “indispensable” tool. I was horrified. Who would buy such a thing, and why would someone buy it from a door-to-door sales representative instead of a hardware store that could handle warranty issues or other such service problems? The writing was on the wall, this tool would leave the seller to deal with angry buyers long after the money had disappeared up the line.
 
The movie ended and our attention was directed to the actual product that was now on display in the front of the room. It looked worse in person than it did in the movie. One of the presenters was now describing how the sales organizational was structured, how, if you were a top seller, you could be a distributor and make a commission on every unit sold in your area. All hustle, just like the vacuum cleaner charade I had just endured. Alas.
 
Several people quietly left the room. As the talk continued, I rose up from my seat and walked over to where the box of applications sat on the table. I shuffled through the applications until I found mine. I could feel the eyes of the room on my back. I pulled mine out, and dropped the rest back into the box. I folded up the application and put it in a pocket of my sport coat, turned and headed for the door. There was no way I was leaving all of my personal information with this cast of characters. I hit the door loudly and strode out of the room, then heard it slam behind me. I heard it open and slam several more times as I walked down the corridor. I guess others had made the same assessment concerning the "product" and what it would mean to sell such a thing. At least this time I would not buy in, I would not feel ashamed later. Yet I wondered about the others still in the room, how they felt about themselves, and where they thought this opportunity was leading them.