Ode to the Salesperson

With all the articles that circulate about how annoying and ineffective sales people are, I thought we deserved a tribute to call our own.

Because though many of us have dealt with salespeople whose pitches are canned and whose emails are delete-able, perhaps you know a true professional.

Perhaps you’ve met a salesperson who has done their  research. One who follows up on a side-comment you made while you were leaving a meeting months ago. Who remembers not only the names of your children, but which sports or instruments they play.

Many people think anyone can do sales because it doesn’t require a degree or special training. To those folks I’d ask, how would you feel about the idea of knocking on 99 doors and hearing “no” 99 times?

Would you knock on door 100?

Good salespeople would. They take negativity and flip it into drive. They care about making their customers successful. Good salespeople may even contribute to getting their customers promoted.

Sometimes you want to quit. Really, really badly.

Because throwing in the towel would feel pretty great (even for just a few days).

Because your fate often ends up in the hands of your clients.

Because you read yet another LinkedIn post about how annoying salespeople are, written by someone who has never tried selling.

Because you trusted someone to get something done, and they didn’t.

Because negotiations didn’t go your way.

But you’ll come back. Because you’re addicted; to the chase, the stress, and yes, you’re even addicted to the waiting game. When the PO comes, you are like a toddler on a sugar high.

That’s because you know the secret: You are the master of your fate. While everybody else works a 9-5, waiting for a performance review to change the game, you take the reins of your future every single day –- and you might even do it in your bunny slippers.

You take massive risks in exchange for massive rewards. You persist in the face of the 99 “nos,” and you definitely knock on door 100.

Here’s to the sales rep out there crushing it.

The one waiting at the computer, hitting refresh.

The one on a call at 4:55 p.m. with Legal on the last day of the quarter.

The one on a plane, train, or in a car, physically exhausted and emotionally drained, after weeks away from family.

I see you, and you are not an annoying robot.

You are a boss.