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Sales Talk
by Dan Keeble

Salesmen are seen as wide boys. Over-the-top, over-confident, and back-slapping. They rarely are. But Frank Walsh was. A Sales Director alongside Bernie Drain, M.D. of the company I worked for as a buyer.

Bernie was diametrically opposite to Frank. He was awkwardly shy and dreaded welcoming clients to the factory. After managing a few words, he was eager to hand them over to Frank for a factory tour.

On the few occasions Bernie accompanied Frank on visits to customers’ premises, he let Frank do all the talking. However, one thing he did note, Frank would throw in the odd swear word, which appeared to break the ice and build rapport with a client. Being socially inept, Bernie hadn’t grasped that streetwise Frank could judge whether a client would appreciate his banter. What registered with Bernie was that a bit of swearing seemed to go a long way.

Having seen it work, Bernie was eager to add it to his limited conversational attempts.

His big moment arrived. A team visited the factory from a major military equipment giant, accompanied by two representatives from the M.O.D. These were booted and suited. Two even sported bow ties. I sat with colleagues from production, quality control, and finance. Frank sat at one end of the conference table, with Bernie at the head.

The meeting was going well, discussing contract opportunities well in excess of anything we had hoped for. Of course, Frank did much of the talking, using diplomatic skills to engender confidence in our capabilities. After an hour had passed and the business side of the meeting eased off. Coffee and biscuits moved the conversation onto a more social level.

One of the M.O.D. chaps perceived Bernie was not relaxed in conversation, and tried sympathetically to draw him out. “How do you relax Bernie, when you are not fighting the challenges of running this business?’ he asked.

Bernie shifted in his seat. ‘I like to play golf when I can,’ he said.

The guy encouraged him a little more to open up. ‘And how’s the game going for you?’

Bernie realised the importance of this meeting for the business and understood that he would have to step up and make the effort. He took a breath and began.

‘Well, I was out at the weekend. Weather wasn’t f___ great. From the first hole, I knew it wasn’t my f___ day. I put my first f___ ball on a tee, and with one giant sweep of my driver, I hit the f___ thing as far along that f___ fairway as I could. I heard a crack and looked down. The f___ ceramic insert had come out of my iron, and the f___ ball went straight into the f___ rough, right among the f___ trees.’

Silence….almost forever.

Ten gaped mouths hung wide, anticipating dental treatment, except that pain would have been preferable.

I think Frank stepped in to salvage something from the meeting. I’ve no idea what happened to the contract.