***
We paid for our bill and discussed what to do next. The night was still young – the sun was about to set and the skies were clear.
“Let’s go down to the beach and watch the sunset,” she suggested.
We walked slowly west down Davie Street, holding hands and taking in the warm summer air.
“Hey!” a recognizable voice shouted out from across the street. I turned around and sure enough, it was Darrell. He was with his good-for-nothing sister, Carla, and they were eager to approach us. “Where’s my money?”
“What are you talking about?” I said. We were now standing face to face. I let go of Ashley’s hand in case Darrell tried to fight me. He was a bit of a loose cannon – a dimwitted thug with a quick temper – always a dangerous combination.
“What do you mean ‘what am I talking about?’” he responded, showing no attempt to conceal his ignorance.
“Look, Darrell, I don’t owe you any money, okay.”
“No, you ‘look’. The way I see it…” he paused, as he took a moment to look around trying to act like some Mafia Don. The whole spectacle would be somewhat amusing if it wasn’t for the fact that he looked like he was about to punch my lights out. I was not afraid of him, but I definitely wanted to avoid a conflict, especially tonight.
“I had to pay my dad four grand and now you owe me half of that.”
“First of all, I don’t owe you or your dad a thing. If anything, you guys owe me. I invested over three thousand dollars of my own money into the business and then earned another couple thousand dollars, and I didn’t see a dime in return. Not to mention all the time and energy I spent as well. Plus you still have the truck and all the equipment. So if you think I owe you anything, take it out of that and we’ll call it even.”
I grabbed Ashley’s hand again and we walked across the street. I said what I needed to say and I was not really interested in hearing whatever he had to say.
“Get ‘im, Darrell,” Carla chimed in for the first time, demonstrating she could be just as ignorant as her brother. “He’s basically telling you to go to hell. You just gonna let him do that to you, Darrell?” she said, fueling her brother. He eventually took the bait. I turned around and saw Darrell and Carla slog across the street like the trolls they were. He didn’t look like he wanted to chat anymore.
Darrell positioned himself in front of us to cut us off. Ashley and I stopped in our tracks. I let go of her hand once again and expected the worst. The night was officially ruined. He turned his hat backwards and looked up and down the street to make sure there were not any witnesses for what he was about to do. I read his body language clearly.
“I don’t want to fight you, Darrell,” I said passively.
Darrell did not say a thing. He was done using words. His Neanderthal instincts took over and he decided to make his move. Without provocation, he suddenly lunged forward with a powerful right fist. I telegraphed the punch before he even decided to throw it and easily ducked under it. I took a step back and Darrell charged toward me with another attack. I tried to duck again, but the second punch grazed my back. I sprang up and delivered a devastating blow of my own. My fist landed squarely on his nose, breaking it instantly. My adrenaline was now pumping at full throttle.
Darrell had a slight size advantage over me, but I was much faster. He threw another sluggish punch with bad intentions. In one fluid motion, I crouched down to avoid his punch, swiveled my torso, and launched a swift, but fierce, body blow underneath his right rib cage with enough force to deflate his lungs. I immediately followed it up with a crushing punch that landed flushly on his chin with the intent to knock him out. The combo staggered him a bit, just enough for him to reevaluate the situation.
I heard the faint yapping of his sister in the background, but I couldn’t really make out what she was saying. In that moment, nothing else existed except me and Darrell. This was our moment, a chance to settle our differences and frustrations with each other – a final showdown.
He was getting the worst of the exchange so far, but he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. With his face bloodied and bruised, he continued to pursue me, this time with more caution. I didn’t have a mark on me, so my confidence was at an all-time high. My hands were up to protect my face, fists clenched.
Darrell was breathing heavily as he staggered toward me. I blasted him with a straight right jab to the face. His head snapped back. I faked the same punch again and his hands instinctively went up to protect his face. I quickly rotated my hips and whipped my leg against the side of his knee. He hobbled in pain a bit, but did his best not to show it.
In a moment of desperation, Darrell lurched forward and grabbed a hold of me. He pushed me backwards, forcing me up against a cement retaining wall. I pushed back, but I was outmuscled. He held onto my shirt and distributed a few dirty punches to my midsection. I raised my elbow up in the air and came down in a twelve to six motion, connecting directly on his collarbone. He winced in pain, probably a good indication his collarbone was now fractured. This allowed me to break free from his clench.
One of his hands was still fastened securely around a fistful of my shirt. As I spun around to get loose, he tore a large hole across the back of my shirt. I looked down to remind myself which shirt I was wearing. Much to my dismay, it was one of my favourites. This further enraged me. I started to swing wildly on him to defend my beloved shirt’s honour. I connected with a few of them, but then I backed away. We both took a small breather to regain our composures.
I gave him a slight head fake and he put his hands in front of his face to block. I slammed my leg against his left knee for the second time. He had no answer for the barrage of devastating leg kicks I was bestowing upon him. I looked down and swiveled my hips again. This time it was a fake. With my eyes securely locked onto his left knee, I delivered a crushing head kick that nobody saw coming. My shin caught him cleanly on the temple, bringing an end to the lethargic mass of human waste. He collapsed instantly onto the pavement.
“You had enough, Darrell?” I yelled at him. “Come on, get up!”
“Screw off, Trevor!” Carla demanded, as she shoved me away from her brother. I thought about just walking away, but somehow that wouldn’t be satisfying enough. I wanted to add a little insult to injury. I had just given Darrell a beating of a lifetime and it felt really good.
“It’s over, man,” he said mercifully with one hand in the air, the other holding his bloody nose.
“I don’t owe you or your dad a thing, you understand me? If you ever come near me again, I swear I will kill you. You can curse me out, hate my guts, blame me, and fight me, but it won’t solve your problems. You’re a mess, bro. You need help. You’re a terrible friend and a terrible person. I hope you know that. I’m so glad you’re out of my life. You will never amount to anything if you continue to treat people the way you do. I hope for your sake that one day you will get your act together. Until then, leave me alone.”
After my victory speech I grabbed Ashley’s hand, crossed the street again, and proceeded down toward the beach. Hopefully, we could salvage what was left of the night.
C H A P T E R
T W E N T Y - O N E
At 7:00 a.m., my alarm rang. I got up and made myself some breakfast – raspberry jam on white toast with a glass of orange juice. After I ate, I had a quick shower, put on my work uniform, threw on a hoody, and jogged to work.
When I arrived, all the lights were off except for the lights in the back office. I banged on the cage door a few times until Marc emerged from the back with his usual grande Starbucks coffee.
“Good morning.”
“Hey, Marc, how’s it going?”
“I’m alive, so I can’t complain.”
“Good to hear.”
Marc unlocked the gate and let me in. “So today is the big day, are you ready to host your first sales seminar?” he asked, as we walked into the back room.
“You bet,” I replied
.
“So how are you adjusting to the new role so far?”
I didn’t really have an answer for him. It had only been a few weeks since my promotion and so far I was doing what I had always done. Each day I went into work and sold shoes and clothing. There was no adjustment. “Uh, well, you know, so far so good,” I said tentatively.
“So what aspects of this new role do you find most challenging?”
“To be honest with you, Marc, I don’t really feel like I have fully embraced the new role yet. I guess the hardest part for me is to make that transition from being just a regular sales associate to a manager.”
“Do you know why I promoted you?”
“I’m guessing it had something to do with my performance.”
“Yes, in some respects that’s true, but a lot of guys on our team have good performance. I promoted you because you’re not just a regular sales associate.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a natural born leader. You just have to know and own the fact this is what you were born to do. You just have to own it, you know?”
I nodded in agreement, but I had no idea what ‘owning it’ entailed.
“So if you see someone not doing what they’re supposed to be doing, get on them, say ‘hey, go fix your section’, or ‘go talk to those people’. You’re in charge and you have to let them know that. This is very important. If an employee doesn’t believe you should be in the position you’re in, then they will lose respect for you and it will become incredibly difficult to manage them.”
“Okay, so what you’re saying is that if I don’t act managerial, then the employees won’t take me seriously as a manager, and then they will not work hard for me?”
“Exactly. But you also don’t want to be a jerk about it because then nobody will want to work for you either. There’s a fine balance, like everything in life.”
I sat there a moment and pondered this wisdom.
“So I recommend you take charge and be a little more assertive, but take baby steps, you don’t want to come in here one day and whip everyone into shape.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get there.”
Throughout the day I was getting into the routine of ‘owning it’. I told the cashiers if they needed anything, to come get me first. I also observed the staff when they dealt with clients and gave them a few pointers or words of encouragement. Other than that, it was a pretty slow day, so I instructed everyone to restock shelves and tidy the store.
After closing, we all stayed behind for our team meeting. Marc went over a few administrative details and Jamie, the assistant manager, talked about some of the new products that were coming out. When it was my turn, I stood up and faced my audience.
“Hello everyone,” I said trying to conceal my nervousness. “I was asked to give you guys a few examples of some effective selling techniques in hopes they will improve our store’s sales. Over the next few minutes, I will go over some of the techniques I have found to be successful for me.
“Okay, so as you probably already know, there are no magic words that will get people to spend money. But, there are certainly techniques that can turn a ‘no’ into a ‘yes’. The most important thing when you’re selling is your frame of mind. For example, I never make a judgment about how much money a customer may have. I have had some average looking clients spend a lot of money. So, treat everyone with the same level of respect. Your frame of mind should always be positive. Try not to act desperate or get angry if your customer doesn’t buy anything today because maybe they will come back and buy something tomorrow or the next day. But if you’re rude to them, they will definitely not be buying from you and may not even come back to this store.”
I paused for a brief moment and looked around to see if everyone was still with me.
“Okay, the next thing you can do is always look busy,” I continued. “This is really important. Customers are attracted to hustle. So when they walk in and see you working hard, they will be inclined to think you will work hard for them as well. This may even happen on a subconscious level, but as the saying goes, ‘when it rains, it pours’! I can’t tell you guys how many times I’ve been juggling three or four customers at once and another customer will come up to me and ask for a size or something. In those cases, I usually just pass it off to one of you guys. But when I’m super busy, it’s not a coincidence customers are attracted toward me. There’s a pattern here and you guys can use it to your advantage. So, if a customer walks in and asks you for a size in the back, run to the back to get it for them. This pushes positive psychological buttons in their brain that makes them feel important. Happy customers spend money. If we don’t have the right size for them, bring out a couple of other options of things that are in their size, or call another store and have the item they want shipped here. You worked hard for that sale, there’s no sense in letting someone at another location reap the benefits of your hard work, right?
“While I’m on the subject, try to discourage putting things on hold for customers. I know our store policy is three days, but this is no good. I give people one hour,” I paused for effect and let it really sink in.
“Research shows ninety percent of all ‘holds’ never return, so why put our inventory in a space where we can’t sell it? Regardless of what they want to put on hold, tell them it’s a really hot item and is a very popular size, and it will be gone by the end of the day. I tell people that we don’t hold things, but that I can hide it somewhere for an hour. This does two things: first, it further solidifies the bond I have with my client, as I’m doing them a favour, and secondly, it creates a sense of urgency. If they really want it, this element of time will force the decision while their buying mood is still hot. If too much time has passed, they will have completely cooled off, reevaluate their purchase decision, and will not likely come back.”
I took a deep breath and gathered my next thoughts.
“I also want to stress the importance of knowing your product knowledge. When I first started here, I would come in a few hours before my shift and just read about all the products, where they come from, how they are made, what materials are used, and when the new products are coming out. The majority of your customers will never ask about this stuff, but it’s still important you know it. Knowing it will allow you to speak with much more confidence. When you speak with confidence, you establish trust. Once you’ve established trust, then your words become that of an expert, and the customer will believe almost anything you tell them. So if they are trying on a hundred dollar shoe, tell them all about the two hundred dollar shoe and all the wonders it will do for them. Chances are they will buy the two hundred dollar shoe instead because you’ve praised it so highly. Once they are on board with the two hundred dollar shoe, show them some outfits that go with it, and so on. You can build big sales by knowing your product.
“Finally, I want you all to start thinking outside of the box. There are many unconventional things you can do to get more sales. For example, I went to the Business Depot downstairs by the food court and had some business cards made up with my name and our store’s phone number on it,” I took one out of my pocket and showed it to them. “I hand out hundreds of these things each week and if the customers come back, they will come back to me. This is just one example of something you guys can do, and it is such an inexpensive way to boost your sales.
“So that’s all I wanted to share with you guys, thanks so much for listening. Are there any questions?”
Before I knew it, my speech was over. It wasn’t so bad, after a while I found my rhythm. I considered my speech a success, but I still wanted to prove to the senior managers they didn’t make a wrong choice in promoting me. It was time for me to step up my hustle to the next level.
C H A P T E R
T W E N T Y - T W O
Throughout the next couple of weeks, I took notes of some of the problems I saw around the store. I typed all the notes I
had taken along with a proposed solution for each.
I arrived at work at the next morning at 8:00 a.m. Marc was there early so he opened the door for me.
“So how’s it going?” he asked.
“It’s going pretty good I suppose, how are you?”
“I’m alive, so I can’t complain,” he said again, as if he was being witty.
“Good to hear,” I said, almost as automatic as his response.
“Listen, Marc, I made a few observations about how the store operates and I think there are some things we can change, which will increase business.”
“Great, I would love to hear them, what do you have in mind?”
“Actually, I wanted to wait for the other managers to arrive and discuss it as a team.”
“Okay, good. I’ll let the others know, and we can find a time at some point during the day to discuss your ideas.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Marc.”
The Art of the Hustle Page 25