The Round Table
Merchant of Time
by
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In two hours, Bobby O had earned what most people work a month for. And I could do it, too. No other UPs showed, but that didn't dampen anybody's spirits. He had done what the preacher had preached and had hit the jackpot. Back slaps and high-fives were all around. Charlie emerged from the back office looking smug. “Well, girls, looks like the simple steps work. Anyone have anything to say?” Sweets jumped to his feet, “SPIF!”, and the rest of the guys took up the chant, “SPIF! SPIF! SPIF!” Charlie looked to Herbie, who nodded. Cheers went up. “What's a SPIF?” I asked. “Just watch, little grunt.” Charlie took a crisp $100 bill from his pocket and handed it to Bobby O. “Special Promotional Incentive Funds.” Niles clarified. “SPIF.” Where has this business been my whole life? “When did you think you had the sale?” Charlie asked. “And when did you know you had the sale?” We all took seats again, eager to listen. “Not to sound like a kiss-ass,” Bobby O said, “but the steps Herbie's been drilling into us really work.” Herbie smiled, and looked over at Charlie, who quietly puffed on his pipe. “The meet and greet was textbook,” Bobby O continued, “and the seating at the round table is crucial. All the steps are. It allowed me to speak to them as one, to break the pact.” He turned to look at Charlie. “That's when I felt there was a good shot. And Herbie’s right,” he added, “a nod isn't good enough. You need a verbal commitment from both of them to make it count, anything else won't do. We live in a world of yes or no.” The gang was psyched. Nobody wanted to leave. “Once the pact was broken, I talked like they were already members. This is yours. Your resort, your staff, your unit, your program.” Numbers went racing through my head, numbers that meant dollars. Charlie put his arm around Bobby O's shoulders. “So, when did you know you had a deal?” “Chaz, like you've always said, I knew I had a deal when they signed the worksheet, gave me the check, and left the property.” Charlie stood back and held his hands out toward Bobby O. “Ladies, I present to you a Timeshare Salesman.” The place erupted.
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About the Book
It wasn’t all about the money, winning was what mattered. Jake Arril found himself in a wolf den. Some would call them rounders, con men, pitch men, whatever; they all came running to the Time Share game in the late 70’s. Slick, polished hitters from the world’s of junk bond sales, Florida swamp, siding, used car, you name it, they all came running like moths to a flame. These guys could smell fast money, don’t get in their way or there would be a price to pay. Jake learned quickly money was just tickets to the show. Studying the craft of direct sales, Jake learned as much from doing it wrong as right. Right paid more! He went from student to teacher and the tickets won kept coming. As the pile grew bigger and bigger, so did the show. Money was meant to be spent, and he did. The estates called home, exotic cars, beautiful women, after awhile it was tough to come up with new ways to spend the tickets. Charter a cruise ship for a party, why not?
Woven through the Round Table Jake actually mentors the reader on the fundamentals of successful direct, one on one sales.
This is the first leg, the very beginning of a 35 year, billion dollar run. This is ground level Time Share sales. You are invited to sit in the sales pit and witness the other side of the sale. Enjoy the trip.
For more information, please visit www.howtosellmytimeshare.net
About the Author
J.C. found out very quickly the world consisted of those that eat and those that are eaten. When asked what he does for a living he is quick to say, “I’m a Time Share Salesman.” He leaves out that he was the best! Learning and honing his skills over a 35 year career that brought him around the globe, chances are he had a hand in helping build the largest timeshare companies in the world. He currently lives on a beautiful coastal island where the only bright lights are the stars in the sky.
Please visit my blog at www.howtosellmytimeshare.net/blog/