Team Alpha 375

"I'll have a slice of pizza and all your linen business, please."

Yesterday I stopped at NY-style pizza parlor here in Charlotte. Now, before you go thinking that I don't know pizza or that NY pizza is only good in NY, just know that I've been a connoisseur for nearly thirty years. This particular restaurant is owned and operated by two displaced New Yorkers. Yes, I know the water in Charlotte is not the same as New York, but the pizza itself here is good. Really good. I could pretty much live on it three meals a day, if my wife would let me.

This particular day I ordered a slice at the counter and then moved over to the register to pay, only to find a customer bent over the counter pointing to a catalog and a business card and totally blocking me from getting to the register. I waited for half a minute or so and then I began to listen to what he was saying... as I grew frustrated with his apparent disregard for anyone and everyone in the line behind him.

"Who owns this place?" he said.

The guy behind the counter says, "I do."

"Great, and who handles your linen service here?" the sales guy says.

"I do," replies the owner.

"Oh, great. I wanted to stop by and tell you a little about my company, drop off a catalog, and find out if you need any help with your current linen program."

First, I'm aggravated with the guy for blocking me from paying for my pizza (which I'm now eating at the counter), and now I'm boiling from the inside out listening to this guy's pathetic pitch. I can't hold myself back, so I say, "Hey, buddy, you've got no shot at this point. Go back to the end of the line and try again."

Maybe I was a little harsh, but I knew there was zero probability of this poor attempt turning out well for the guy. I could see I really bruised his ego, so I continued, "Look, you're going about this all wrong. You're holding up a line of customers just to tell the owner all about yourself. You think he cares about you? I mean, you think he's listening? Or do you think he wants you to hurry up so he can collect money from all these folks behind me?"

The sales guy became apologetic and suddenly aware he picked a bad spot to make his pitch.

"Don't worry," I said. "It's not over yet. Tell you what... how about I buy you a slice and I'll give you a few ideas on how you can approach and engage your prospects going forward."

Then I looked at the owner and asked, "Would you be willing to sit down with my friend here after we're done eating a couple of slices of the best pizza in Charlotte?"

"Sure! But you have to try the Grandma slice. It's the best." he said.

Since I was halfway through the slice I started in line, I ordered two Grandmas and went to sit down with the linen salesman.

We talked about his business, how long he's been at this, his product line, his success rate, who his perfect customer is, and much more.

He had all the right ingredients for sales success: passion, belief in his product, belief in his company, zero fear of rejection, willing to work his tail off. He was just missing one thing - the sauce. The secret sauce. The sauce that adds all the zest and flavor. The differentiating factor in both great pizza and great salespeople.

I gave him a few ideas to try in the future, but I really wanted to help him here - today. Every salesperson wants to make the sale today, so I knew if I were truly going to make an impact, I had to do it now.

"Would you mind if I went through the line and made the pitch myself? I'll help you make the sale and you don't have to give me your commission. Sound fair?" I asked.

Hesitantly, my new linen buddy, replied, "I guess so. I'll stand where I can hear you. Good luck."

So I get to the counter and the owner is no longer there. I don't even bother asking where he is at this point, I simply order from the guy by the ovens by saying, "I heard you have the best pizza in town. I'd like a pie to go for my kids, and I'll have a slice for here - but I'd like to eat the slice with the owner of this place while I'm waiting for you to make the pie. Tell him I have an idea for him that will make his restaurant even better."

"Let me see if I can find him," the counter guy said as he went running off to the office.

A moment later, the counter guy came back and said "He wants to know who it is."

"Tell him I'm a linen guy who knows pizza as well as I know linen. Lived in New York a few years back, and this place makes me miss it."

Within thirty seconds, the owner comes out, sees it's me, and smiles. The three of us sit down - me, the owner, and the real linen guy - and talk pizza, New York, family, Charlotte, the pizza business, the restaurant business... basically, everything BUT linens. Within five minutes, we became great friends. Turns out we had a lot in common. When the right moment came to discuss what the linen guy had to offer, I set the stage and left. The linen guy got up to thank me and joked, "I'm going to get fat if I use this approach everywhere I go."

"So might your wallet," I quipped back.

I know you're probably dying to know if we made the sale. The truth is, I don't know. That decision was entirely up to the owner, and to the merits of the program the linen guy had to offer. My work was done and my kids' pizza was ready. I had succeeded in creating an environment in which the linen guy actually had a shot. More business is lost as a result of a poor approach than anything else.

In fact, the success of any salesperson is directly tied to his/her ability to capture the attention of the prospect. There's no reason to begin your pitch until you know the other guy is listening with interest. Most salespeople are under the false impression that they need to spend all of their time preparing the features and benefits portion of their presentation. I can just imagine the thought process: "Well, if I can just master this PowerPoint deck, I'm sure people will buy from me." Those salespeople could not be more wrong.

Here's my sales presentation success formula:

1. Spend your time preparing your approach, and your prospects will spend their time with you. Prepare in terms of your prospect - make it personal to them.

2. The best way to make it person is to know something about them first. Try LinkedIn, Google, your local newspaper, a mutual connection...whatever. Just don't walk in cold.

3. Start friendly. Engage your prospect with a smile and an emotional question. In this case, you might try, "What do you miss most about New York?" or, "What's the single best piece of pizza you've ever had in your life?"

4. Get your prospect away from his business if at all possible. Here, I succeeded in pulling the owner out from his office, from behind the counter, to a table - with food on it. I made him comfortable and removed distractions from the equation.

5. Ask a few questions about your prospect's business to get an understanding of what he values most in a vendor before you begin to talk about yourself.

6. Get the prospect to view you as a person of value, as a resource, as a friend, as anything other than salesperson.

7. Now, start the linen discussion.