CHAPTER EIGHT
So, school came to an end. Everyone moved on to whatever life beckoned them.
My life moved on too.
I had made good money up to that point, but it was time for me to step it up a notch. I knew some guys who were making good money by stealing cars and ‘chopping’ them, selling the parts. I figured if they could do it, so could I.
Of course, I had no interest in starting up a chop-shop or even selling the stolen parts myself. I knew that the best way to keep from being caught was to always keep a low profile, but I also knew from reading true-crime books and mystery novels that it was only a matter of time before a person got caught. They said everyone made mistakes that you couldn’t prepare for every possibility.
Now, whether I believed that or not, I made it a point to research things before I took any risks, and minimize the amount of people I dealt with.
So, before I could start stealing cars, I had to learn a little something about them. I had learned how to formulate strategies from some military manuals, so I attacked this with that kind of mindset: Proper previous planning prevents poor performance, or the six P’s.
I was eighteen years old, with very little job experience, but I knew from my job selling phones that I was a natural salesman.
You know, it’s really strange about that, I never really spent much time talking to people on a personal level, but I had no problems discussing the details of a service contract, or the benefits of different phones. I would just ask the customer questions to find out what their needs were. For some, it was business and reliability, and for others, it was simply to impress their friends; shallow but still a need.
And, if I could match their needs to the right phone, nine times out of ten I would close the sale.
Well, it was now time to use these skills on myself.
The first thing I needed to do was to put my foot in the door by getting a job with a small business that dealt with cars, and the question that came to mind first was how am I going to convince the owner of a car electronics shop that I would make a great addition to his business.
I knew nothing about the business. In fact, the only connection I had to it was that this shop was the one that had installed my car’s alarm system and stereo. The owner, a guy named Tony, was a short older, Italian man. A nice enough guy, but real busy. His office was full.
Well, it really wasn’t an office, per say. It was the lobby, sales area, waiting area, etc. The phones were constantly ringing.
His secretary, a 30-35 year old attractive lady with red hair, as well as The man himself was answering them. I could hear her telling customers that their cars were ready, giving price quotes and estimates to them while writing down the information on a large pad on her desk. Tony was doing pretty much the same thing.
The service technicians were in and out, sometimes with questions for Tony, other times with questions for the customers or just delivering a set of car keys to those who were waiting.
The place was really chaotic. If this was how a successful man made a living, he could have it.
So, how was I going to talk with this guy about a job, let alone sell him on the idea that I would be a benefit, an asset, to his company?
Well, I did as I had always done when I wasn’t quite sure how to handle a situation. I watched, and I waited several times as I sat there, Tony glanced at me, and each time we made eye contact, I would offer him a friendly smile.
I made sure to never look anxious or impatient. I didn’t want to give him the impression that I was in a hurry or waiting on something.
When the craziness finally settled down, I approached him.
The first thing I let him know after introducing myself was that I’d had my car worked on there before. I then told him about my car knowledge, about the little bit I’d learned in shop class while working on my car.
I told him about my time and dedication to the martial arts and how I had worked at the dojo for years.
I finished with my two years experience of selling cell phones.
Immediately, he said he wasn’t looking for anyone to do sales, that all of his sales were handled by either him or his assistant/daughter, Judy. I glanced over at the attractive woman on the phone and she gave me brief, sympathetic smile before resuming her conversation with a caller.
As I looked back at Tony, I noticed that the office area, and both of the desks, was very messy from the day’s activities, so I know which direction I could approach him from.
I started talking to him.
I explained that I was interested in electronics, that that was what had first led me to cell phones. I wanted to be a technician, but had no experience. How when I did so well on the sales end, my boss refused to let me move to the service department.
I tried to put on a face of empathy and told Tony that I understood why my boss chose not to move me. Then I added that that was why I was quitting that job and searching for a technician job.
I then explained that I couldn’t afford an expensive technical school and that I believed that O.J.T., or on the job training, would be my best bet.
As I spoke my next words, I used my hands to direct his eyes to his work area. “If you would let me clean up around your office and the garage bays at minimum wage for a few hours a day, it would allow me to watch and learn, and if the technicians needed an extra hand with their work, I could get in there and help.
I would keep the areas clean, pick up any messes, keep all of the work areas safe from accidents.
The part about the accidents got him to thinking. I could see the wheels turning in his head, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to hire me.
You see, it just so happens that during my research, I’d found that Tony’s business was in the middle of a Workman’s Compensation lawsuit. One of the technicians had slipped on an oil spot and had injured his back.
Now, the oil spot had been created by the same technician, but nevertheless, he had been on the clock for Tony and Tony knew the state would side with the employee. He would end up having to pay for the employee’s loss of time at work and his pain and suffering.
Tony was old school. By that, I mean he came up with old world beliefs, you know what I mean. The old ways. I’m sure that he would have been just fine with taking that employee out back of the shop and putting both him and Tony out their misery. But he couldn’t. People have rights now.
Blah, blah, blah.
I’m pretty sure that’s what Tony would say, and you know, so would I.
So, Tony warmed up to me. I could tell we were connecting, but I also noticed from my earlier observations that Tony was the type of guy that liked to be the boss. He liked to hear himself talk. He liked to hear himself give directions. So, I shifted gears.
In the two-plus years I spent selling phones, I had learned two important things: That there was a time to speak, and there was a time to listen; a time to inform, educate, and sell; and a time to learn your customer, to understand their needs; to sometimes let them talk just to hear themselves.
So, I let Tony talk while I played the role of an interested and curious listener. Every now and then, I would ask him a question, carefully probing him for information, showing him that I was really hearing what he was saying.
By the time we were done, you’d have thought a father had just gotten through speaking to his son about the meaning of life. A connection, a bond, was made. Tony liked me. He gave me the job on the spot. I started the next day.