Many years ago while at my girlfriend’s company holiday party, I listened in disbelief as one of her colleagues blathered on about how much money he made in his sales job. Growing up, my parents impressed upon me that sharing your salary was something you just don’t do. I never questioned this piece of family wisdom, which likely fueled my distaste for most of this blowhard’s babble. But, the money he claimed to make got my undivided attention. I wondered if this guy, who couldn’t stop talking about himself, could make half the money he claimed to make. If he could, well, then I wanted some of that, too.
A few days later, I told my girlfriend that I’d decided to pursue a sales job like her windbag colleague from the party. It’s always nice to know how people feel about you. That was exactly what my girlfriend was about to lay on me.
“You can’t do it, David,” she said with a stark, emotionless expression. Even her voice sounded like a disappointed frown, yet the discomfort wafting through the room didn’t seem to bother her at all.
She described these salespeople at her company with the kind of reverence reserved for great people like George Washinton or Albert Einstein. Clearly, she didn’t believe that her bubba boyfriend from Fort Worth, Texas, was capable of such selling genius. I will always owe my pretentious former girlfriend a huge debt for inspiring me to drop her like a stinky diaper and start my enterprise software sales journey.
You Can’t Do It
Being told I can’t do something seems to be an important theme in my life. My freshman year in college, I took an elective geology course where the professor made what seemed like an impossibly boring subject to most people come alive to me. Halfway through the course, and sure that I was destined to be a rock-head for the remainder of my life, I met with the professor and told him I was switching majors to geology.
This professor was a phenomenal instructor and an equally phenomenal jackass. He glared over his thick, black-rimmed reading glasses as if I were a peasant who’d stumbled into the King’s court. Then, using his fake snooty English accent he’d picked up while studying at Oxford, he delivered a blow to my fragile ego. “That’s a mistake, Mr. Bliss. You won’t make it.” I was infuriated, but I exited without a word and changed majors anyway. I can’t recall if I changed majors to spite that old fart, but it ended up being the best decision I made at college.
Upgrading My Sales Job
I began my search for an upgraded sales job in the tech industry. Some quick research on sales compensation for these positions shocked and inspired me. The figures looked too good to be true — they were four times what I was earning! This kind of money only existed in my dreams. My ignorance at the time had me believing that these were figures reserved for doctors, lawyers and executives. Part of me still thought the jobs were some kind of scam. It was clear I didn’t meet the qualifications for these new opportunities, but that didn’t stop me from applying. Obviously, I was suited for sales because the volume of rejections from my job search and interviews was staggering and yet I kept signing up for more rejection.
The First Big Interview
Finally, I got my first face-to-face interview with a company that was high-flying at the time, called Sun Microsystems (you may have heard of them). I couldn’t believe my luck. The compensation offered for this position seemed unattainable.
I studied the company, their products, and the most boring financial reports ever in preparation for my interview. Sun sent an airline ticket to travel to Austin, Texas, even though it was only a three-hour drive from my home. On the plane ride to Austin, I was more nervous than a cat in a trashcan full of firecrackers. My anxiety got even worse when my flight got diverted to Houston due to the thick fog in Austin that day. I couldn’t stop sweating even though it was January.
I finally arrived in Austin, four hours late to my interview. The sales manager waiting for me was gracious enough to accept my flight challenges and still meet with me. An hour later, the interview ended and I was certain I had the job. There was some awkwardness at the very end of the interview, but I didn’t give it much thought.
A few days later, the same sales manager sent me an email to schedule a follow-up call. I was absolutely giddy in anticipation of the conversation. The call started as I expected but suddenly careened into a ditch.
He told me the preparation I put into the interview was evident. He valued my honesty about my prior work experience and my enthusiasm. Instead of announcing I had the job, he said, “David, you failed my most important interview question.”
My brain instantly went into hyperdrive, trying to decipher what I botched during the interview.
“David, you didn’t ask for the job,” he explained.
Now I understood the awkward end to the interview. It was the question I failed to ask that killed this job opportunity. I was caught so off guard by his comment, I didn’t know what to say except to thank him for considering me for the position.
Take Action, and a Couple of Thoughts
There are life-changing job opportunities everywhere in the United States, especially in the world of sales. If you want something different, something more meaningful or something with more career upside, get started with your job search now. If you have a critical out-of-town meeting like an interview or something pivotal at your job, always arrive the night before to avoid the risk of travel gremlins derailing your success.
Using my best West Texas drawl, let me say, “good things ain’t gonna land at your doorstep.” The experience and knowledge I absorbed during the numerous interviews and rejections turned out to be invaluable. The message about myself and how I could help prospective employers flowed like silky sweet honey, but it took dozens of failures to get there.
Anything good worth having takes a lot of work. There is no better investment than the one you make in yourself.
