What does it really take to sell to Steve Jobs? What do you need in your kit? Are you fit enough, mentally and physically, to sell to Steve, or anyone for that matter?
Are you flame worthy? What would you have done, slapped down by Steve Jobs? Could you have survived the adversity?
Maybe. Maybe not. I’m going to tell you what I learned selling to Steve Jobs.
Everything I learned about selling I learned in Canada selling back bacon, pork sausage, and chicken door-to-door.
Cut loose in various and rotating neighborhoods of Winnipeg, Manitoba, teams of Saint John’s Cathedral Boys’ School boys ran amok selling meat, raising money for our proto-Canadian boarding school located twenty miles north outside of Selkirk.
It was there I learned how to negotiate complex intellectual property licensing deals – multi-year, multi-million dollar, high impact software deals – both inbound and outbound smuggling Big Macs back into the dorm. You learn a lot about yourself and your product when you are dumped out of a van onto a corner with a basket of frozen meat.
Selling meat in the dead of winter, even if it is delicious linked pork sausage suitable for consumption by your gentile friends, is much harder than selling to Steve Jobs. For starters, getting flamed means never having to worry about hypothermia.
FTC summarizes a philosophy which emanates from three things. Like little Kevin Bacons of the managerial apocalypse, these three items encapsulate a philosophy which should not only allow you stay true to yourself, but almost as importantly, to your client.
Luckily, I didn’t have to sell to Steve by cold calling him on his porch – but what I learned from selling meat and selling Steve, is FTC.
I hope to keep things in this book cliché simple.
Like an effective and affordable vintners’ blend, sales is always cliché-driven. I will get these out of the way up front so you can focus your judgment and attention in the front so we can party in the back.
There’s a bunch of meat on those three bones – fear, type, and copy.
There’s a rule of threes. Three items. Three imperatives – FTC.
Right place, right time.
Location. Location. Location.
Always better to be lucky than good.
All clichés. All retread. All true.
Being good, being the absolute best, the smartest in the room without luck is like being #1 on the upgrade list as your airliner’s nose wheel lifts from the runway on your way to Mumbai, you are in 37E without a paddle, with no recourse.
When I see a bus on the road, I get out of the way. The bus always wins.
My point is this – take heed as you read what I’m about to tell you. It is all meaningless without luck.
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