Description
I thought I’d hit the jackpot: a well-paid backpacker job in Auckland with no experience required. But behind the promises of travel and independence, I dove headfirst into a brutal and cynical sales system.
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
I thought I had hit the jackpot, a well-paid backpacker job in Auckland with no experience required. But behind the promises of travel and independence, I dove headfirst into a brutal and cynical sales system.
Chapter 3.
Smoke and mirrors in Auckland. It sounded too good to be true. Good English skills, $20 an hour with performance bonuses. travel opportunities, no experience required, a team environment and a way to be independent, that's a lot for a simple backpacker job. Yet, like any other sucker, I dove my head first when I saw the ad. I poured everything I had into writing the most compelling cover letter to grab their attention. Dear madam, sir, are you looking for a motivated and gentle individual that could help you reach your goal? Let me introduce myself. I'm a 30-year-old male from Belgium always looking for new challenges. I would be keen to join your team. As you may have seen from my resume, I have worked in many different fields. All those experiences made me who I am today, a highly motivated storyteller with enough confidence to face new challenges. I'm also a fast learner and I love teamwork. Those two aspects interest me the most in your job description. I am currently employed but would be ready to start SAP if given the opportunity. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Kind regards. Their response was instantaneous. Within minutes, I had an invitation for an interview a few days later. This good news whetted my appetite, and I started rehearsing a speech to win them over, imagining them eating out of the palm of my hand. My confidence was overflowing, maybe too much, but I figure in this kind of job, more is better than less, right? The first meeting was formal. About 10 of us sat around the conference table. They briefly explained our mission. We were going to sell energy contracts, gas and electricity, by going door to door in the neighborhood around Auckland. The task seemed complicated and I started to have some doubts, but my self-assurance helped me stand out against the 18-year-old kids who had just landed on their working holiday and were struggling to understand the New Zealand accent. I saw the eyes of Rebecca, one of the managers, light up during my pitch. With her plump lips and silicone breasts, she seemed visibly moved. I had clearly struck a chord. Her partner Bertrand was the kind of guy who threw out,
Sweet as, cool bruh, get it boy.
Every two fucking seconds, a perfect illustration of his intellectual depth. The training continued with the fine print. To get a guaranteed salary, we had to hit a weekly sales minimum. The more you sell, the more you earn, obviously. If you're a good salesman, you become a team leader. If your team does well, you become a neighborhood manager. This year, Archie sounded familiar. It was clearly a pyramid scheme. I was losing my enthusiasm, but I tried to stay realistic. I needed a job, and I needed money. Buying the van had left a massive hole in my budget and I had to fill it somehow. Once the meeting ended, I walked back to my van and received a text. I was on the team. The first ship was tomorrow at 9am. I had to scramble to find a place to sleep nearby and most importantly, a place to shower. Because unlike farm work, this job required you to look sharp and clean. I couldn't show up looking like a total mess. I needed a shirt and jeans. Every morning I would wake up walk to the library with my backpack, sneak into the restroom and lock the door to do my grooming. It was tedious, stressful and sometimes humiliating but I had to get used to it. The job itself was really not my cup of tea. Every morning started with training on how to sell the products, explaining their strengths and weaknesses and learning the app on the ipads they gave us. It was a complex system that forced me to carry notes in my pocket so I wouldn't forget how it work Then we would roleplay different scenario, what to do, when a customer is busy, when they don't want to answer or when they say they aren't interested. This exercise was supposed to build our confidence and boost us for the day. Then we would head to the supermarket for lunch with Carl, our team leader. Never in my life, and I mean never, have I seen someone as sped up as him. He was clearly coked, out of his mind and he had an incessant flow of speech. A sharp and jerky driving style and a hair-trigger temper. His emotions were binary, basically. either an explosion of joy or a fit of rage. With his slick back hair and gold chain, Carr was an Australian who had come over to conquer the New Zealand market for the energy company I was working for. He was constantly on his phone, even while driving. The man was a public menace. Some of my co-workers adored him, even idolized him. Others hated him as much as I did. Once drop-off in our sector, we had a specific route to follow with strict orders to knock on every single door. We had a chart. True track rejection, callback, for example, my husband gets home at 5pm, come back then, and successful contracts. A few experiences really stay with me, especially my first training day with Carl. He despised people who didn't speak perfect English, and would scream at them as he walked away.
Fine, who will leave you, you assholes? Yeah, yeah, have a good day, fucking idiot.
The guy was a total scum, using intimidation to get what he wanted. Sales technique? No. Like I said, it was just a fucking piece of trash.
You don't want to spend the little bit of pension you have left on overpriced electricity, do you? This way, when your grandkids come over, they can plug in their phones, console without ruining you. They might actually think it's cool to start a ramp-a-run for once.
I was horrified watching the defeated look on the old man's face, who clearly didn't know how to get rid of him. My first three days were a fiasco. Zero sales, I couldn't convince anyone, I have way too much empathy. I understand that people don't want to be bothered or tricked into a situation they don't understand. But my pitch was actually pretty good though. Hello, how are you doing today? Enjoying the sunshine? Haha, don't worry, I won't take much of your time. I'm not here to ask any money. Horse laugh. My name is Sebastian and I'm with... I've been sent to your neighborhood because of the reckless hike in electricity prices. You've probably noticed it on your recent build, haven't you? Yeah, I'm here today to make sure that you and your neighbors are paying the right price and getting the discount you deserve. who are you with currently? Do you get your bills by email or mail? Fantastic Go grab the bill so I can take a look. At this point, I will turn my back, just like I was told, to trigger a reaction and force the customer to get their bill. Whoa This is really expensive I will say this without even looking at the total. I can't beat this price with our 15% discount. Just bring me your driver's license. Again, I will turn my back to force the future client to comply. Then came the hardest part, filling out the long online form with the client's data and calling the head office to validate the agreement. It was a long process that often failed due to technical glitches or the client realizing that they were getting into and backing out. The pressure was constant. Every time someone made a sale, Carl would blast a message to the team.
Boom A lot of one Tiffany just made her second sale of the day. Nice work, girl Who's next? If someone makes a sale in the next 15 minutes, I'm buying them a shot The goal today is 15, don't forget.
These messages were meant to boost morale, but they only spike my anxiety and shatter my confidence. At the end of the day, a car would pick us up and drive us back to the Auckland office. The next day was the same routine, except now there was a whiteboard showing everyone's sales. We would go over the pitches again, adding even more predatory line.
If a woman answers the door and she looks disheveled, with kids running around, she's struggling. Tell her that with the money she saved, she can buy an extra Christmas present for her kids. If it's your woman who's all dressed up, she's trying to feel strong and independent, tell her that her husband will be so proud of her when he sees she took an initiative to save the family money.
How could these people look at themselves in the fucking mirror? Of course, the neighborhood they took us to were mostly working class areas, far from the luxury estates, who were selling dreams and snake oil to the hundred privilege, offering a contract that might have a good rate for a year, before skyrocketing to become more expensive than all the competitors. I lasted as long as I could. I managed to close two sales and even won a team challenge one day. But nothing was rewarding enough to keep me in such a toxic environment. I quit after only nine days. In the end, I didn't earn a cent and I actually lost money. I decided to fall back on farm work. They were looking for people for the kiwifruit industry. I had hoped to avoid it, but yeah, not this time.
Description
I thought I’d hit the jackpot: a well-paid backpacker job in Auckland with no experience required. But behind the promises of travel and independence, I dove headfirst into a brutal and cynical sales system.
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
I thought I had hit the jackpot, a well-paid backpacker job in Auckland with no experience required. But behind the promises of travel and independence, I dove headfirst into a brutal and cynical sales system.
Chapter 3.
Smoke and mirrors in Auckland. It sounded too good to be true. Good English skills, $20 an hour with performance bonuses. travel opportunities, no experience required, a team environment and a way to be independent, that's a lot for a simple backpacker job. Yet, like any other sucker, I dove my head first when I saw the ad. I poured everything I had into writing the most compelling cover letter to grab their attention. Dear madam, sir, are you looking for a motivated and gentle individual that could help you reach your goal? Let me introduce myself. I'm a 30-year-old male from Belgium always looking for new challenges. I would be keen to join your team. As you may have seen from my resume, I have worked in many different fields. All those experiences made me who I am today, a highly motivated storyteller with enough confidence to face new challenges. I'm also a fast learner and I love teamwork. Those two aspects interest me the most in your job description. I am currently employed but would be ready to start SAP if given the opportunity. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Kind regards. Their response was instantaneous. Within minutes, I had an invitation for an interview a few days later. This good news whetted my appetite, and I started rehearsing a speech to win them over, imagining them eating out of the palm of my hand. My confidence was overflowing, maybe too much, but I figure in this kind of job, more is better than less, right? The first meeting was formal. About 10 of us sat around the conference table. They briefly explained our mission. We were going to sell energy contracts, gas and electricity, by going door to door in the neighborhood around Auckland. The task seemed complicated and I started to have some doubts, but my self-assurance helped me stand out against the 18-year-old kids who had just landed on their working holiday and were struggling to understand the New Zealand accent. I saw the eyes of Rebecca, one of the managers, light up during my pitch. With her plump lips and silicone breasts, she seemed visibly moved. I had clearly struck a chord. Her partner Bertrand was the kind of guy who threw out,
Sweet as, cool bruh, get it boy.
Every two fucking seconds, a perfect illustration of his intellectual depth. The training continued with the fine print. To get a guaranteed salary, we had to hit a weekly sales minimum. The more you sell, the more you earn, obviously. If you're a good salesman, you become a team leader. If your team does well, you become a neighborhood manager. This year, Archie sounded familiar. It was clearly a pyramid scheme. I was losing my enthusiasm, but I tried to stay realistic. I needed a job, and I needed money. Buying the van had left a massive hole in my budget and I had to fill it somehow. Once the meeting ended, I walked back to my van and received a text. I was on the team. The first ship was tomorrow at 9am. I had to scramble to find a place to sleep nearby and most importantly, a place to shower. Because unlike farm work, this job required you to look sharp and clean. I couldn't show up looking like a total mess. I needed a shirt and jeans. Every morning I would wake up walk to the library with my backpack, sneak into the restroom and lock the door to do my grooming. It was tedious, stressful and sometimes humiliating but I had to get used to it. The job itself was really not my cup of tea. Every morning started with training on how to sell the products, explaining their strengths and weaknesses and learning the app on the ipads they gave us. It was a complex system that forced me to carry notes in my pocket so I wouldn't forget how it work Then we would roleplay different scenario, what to do, when a customer is busy, when they don't want to answer or when they say they aren't interested. This exercise was supposed to build our confidence and boost us for the day. Then we would head to the supermarket for lunch with Carl, our team leader. Never in my life, and I mean never, have I seen someone as sped up as him. He was clearly coked, out of his mind and he had an incessant flow of speech. A sharp and jerky driving style and a hair-trigger temper. His emotions were binary, basically. either an explosion of joy or a fit of rage. With his slick back hair and gold chain, Carr was an Australian who had come over to conquer the New Zealand market for the energy company I was working for. He was constantly on his phone, even while driving. The man was a public menace. Some of my co-workers adored him, even idolized him. Others hated him as much as I did. Once drop-off in our sector, we had a specific route to follow with strict orders to knock on every single door. We had a chart. True track rejection, callback, for example, my husband gets home at 5pm, come back then, and successful contracts. A few experiences really stay with me, especially my first training day with Carl. He despised people who didn't speak perfect English, and would scream at them as he walked away.
Fine, who will leave you, you assholes? Yeah, yeah, have a good day, fucking idiot.
The guy was a total scum, using intimidation to get what he wanted. Sales technique? No. Like I said, it was just a fucking piece of trash.
You don't want to spend the little bit of pension you have left on overpriced electricity, do you? This way, when your grandkids come over, they can plug in their phones, console without ruining you. They might actually think it's cool to start a ramp-a-run for once.
I was horrified watching the defeated look on the old man's face, who clearly didn't know how to get rid of him. My first three days were a fiasco. Zero sales, I couldn't convince anyone, I have way too much empathy. I understand that people don't want to be bothered or tricked into a situation they don't understand. But my pitch was actually pretty good though. Hello, how are you doing today? Enjoying the sunshine? Haha, don't worry, I won't take much of your time. I'm not here to ask any money. Horse laugh. My name is Sebastian and I'm with... I've been sent to your neighborhood because of the reckless hike in electricity prices. You've probably noticed it on your recent build, haven't you? Yeah, I'm here today to make sure that you and your neighbors are paying the right price and getting the discount you deserve. who are you with currently? Do you get your bills by email or mail? Fantastic Go grab the bill so I can take a look. At this point, I will turn my back, just like I was told, to trigger a reaction and force the customer to get their bill. Whoa This is really expensive I will say this without even looking at the total. I can't beat this price with our 15% discount. Just bring me your driver's license. Again, I will turn my back to force the future client to comply. Then came the hardest part, filling out the long online form with the client's data and calling the head office to validate the agreement. It was a long process that often failed due to technical glitches or the client realizing that they were getting into and backing out. The pressure was constant. Every time someone made a sale, Carl would blast a message to the team.
Boom A lot of one Tiffany just made her second sale of the day. Nice work, girl Who's next? If someone makes a sale in the next 15 minutes, I'm buying them a shot The goal today is 15, don't forget.
These messages were meant to boost morale, but they only spike my anxiety and shatter my confidence. At the end of the day, a car would pick us up and drive us back to the Auckland office. The next day was the same routine, except now there was a whiteboard showing everyone's sales. We would go over the pitches again, adding even more predatory line.
If a woman answers the door and she looks disheveled, with kids running around, she's struggling. Tell her that with the money she saved, she can buy an extra Christmas present for her kids. If it's your woman who's all dressed up, she's trying to feel strong and independent, tell her that her husband will be so proud of her when he sees she took an initiative to save the family money.
How could these people look at themselves in the fucking mirror? Of course, the neighborhood they took us to were mostly working class areas, far from the luxury estates, who were selling dreams and snake oil to the hundred privilege, offering a contract that might have a good rate for a year, before skyrocketing to become more expensive than all the competitors. I lasted as long as I could. I managed to close two sales and even won a team challenge one day. But nothing was rewarding enough to keep me in such a toxic environment. I quit after only nine days. In the end, I didn't earn a cent and I actually lost money. I decided to fall back on farm work. They were looking for people for the kiwifruit industry. I had hoped to avoid it, but yeah, not this time.
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Description
I thought I’d hit the jackpot: a well-paid backpacker job in Auckland with no experience required. But behind the promises of travel and independence, I dove headfirst into a brutal and cynical sales system.
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
I thought I had hit the jackpot, a well-paid backpacker job in Auckland with no experience required. But behind the promises of travel and independence, I dove headfirst into a brutal and cynical sales system.
Chapter 3.
Smoke and mirrors in Auckland. It sounded too good to be true. Good English skills, $20 an hour with performance bonuses. travel opportunities, no experience required, a team environment and a way to be independent, that's a lot for a simple backpacker job. Yet, like any other sucker, I dove my head first when I saw the ad. I poured everything I had into writing the most compelling cover letter to grab their attention. Dear madam, sir, are you looking for a motivated and gentle individual that could help you reach your goal? Let me introduce myself. I'm a 30-year-old male from Belgium always looking for new challenges. I would be keen to join your team. As you may have seen from my resume, I have worked in many different fields. All those experiences made me who I am today, a highly motivated storyteller with enough confidence to face new challenges. I'm also a fast learner and I love teamwork. Those two aspects interest me the most in your job description. I am currently employed but would be ready to start SAP if given the opportunity. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Kind regards. Their response was instantaneous. Within minutes, I had an invitation for an interview a few days later. This good news whetted my appetite, and I started rehearsing a speech to win them over, imagining them eating out of the palm of my hand. My confidence was overflowing, maybe too much, but I figure in this kind of job, more is better than less, right? The first meeting was formal. About 10 of us sat around the conference table. They briefly explained our mission. We were going to sell energy contracts, gas and electricity, by going door to door in the neighborhood around Auckland. The task seemed complicated and I started to have some doubts, but my self-assurance helped me stand out against the 18-year-old kids who had just landed on their working holiday and were struggling to understand the New Zealand accent. I saw the eyes of Rebecca, one of the managers, light up during my pitch. With her plump lips and silicone breasts, she seemed visibly moved. I had clearly struck a chord. Her partner Bertrand was the kind of guy who threw out,
Sweet as, cool bruh, get it boy.
Every two fucking seconds, a perfect illustration of his intellectual depth. The training continued with the fine print. To get a guaranteed salary, we had to hit a weekly sales minimum. The more you sell, the more you earn, obviously. If you're a good salesman, you become a team leader. If your team does well, you become a neighborhood manager. This year, Archie sounded familiar. It was clearly a pyramid scheme. I was losing my enthusiasm, but I tried to stay realistic. I needed a job, and I needed money. Buying the van had left a massive hole in my budget and I had to fill it somehow. Once the meeting ended, I walked back to my van and received a text. I was on the team. The first ship was tomorrow at 9am. I had to scramble to find a place to sleep nearby and most importantly, a place to shower. Because unlike farm work, this job required you to look sharp and clean. I couldn't show up looking like a total mess. I needed a shirt and jeans. Every morning I would wake up walk to the library with my backpack, sneak into the restroom and lock the door to do my grooming. It was tedious, stressful and sometimes humiliating but I had to get used to it. The job itself was really not my cup of tea. Every morning started with training on how to sell the products, explaining their strengths and weaknesses and learning the app on the ipads they gave us. It was a complex system that forced me to carry notes in my pocket so I wouldn't forget how it work Then we would roleplay different scenario, what to do, when a customer is busy, when they don't want to answer or when they say they aren't interested. This exercise was supposed to build our confidence and boost us for the day. Then we would head to the supermarket for lunch with Carl, our team leader. Never in my life, and I mean never, have I seen someone as sped up as him. He was clearly coked, out of his mind and he had an incessant flow of speech. A sharp and jerky driving style and a hair-trigger temper. His emotions were binary, basically. either an explosion of joy or a fit of rage. With his slick back hair and gold chain, Carr was an Australian who had come over to conquer the New Zealand market for the energy company I was working for. He was constantly on his phone, even while driving. The man was a public menace. Some of my co-workers adored him, even idolized him. Others hated him as much as I did. Once drop-off in our sector, we had a specific route to follow with strict orders to knock on every single door. We had a chart. True track rejection, callback, for example, my husband gets home at 5pm, come back then, and successful contracts. A few experiences really stay with me, especially my first training day with Carl. He despised people who didn't speak perfect English, and would scream at them as he walked away.
Fine, who will leave you, you assholes? Yeah, yeah, have a good day, fucking idiot.
The guy was a total scum, using intimidation to get what he wanted. Sales technique? No. Like I said, it was just a fucking piece of trash.
You don't want to spend the little bit of pension you have left on overpriced electricity, do you? This way, when your grandkids come over, they can plug in their phones, console without ruining you. They might actually think it's cool to start a ramp-a-run for once.
I was horrified watching the defeated look on the old man's face, who clearly didn't know how to get rid of him. My first three days were a fiasco. Zero sales, I couldn't convince anyone, I have way too much empathy. I understand that people don't want to be bothered or tricked into a situation they don't understand. But my pitch was actually pretty good though. Hello, how are you doing today? Enjoying the sunshine? Haha, don't worry, I won't take much of your time. I'm not here to ask any money. Horse laugh. My name is Sebastian and I'm with... I've been sent to your neighborhood because of the reckless hike in electricity prices. You've probably noticed it on your recent build, haven't you? Yeah, I'm here today to make sure that you and your neighbors are paying the right price and getting the discount you deserve. who are you with currently? Do you get your bills by email or mail? Fantastic Go grab the bill so I can take a look. At this point, I will turn my back, just like I was told, to trigger a reaction and force the customer to get their bill. Whoa This is really expensive I will say this without even looking at the total. I can't beat this price with our 15% discount. Just bring me your driver's license. Again, I will turn my back to force the future client to comply. Then came the hardest part, filling out the long online form with the client's data and calling the head office to validate the agreement. It was a long process that often failed due to technical glitches or the client realizing that they were getting into and backing out. The pressure was constant. Every time someone made a sale, Carl would blast a message to the team.
Boom A lot of one Tiffany just made her second sale of the day. Nice work, girl Who's next? If someone makes a sale in the next 15 minutes, I'm buying them a shot The goal today is 15, don't forget.
These messages were meant to boost morale, but they only spike my anxiety and shatter my confidence. At the end of the day, a car would pick us up and drive us back to the Auckland office. The next day was the same routine, except now there was a whiteboard showing everyone's sales. We would go over the pitches again, adding even more predatory line.
If a woman answers the door and she looks disheveled, with kids running around, she's struggling. Tell her that with the money she saved, she can buy an extra Christmas present for her kids. If it's your woman who's all dressed up, she's trying to feel strong and independent, tell her that her husband will be so proud of her when he sees she took an initiative to save the family money.
How could these people look at themselves in the fucking mirror? Of course, the neighborhood they took us to were mostly working class areas, far from the luxury estates, who were selling dreams and snake oil to the hundred privilege, offering a contract that might have a good rate for a year, before skyrocketing to become more expensive than all the competitors. I lasted as long as I could. I managed to close two sales and even won a team challenge one day. But nothing was rewarding enough to keep me in such a toxic environment. I quit after only nine days. In the end, I didn't earn a cent and I actually lost money. I decided to fall back on farm work. They were looking for people for the kiwifruit industry. I had hoped to avoid it, but yeah, not this time.
Description
I thought I’d hit the jackpot: a well-paid backpacker job in Auckland with no experience required. But behind the promises of travel and independence, I dove headfirst into a brutal and cynical sales system.
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
I thought I had hit the jackpot, a well-paid backpacker job in Auckland with no experience required. But behind the promises of travel and independence, I dove headfirst into a brutal and cynical sales system.
Chapter 3.
Smoke and mirrors in Auckland. It sounded too good to be true. Good English skills, $20 an hour with performance bonuses. travel opportunities, no experience required, a team environment and a way to be independent, that's a lot for a simple backpacker job. Yet, like any other sucker, I dove my head first when I saw the ad. I poured everything I had into writing the most compelling cover letter to grab their attention. Dear madam, sir, are you looking for a motivated and gentle individual that could help you reach your goal? Let me introduce myself. I'm a 30-year-old male from Belgium always looking for new challenges. I would be keen to join your team. As you may have seen from my resume, I have worked in many different fields. All those experiences made me who I am today, a highly motivated storyteller with enough confidence to face new challenges. I'm also a fast learner and I love teamwork. Those two aspects interest me the most in your job description. I am currently employed but would be ready to start SAP if given the opportunity. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Kind regards. Their response was instantaneous. Within minutes, I had an invitation for an interview a few days later. This good news whetted my appetite, and I started rehearsing a speech to win them over, imagining them eating out of the palm of my hand. My confidence was overflowing, maybe too much, but I figure in this kind of job, more is better than less, right? The first meeting was formal. About 10 of us sat around the conference table. They briefly explained our mission. We were going to sell energy contracts, gas and electricity, by going door to door in the neighborhood around Auckland. The task seemed complicated and I started to have some doubts, but my self-assurance helped me stand out against the 18-year-old kids who had just landed on their working holiday and were struggling to understand the New Zealand accent. I saw the eyes of Rebecca, one of the managers, light up during my pitch. With her plump lips and silicone breasts, she seemed visibly moved. I had clearly struck a chord. Her partner Bertrand was the kind of guy who threw out,
Sweet as, cool bruh, get it boy.
Every two fucking seconds, a perfect illustration of his intellectual depth. The training continued with the fine print. To get a guaranteed salary, we had to hit a weekly sales minimum. The more you sell, the more you earn, obviously. If you're a good salesman, you become a team leader. If your team does well, you become a neighborhood manager. This year, Archie sounded familiar. It was clearly a pyramid scheme. I was losing my enthusiasm, but I tried to stay realistic. I needed a job, and I needed money. Buying the van had left a massive hole in my budget and I had to fill it somehow. Once the meeting ended, I walked back to my van and received a text. I was on the team. The first ship was tomorrow at 9am. I had to scramble to find a place to sleep nearby and most importantly, a place to shower. Because unlike farm work, this job required you to look sharp and clean. I couldn't show up looking like a total mess. I needed a shirt and jeans. Every morning I would wake up walk to the library with my backpack, sneak into the restroom and lock the door to do my grooming. It was tedious, stressful and sometimes humiliating but I had to get used to it. The job itself was really not my cup of tea. Every morning started with training on how to sell the products, explaining their strengths and weaknesses and learning the app on the ipads they gave us. It was a complex system that forced me to carry notes in my pocket so I wouldn't forget how it work Then we would roleplay different scenario, what to do, when a customer is busy, when they don't want to answer or when they say they aren't interested. This exercise was supposed to build our confidence and boost us for the day. Then we would head to the supermarket for lunch with Carl, our team leader. Never in my life, and I mean never, have I seen someone as sped up as him. He was clearly coked, out of his mind and he had an incessant flow of speech. A sharp and jerky driving style and a hair-trigger temper. His emotions were binary, basically. either an explosion of joy or a fit of rage. With his slick back hair and gold chain, Carr was an Australian who had come over to conquer the New Zealand market for the energy company I was working for. He was constantly on his phone, even while driving. The man was a public menace. Some of my co-workers adored him, even idolized him. Others hated him as much as I did. Once drop-off in our sector, we had a specific route to follow with strict orders to knock on every single door. We had a chart. True track rejection, callback, for example, my husband gets home at 5pm, come back then, and successful contracts. A few experiences really stay with me, especially my first training day with Carl. He despised people who didn't speak perfect English, and would scream at them as he walked away.
Fine, who will leave you, you assholes? Yeah, yeah, have a good day, fucking idiot.
The guy was a total scum, using intimidation to get what he wanted. Sales technique? No. Like I said, it was just a fucking piece of trash.
You don't want to spend the little bit of pension you have left on overpriced electricity, do you? This way, when your grandkids come over, they can plug in their phones, console without ruining you. They might actually think it's cool to start a ramp-a-run for once.
I was horrified watching the defeated look on the old man's face, who clearly didn't know how to get rid of him. My first three days were a fiasco. Zero sales, I couldn't convince anyone, I have way too much empathy. I understand that people don't want to be bothered or tricked into a situation they don't understand. But my pitch was actually pretty good though. Hello, how are you doing today? Enjoying the sunshine? Haha, don't worry, I won't take much of your time. I'm not here to ask any money. Horse laugh. My name is Sebastian and I'm with... I've been sent to your neighborhood because of the reckless hike in electricity prices. You've probably noticed it on your recent build, haven't you? Yeah, I'm here today to make sure that you and your neighbors are paying the right price and getting the discount you deserve. who are you with currently? Do you get your bills by email or mail? Fantastic Go grab the bill so I can take a look. At this point, I will turn my back, just like I was told, to trigger a reaction and force the customer to get their bill. Whoa This is really expensive I will say this without even looking at the total. I can't beat this price with our 15% discount. Just bring me your driver's license. Again, I will turn my back to force the future client to comply. Then came the hardest part, filling out the long online form with the client's data and calling the head office to validate the agreement. It was a long process that often failed due to technical glitches or the client realizing that they were getting into and backing out. The pressure was constant. Every time someone made a sale, Carl would blast a message to the team.
Boom A lot of one Tiffany just made her second sale of the day. Nice work, girl Who's next? If someone makes a sale in the next 15 minutes, I'm buying them a shot The goal today is 15, don't forget.
These messages were meant to boost morale, but they only spike my anxiety and shatter my confidence. At the end of the day, a car would pick us up and drive us back to the Auckland office. The next day was the same routine, except now there was a whiteboard showing everyone's sales. We would go over the pitches again, adding even more predatory line.
If a woman answers the door and she looks disheveled, with kids running around, she's struggling. Tell her that with the money she saved, she can buy an extra Christmas present for her kids. If it's your woman who's all dressed up, she's trying to feel strong and independent, tell her that her husband will be so proud of her when he sees she took an initiative to save the family money.
How could these people look at themselves in the fucking mirror? Of course, the neighborhood they took us to were mostly working class areas, far from the luxury estates, who were selling dreams and snake oil to the hundred privilege, offering a contract that might have a good rate for a year, before skyrocketing to become more expensive than all the competitors. I lasted as long as I could. I managed to close two sales and even won a team challenge one day. But nothing was rewarding enough to keep me in such a toxic environment. I quit after only nine days. In the end, I didn't earn a cent and I actually lost money. I decided to fall back on farm work. They were looking for people for the kiwifruit industry. I had hoped to avoid it, but yeah, not this time.
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