Mega-Selling. Andrew Haynes

I had explained to Hans, I was already looking at the insurance business as a possible career move, so the timing of Huss’s phone call couldn’t have been better. I was impressed with his demeanor over the phone, he was very proper and courteous – not at all the stereotypical salesman. Plus, he explained that my income in the insurance business would be unlimited, and that put me over the edge. He wanted to meet me for lunch the next week, and I asked him if we could make it tomorrow – I didn’t want to wait another day to get started on my new life. Huss agreed, and we met for lunch at a restaurant downtown.

      When I walked in I saw a trim, dapper fellow seated by himself. I walked over to make sure it was Huss, and introduced myself.

      “Cowper,” he said, sounding out my name, “that would make you Scottish?”

      “And Breithaupt,” I replied, “now that’s German.”

      “No, it’s Austrian,” he replied uppishly.

      Back then, the Second World War was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and I replied, “Oh, yes, that’s right, in 1945 they all became Austrians.”

      Huss laughed and the ice was broken. We continued to discuss what a career in the insurance business might be like for me. Huss painted a rather pleasant picture of me working for myself, setting my own hours, seeing clients of my choosing. At one point Huss said, “My top salesman at the moment only works two days a week and takes two months off in the summer… I can only imagine how much he’d make if he worked full time.”

      “I’ll show you. Someday I’ll be your number-one salesman and I plan on working a full week.”

      Huss smiled, “I look forward to it, David.”

      Huss escorted me back to his office across the street, asked me to write an aptitude test and to call him the following evening for the results.

      I called the next night, discovered I had passed and was invited back for another interview. Up till now things had been easy, but a serious snag lay waiting for me in the interview.

The Plan Begins to Pay-off – Long-term Gain

      “David,” Huss said, “I need you to write down a list of 100 people.”

      “People?” I asked confused. “Just a list of people? Anybody?”

      “Well, people you know – personally, of course. You know, a list of people you could easily approach to sell insurance to.”

      I must have gulped visibly.

      “You can do that, David,” Huss said, “can’t you?”

      “Sure, absolutely, of course. Who couldn’t?”

      “Well, you’d be surprised, some people don’t get out much, David. I’ve had some recruits who couldn’t give me more than a dozen names.”

      “I promise you a hundred names, Huss.”

      “Great, David, bring them in tomorrow and we’ll get started.”

      “Huss, what’s the arrangement? As far as base salary goes?” I asked.

      “Well, technically, there is no base, David.”

      “I see,” I said, wincing.

      “You do get a hundred dollar draw against future earnings, though, and a hundred dollar training allowance every month.”

      “Thanks,” I said, relieved. “And that starts… when?”

      “As soon as you bring those hundred names, David.”

      “Right.”

      I left his office and went home, meditating on my little problem. One hundred names. I hadn’t been in the country long, and knew few people in Toronto on a personal basis. I grabbed a pencil and pad of paper and started with the few people I knew from my paint selling days, then I began listing all the names of everyone I knew who had emigrated to Canada from my hometown Edinburgh. After a half hour or so of scouring my memory I came up with one hundred names – that was the easy part. Yes, I could, in theory ask them to buy insurance, if I knew where I could find them; but thankfully Huss hadn’t asked if I knew where they were.

      I returned the next day with my list, received my hundred dollar draw and hundred dollar training allowance, then was driven through an intensive six-day training course, and set loose to approach the hundred names on my list.

      I remember running into Ivan, one of the six other recruits, in the parking lot shortly after our training. He was a short, round man from Poland who played the concertina. I thought that, as a fellow immigrant, he might share my dilemma.

      “Ivan,” I asked, “do you really have a hundred people you can ask to buy insurance?”

      “Sure, David,” he replied, “don’t you?”

      “Well,” I said haltingly, “I’m about to find out, I guess, but surely you don’t really know a hundred people in Toronto. Aren’t all your friends back home.”