Sales and marketing Newsletter

GREG’S RIGHT FIT NEWSLETTER #175
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Quick notes to help you get more sales and marketing done in less time. . . next week.

In this issue:

– Techniques for FIT
– Being Human
– Random Stuff

Techniques for FIT
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  • Resist the urge to avoid hearing “no” from your prospects. A good decision depends on a no answer being as valid as a yes decision. One way to innoculate your people against “no” is to have them invent ways for prospects to say no, but still give permission, like “Is this a bad time to talk?”
  • Before you hire your next super-experienced-star (SES), check for personality fit inside your team. If they come in and don’t match their output from their previous company, will you keep them because they’re such a good fit on the team they make everyone better? The person meeting that definition is a true SES.
  • Everyone is trying to get more done in less time. Smart organizations do it by training their people to take more time up front to define the outcome clearly. Sounds simple, but it’s hard to do on your own.
  • Someone chided me for using probabilities as an anxiety reducer, pointing out that when the low probability event is happening to you, it doesn’t matter what the chances of it happening were. I tried to explain we were making the same point, but reminded myself that communication is hard because, “cada cabeza es un mundo.” (I love typing that.)

Being Human – Most people are good
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“Being slightly paranoid is like being slightly pregnant – it tends to get worse.” Molly Ivins

continuum

As humans, it’s easy to jump to the wrong conclusion because our brains are hardwired to keep us safe. In my experience, it’s best to force yourself into thinking of the types of humans you meet as being on a continuum. 10% of people may be predominately bad but 10% will be predominantly good. The rest of us fall in between. We’re not perfect, but we try to do the right thing. Realize that and act accordingly.

Random Stuff

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Well, that’s easy for you to say

airplane-lav-small

I have a problem with assumed knowledge, especially when I’m excited about something. I’m convinced at some level we all share this problem and that’s probably why the saying, “cada cabeza es un mundo,” resonates with me so strongly.

I find long flights tough and the one to Paris is no different. Especially when it comes to using the facilities because I hate standing in line for the toilet. There’s so many things to consider while standing there. Things like turbulence, the passenger ahead of me being sick from the weird orzo salad we just ate, or a repeat of that time the water wouldn’t shut off.

As I navigate my way to the lavatory on my side of the plane, I notice the other side’s lav looks unoccupied. I’m next in line, so I’m not going to chance testing it, but a cute little redhead girl taking her place behind to can do it. It looks like she is thinking the same thing and surveying the cabin for a clear path. The economy cabin is filled to the brim and since we’re a few hours into the flight, it resembles a teenager’s room with people and pillows and things everywhere.

I turn to her, smile and point up at the premium economy section. In contrast to economy, it’s nearly empty and if she goes up there, the last row is open so she can get to the other side with ease. It’s a little loud in the cabin and I don’t want to raise my voice, so I use exaggerated hand motions and lip movements. “If you go up to the next section, the back row is empty and you can get to the other side and use that restroom,” I say/show.

Nothing, just a blank look. And maybe, if I’m being honest, a slight bit of what might be terror creeping into the corner of her eye.

I say it a little louder and try some new gestures, being careful not to come across as threatening. (I mean, I used to coach my daughter’s grade school basketball team, I’ve got this.) I continue, “Get up past the divider because the back row is empty so you won’t bother anyone and you can use the restroom on other side.”

Still nothing.

I take a breath and wind up for my third attempt when she says something in a teeny-tiny voice that gets drowned out by the roar of the jet engines. I lean in closer and cup my ear, “I’m sorry, can you repeat?”

“I’m French,” she says.

“No English?” I say quietly.

She shakes her head.

I smile, nod, turn around, and continue waiting.

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