Richard Turen
Although it happened nearly two decades ago, I still remember every moment of the best sales call of my life.
I am eager to share it with you, because I think there may be lessons to be learned in doing the unexpected to make a very lasting impression.
I first met the regal, funny, sophisticated and shockingly down-to-earth Terry Holmes when he was the manager of London's Stafford Hotel. I had flown over to inspect about 10 properties, but the Stafford was insanely popular among my fellow consortium members. I was determined to learn why.
My first meeting with Terry occurred as my wife, Angela, and I entered the American Bar just off the Stafford lobby. We had been delayed on our flight, and I needed a quick respite at 3 in the afternoon.
Terry emerged from a back office and duly welcomed us. Then, reaching into his suit pocket, he pulled out a small pair of scissors and proceeded to cut my tie in half. "It's called The American Bar," he said, "because we disdain undue formality." He later added that he didn't care for my Guy Buffet chef tie design.
The Stafford was, and continues to be, legendary. Terry has moved on as an executive with the well-regarded Red Carnation Group, where his videos have an avid following. A hotel holiday greeting or a video property tour by Terry is always memorable and a bit out of the ordinary.
I remember once entertaining the famed manager of another hotel, London's premier property, in my office.
The gentleman, this king of London hoteliers, wanted to know why it was that whenever he asked members of our consortium group what London hotel was their personal favorite, "they always seem to respond with 'the Stafford?'"
I remember my brief response: "Perhaps you should spend more time with Terry Holmes."
The greatest sales call of my life occurred several years later. I was at the end of a rather long day in the middle of a very long week where every consortium member had one or more tables set up in the grand ballroom of the Bellagio in Las Vegas. We had five days of five-minute meetings with the world's leading suppliers.
I saw Terry approaching. He was not smiling; there was no hug as he approached. He simply nodded, sat down and reached into his Bond Street satchel, extracting a large, gray scrapbook.
He slowly placed the scrapbook in front of me and carefully turned to the first page. It was a photo of a lovely little girl, an infant. He turned the pages, again and again, and I simply sat there and watched this lovely young girl grow older as new photos were revealed.
Terry did not say a word. Finally, with just about 20 seconds remaining of this "once-a-year, face-to-face, important sales call," he slowly turned to the final page of the scrapbook.
It was not a picture of the girl. It was a copy of a tuition bill for freshman year at a London university. It had the young woman's name on it.
Slowly, Terry closed the book and returned it to his satchel. He stood and addressed me:
"Richard, I know that you would not wish to see this lovely young woman deprived of a college education because her father could not adequately fill the rooms at the Stafford Hotel. I know you will do your part."
With that, he bowed and walked away.
I fully realized that I had just witnessed the most impactful, memorable sales call of my life. I think about it often, especially when a supplier is trying to make me watch a marketing video on an iPad.