It was just possible in the 1990s. Selling awnings in your bathrobe

"You are from communication, will you solve it?" His broad smile did not bode well. We are writing in the late 1990s and I had just started my career in Brabant. Switched from the awning store (in that little town under the smoke of Arnhem, remember?) to the production side of the industry. Suddenly I had 300 awning specialists to serve. 

The person who had sent the fax was one of those 300. Bob was an eccentric customer, who did everything by gut instinct and counted on the Order Entry Department to understand exactly what he meant every time. Bob spoke a jargon of his own, laced with obscene language and was therefore as well-known as he was infamous. Bob was angry, the fax revealed. 

Visit from a Mystery Shopper

The fax in question consisted mostly of an article that Bob had torn from a trade magazine, crumpled, unfolded again and then pushed through the fax. A brilliant crackle across the pages of the article was the result. The piece itself recounted the findings of a Mystery Shopper who had visited "Bob's showroom. Apparently, the Shopper had already had trouble finding the showroom, as it was not only located in the middle of a residential neighborhood in Gelderland, but also "three stories back" in a gallery apartment. The bell downstairs did not answer, but the door was open and so it happened that the Mystery Shopper rang Bob's bell on the gallery. He must have thought that the perseverer wins because, according to the article, after ten minutes, the door was finally opened. The article described Bob as "a man dressed only in a white bathrobe, wearing slippers, who gave the impression of just getting out of bed. 

Once inside, it became clear that the living room also served as a showroom, with a pair of articulated blinds adorning the wall above the sofa. The Mystery Shopper described the situation as rather unusual, to say the least. Bob first had to roll a few bottles aside and stack some boxes of pizza leftovers to make room for his customer. A cup of coffee later, the Mystery Shopper was given all kinds of information about awnings, with Bob sitting through a too-short bathrobe doing nothing to disguise his merchandise on the wall. 

The conclusion of the Mystery Shopper's report was clear: This awning store needed attention when it came to representativeness. Bob was angry about that. Written in thick marker on the last page of the fax was, "I REQUIRE YOU TO STOP ADVERTING IN THIS BACKGROUND $#@% MAGAZINE!" As I tried to suppress my laughter, I grabbed the phone to call him. 

If you are number one, you are number one!

The phone call was therapeutic for Bob. I applied everything I had learned in sales training - bending with him, bending with him, letting him blow off steam - and let him have his tirade first. At a brisk pace, Bob rambled on. Angry that such an article was being written, even though he had opened the door despite his hangover. He had even served coffee with something sweet. His robe had simply been closed. And customers shouldn't whine. "I'm sure I'm the number one customer with you! When you're number one, you're number one, Jan! So I expect Bart to immediately discontinue all advertising with that publisher and start calling me that he will never transfer another penny to that club. Yes? Yes? Yes! Right?" 

For me, it was the beginning of a series of tasty adventures with this client, who at the end of the day also turned out to be only human. With which, at least, it was never boring! And despite the somewhat inferior housing of his then showroom and his somewhat peculiar views on how to receive customers, Bob was also just a good professional. 

The names in this article - except, of course, Jan Mol's name - are fictitious.