I hate cold calling. Nothing worse. I’d rather shoot myself in the eye, eat poop, or torch myself with gasoline. But more importantly I hate people who love cold calling.
I remember my first cold call sales job at 18 years of age. They described it as fun marketing. I lasted one week. Getting on the phone and saying, “Hi this is Rich calling from MCI, the Nation’s Long Distance Phone Service” got me sick. I would pray that no one answered; or an answering machine picked up. Yes, answering machines – the ones that had to wind and rewind before you got to leave a message. Remember those? And when someone did pick up………….
Okay hate is the wrong word. I don’t really hate those people. I’m jealous. Envious. Fascinated. Anyone who can get on the phone and try to sell something to someone they do not know, someone who they have no relationship with – and enjoy it – is a godlike person in my book.
I like those warm calls. Or the hot leads. But cold calls………..Can you see me running past you now?
The Score film So this guy Ulysses keeps calling me and leaving messages that he wants to talk with me about working together. That’s all he says and leaves a return phone number. No last name. No company name. Just Ulysses. He called Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of last week as well as yesterday. He called about the same time and left the same cryptic message. UNKNOWN came up on my caller ID. I don’t answer those calls.
So today the phone rang about the same time. I decided to pick up the phone. I am certain it was Ulysses. It said unknown. I said hello. The person hung up.
And then I started thinking about people who make cold calls. I really do believe the ones who do it as a job and not as a livelihood are secretly glad we’re not available. I know I was.