wally

My Mom hung a sign next to my bed as a kid. It had a picture of someone dancing in the rain. It read…

“It’s all a matter of attitude”.

A positive attitude was one of my superpowers. I wasn’t the best student or athlete, but teachers wanted me in their classroom, and coaches put me on their teams because of it. Throughout my career, I was hired and promoted for being positive.

Somewhere along the way, I lost it. It happened when I started keeping score.

The more I earned, the more I believed I deserved. The better I did, the more often I looked at how someone else did.

It took me some time to figure it out; in fact, some days, I am still learning that expectations and comparisons are the twin thieves that rob you of happiness.

When I met an Uber driver named Wally at 5 a.m. this morning, I was reminded of how important a great attitude and a positive perspective are.

Here’s what happened.

“Chris?”

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Let’s go get it, Chris! You know what they say about the early bird, Chris.”

Wally had something to say about everything from Christmas's beauty to the Philadelphia Eagles' potential.

About five minutes into our ride, I asked Wally, how is it that you’re so upbeat at 5 AM?

I Learned why.

Wally came to the US from Liberia, Africa, with no money and his younger brother to live with a family friend.

He immediately found a job at a Family Dollar store. But it wasn’t long before they were asked to leave because his brother ran up a huge phone bill from calling home frequently.

At work the next day, Wally told his manager, Greg, they’d been evicted. Apparently, Wally was a standout at Family Dollar. Greg called his wife to ask if they could put Wally and his brother up until they got back on their feet.

And Greg’s wife agreed.

Wally happened to be the second oldest of six boys. Growing up, he took care of everything and everyone. Wally’s family jokingly nicknamed him Sarah because he did the traditionally female jobs around the home.

Wally didn’t just take up space at Greg’s house. Instead, he took care of it - doing dishes, cleaning floors, making the beds-and looking after Greg’s two boys.

After six months, Wally saved enough money to get his and his brother a place. Greg’s family was sad to see them go.

Wally never stopped working hard. And he always looked after others with a positive outlook.

Over the years, Wally brought his parents and four other siblings to America. Today, they’re all citizens with families of their own. Wally and his wife are raising four children in Philly.

As we arrived at the airport, I asked Wally his secret to having such an incredibly positive attitude.

Wally responded…

“Expect less and give more.”

How Simple.

2023 has been a great year of lessons. I’m grateful to finish the last working day with this one.

Thanks, Wally, Peace.

And Go Birds!

kara

For the past year, I have been traveling to Nashville. My wife’s company HQ is there.

The amount of development in Nashville is unlike anything that I’ve ever seen. The skyline is full of cranes, and construction is everywhere.

Each trip, there’s another huge building that wasn’t there before.

This week, something small and shiny caught my eye. A refurbished Gulf Stream with a neon sign that read “coffee time” was parked at the end of our block.

The name on the side was even cooler than the camper's “Dose Dealer”. I was sold before I tasted the coffee.

Inside, it was outfitted like an Italian Cafe. It was immaculate, and there was a beautiful red, high-end espresso machine on the counter.

It wasn’t exactly what I expected.

A young woman slid the glass door to the side and perched herself in the opening. Her huge smile warmed up the cold morning.

“Good morning. Ready for your first cup?” She asked.

I ordered an Americano.

“Is this yours?”

“Yes, We just opened in October.”

“What inspired you?” I asked

“Coffee, of course.”

The young woman’s name was Kara. She recently gave birth to her first child. It made her inspect her life, as having children tends to do.

Kara was living in Atlanta, working as a real estate agent. Real estate was “just a job” as she described it. It wasn’t her passion. So, she started to dream. Then, connect some dots. She had this old Gulf Stream in the backyard, a love of coffee and the willpower to be her own boss.

Dose Dealer was hatched.

Kara went on to describe the challenges of starting her business, including the thousands of dollars of capital it would take to make this venture work.

But she kept going.

“Once I had a plan, it was about solving one problem at a time.”

Knowing how many people have similar aspirations to start a business but fail to follow through, I asked…

“So, what’s the secret? How did you push through?”

Kara thought about it for a few minutes. Then a few more. She didn’t have a clever response or a formula to share. She just smiled and politely said, “I really don’t know.”

Bummer.

Feeling as if I pried too much, and on account that there was a woman waiting in line behind me, I thanked Kara for sharing her story and headed back to my apartment.

As I started to walk away, Kara perked up.

“Wait….I know…”

“I just wouldn’t let go of my dream. No matter how hard it got. That’s how I did it.”

And there it was.

Anyone running a business knows how difficult it is. And whether or not Dose Dealer makes it or not (which I sure hope it does), Kara is a success.

Thanks for the lesson, Kara.

Hold on tight to that dream, and keep making that amazing coffee.
hashtag#momentsthatmatter

george and dante

Ten minutes and two young men reminded me that remembering “who” can pull you through those difficult moments in sales and life. It only takes one person, believer, and buyer to make a difference.

Here’s what happened.

Turning the corner, I saw two young men standing in front of the hardware store on 20th and Spruce. Next to them was a folding table with a pile of backpacks on it and a draping sign reading “ChildHelp.org”.

It was a busy time of day, but no one paid them much attention. One by one, people either walked by or crossed the street to avoid them.

It’s hard to blame someone for not stopping. Everywhere you go in the city, someone is looking for money. From Greenpeace to Planned Parenthood, kids with boxes of candy to homeless holding cardboard with hand-written appeals for spare change.

A range of questions run through my head when I’m solicited - everything from where I stand on the issue, how much time it will take or how much will go to the charity. I also wonder if I am being scammed.

My first instinct was to keep walking. I was rushing to get home to pack for a flight later that day.

But I stopped.

“What do you guys have going on?” I asked.

George spoke first. He explained they were raising money for children who were neglected and abused. The taller man, Dante, stood quiet.

“Did you know that child abuse and human trafficking are at an all-time high?” Said George.

“So, what are you doing about it?”

George reached for a backpack that was lying on the table. He explained that they fill the bags with necessities for kids transitioning from an abusive situation.

I didn’t need to know more to donate. It was a cause that I cared about.

But I was curious about what I could learn about sales from two guys standing on the corner all day.

“So, what’s the hardest part of this job?”

Dante looked up. His voice was soft.

"It’s mentally hard to stand here when people just pass by and ignore us. I don’t understand why some have so much but won’t give to kids who need so little.”

“So, what pulls you through?”

George’s put his shoulders back and stuck his chest out a little. His tone was serious but sincerely empathetic.

“We know what it’s like to go through tough times. But we also know it only takes one person to make a difference.”

“If we’re not here, then who?” Said George

George and Dante keep standing. Determined. Hopeful to find just one.

It was a powerful lesson in perseverance.

We all face challenges in the work we do. Yours might be long hours, harsh feedback, lack of appreciation or rejection.

As for salespeople, resist letting the number of meetings booked, buyers engaged, or deals won be your only measure of validation.

The people you’re doing it for depend on you to keep standing.

And if not you, then who?

tony

The Door Men 

I always wonder if people are put in our lives to teach us something. And although it seems random, it often happens when I need to learn the most.  

I watch out for those people and be open to the lessons that come my way.  

I had another ordinary encounter with an extraordinary person that completely changed my perspective on perseverance.

Here’s what happened: 

Over the last four years spent building esellas, I’ve often felt like giving up. It’s always when something unexpectedly difficult/complex impacts the business. This tends to be a weekly occurrence for a start-up.  

I was having one of those ‘throwing in the towel’ moments, and I decided to go for a walk.  

I kept going.  

I was coming to the end of it when I saw a familiar face. It was a doorman from my building. But he was standing at the entrance of another building.  He seemed to be working at another location, looking as dapper as ever.  

“Tony?” 

“Oh, hi, Chris”

“You work here?”

“Yup”

“Really! Often?”

“I work about 40 hours a week, sometimes a little more”.

I was taken aback. Tony easily works 40 hours a week at our building. Tony’s job has a heavy physical element to it. At 61 years old, it felt unusual.  

“How long have you been working here?

Tony paused for a second - “Let me see. About 20 years.”

Tony had worked at our building for 43 years.  He started at 18.

“Tony, you’ve worked 80 hours a week for the past 20 years?”  

I am not blind to the fact that a second gig is what it takes to make today. To get to even a modest wage. But 80 hours seemed excessive. It got me curious.  

“Is this what it takes for you to get by?”

And here’s the most amazing part of the story.   

“No. It just sort of happened this way.”

Tony went on to explain. 

When The Barclay was converting from a hotel to condominiums, he was told by incoming management that he may not have a job.  As a backup plan, Tony found part-time work at another building.  

Eventually, Tony retained his job at The Barclay.  

While he no longer needed the part-time gig, he didn’t have the heart to leave. Tony felt a sense of obligation. The other building helped Tony when he needed the added sense of security. He was grateful and, therefore, forever loyal.  

“They had trouble finding people, so they kept asking me to take more hours. I kept saying yes.  Before I knew it, I was working full-time at both places.” 

“That’s very admirable, Tony. But haven’t you fulfilled your obligation? Why do you keep both jobs now?” 

In the humblest tone, Tony responded - 

“Because I made a commitment. And, I never quit.”

Sam Altman, founder of ChatGTP, says the most underrated quality of a founder is sheer determination. It’s not brains or creativity but grit.  He went on to say that most people simply just give up.  They succumb to the pain and uncertainty.  

Entrepreneurs are far from the only ones with a difficult road of travel.  All of us fail and fall down.  When this happens, most of us stop.  It’s the rare person who can keep going.

We work in an age where employers and employees easily give up on each other. Employers ignore the long-term payoff by investing in people, while employees often feel underutilized and undervalued.

But occasionally, you meet a man like Tony, who defies conventional thinking methods and reminds you of more important values.  

They’re the principled and uncompromising ones. Tony and the people like him are the foundational fabric of our society and workplaces.  

I felt fortunate for randomly running into Tony. I’m glad I didn’t stop walking that day. But now, all I could think about was getting back to work.  

Happy Not Giving Up Today! 

twum

There are two gas stations directly across from one another in my town. Aside from their logos, it’s hard to tell them apart.

Both:

Are reputable brands.
Are in great condition.
Have the same # of pumps.
Prices are identical.
Use attendants (it’s Jersey).

But there’s almost always a line at one of the stations, even if the other one is empty. I estimate that one serves ~30% more cars each day.

My theory:

It’s partially because of the man in this picture. His name is Twum.

People know they will have a positive experience when Twum pumps their gas.

He moves fast. He’s incredibly courteous. Twum goes further and does more than expected while expecting nothing in return.

After squeegee-ing your windows, sometimes he doesn’t even wait for a tip; he moves to the next car.

It’s as if he gets satisfaction by helping drivers see more clearly.

Although gasoline is a pure commodity, and filling a tank is purely transactional, one person can make a huge difference in the sale.

Products and services are nearly indistinguishable to buyers. It’s only getting harder to tell two SaaS tools, IT service companies or medical devices apart.

A salesperson is the last line of differentiation. Never underestimate your ability to make it matter. Do more, go further.

Happy Selling!

By the way… I’m surprised other gas stations haven’t poached Twum yet. Maybe they think their gas sells all by itself.

tim

I took this picture of my brother last week.

It looks like two random guys are talking, but we have an essential sales lesson here.

Spoiler alert: a little interest goes a long way.

Here’s the story:

I was at my brother Tim’s house to drop off my dog while my wife and I were on a business trip.

We were pressed for time and wanted to catch up, so I went with him to drive his daughter to school.

Driving through Tim’s town has the risk of taking longer than expected because we often encounter someone wanting to talk with him.

I thought this time would be different. Tim had a conference call, and I had a flight to catch.

But it wasn’t.

We stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts. As we walked in the door, someone shouted Tim’s name.

“I need to say a quick hello to this guy,” Tim says.

A quick hello quickly turned into a long conversation. Knowing how much he had on his plate, I walked over to give Tim an excuse to cut it short.

He smiled but shrugged me off.

I watched from a distance. Tim didn’t reach for his phone once. He didn’t glacé at his watch or look past the guy to see who else might be walking through the door. He didn’t sway or tap his foot to signal that he was in a hurry. He didn’t budge from where he was standing.

Instead, Tim engaged with everything he had.

I’m unsure what this guy knew about my brother, but Tim could tell you the man’s life story. Tim knew all about his masonry business, that his son had joined the Navy, then graduated from Drexel and is now planning to be a barber. Tim knew about a situation that nearly tanked the family business.

Here’s the thing: my brother didn’t have a lot to “gain” from the conversation. The guy he was talking with wasn’t a client or prospect. They’re in completely different worlds in many respects.

And here’s why this stuck with me…

In sales, we often talk with someone while quietly sizing them up. We ask ourselves, are they important? Do they have a budget? Do they have authority? Do they have a need? We are taught to sniff out the power base and treat others as pedestrians.

The problem is that this approach leaves a wake of people in our path feeling insignificant while perpetuating the self-serving stereotype of salespeople. We also walk by some precious insights along the way.

Although I’ve been watching this my whole life, I never tire of seeing people stand a little taller and smile a little bigger because my brother showed a little interest in them.

It conjures up one of my favorite quotes from Maya Angelou:

“People won’t remember what you said or did; they will remember how you made them feel.” - Maya Angelou.

As you search for your next ideal buyer, be sure to see people along the way. It might surprise how much value you create from the interaction.

evan

I had someone knock on my door yesterday, selling water.

And honestly, it was refreshing.

Here’s what happened.

Evan Rodriguez-Engel is 26. He recently got his commercial driver’s license. He’s a delivery person for BlueTriton Brands. They supply water to homes and businesses in Central Jersey.

BlueTriton wanted to improve productivity by increasing the customer density of its routes, so it offered drivers a small commission to land new customers.

Evan hadn’t sold anything before, but he was willing to give sales a try.

Here’s why:

Evan believes that having fresh water is important. He believes he’s doing something good by saving families valuable time (and back pain) from going to the grocery store and carrying heavy cases of water bottles. He also trusts that what’s good for the company is also good for him.

I asked Evan how he gets his leads. He said his company uses a digital agency that sources leads using ads and cadences of email outreach.

The leads usually miss the mark because the truck Evan drives is huge, and the homes they select are either off the beaten path or located on too narrow streets.

Instead of waiting for more unqualified leads, Evan took matters into his own hands. He knows that for every customer he delivers water to, there are 100s he drives past that aren’t customers.

Evan didn't stop working when he finished his deliveries at 1 o’clock yesterday. Instead, he stopped at my house and knocked on my door, probably a few others returning to the office.

You’d think that knocking on doors would be intimidating, let alone unproductive. Even the Girl Scouts have abandoned door-to-door selling instead of hanging out in places with more foot traffic.

But Evan knocked anyway. It was so simple and yet so innovative:

Maybe I’m old school, but I believe less is more in sales. I think “personalization-at-scale” is an oxymoron. At the risk of sounding like a relic in our productivity-obsessed world, I trust human intuition and believe in the power of human intervention. Adding AI/ML to speed up the analysis without outsourcing the thinking feels like a winning formula.

Evan thanked me for answering the door and for listening to his pitch.

I’m glad I did.

Evan reminded me to keep my eyes up, look for patterns, see the signals and have the courage to keep knocking. And most importantly, making it human makes all the difference.

Now I’m thirsty.

Happy Selling Evan.

alana

It’s Tuesday morning. I’m rushing to catch a flight from Newark to LA.

I’m looking forward to seeing my team taking a former client to see the Rams play at Sofi Stadium. But not thrilled about travelling.

It’s a 6-hour flight. Airports are messy. Parking spots are sparse. Lines are long, and getting through security is Russian roulette.

I navigate rush-hour traffic on the Turnpike. Heart rate up, I bagged one of the last spots on the rooftop of Garage C. It was raining.

Scurrying down escalators, dodging crowds and negotiating around a family blocking the isle with a sea of Samsonites.

A little damp and out of breath, I finally get to security. I use CLEAR (clearme.com) to skirt the line.

As I approach the scanners, a young woman greets me.

“You made it!”

A mask cannot hide her big smile. She makes a path for me.

“This will only take a second.”

After guiding me through the retina scan, she directed me to the next queue.

Standing alongside me as my security Sherpa, she says

“I’ll get you through here.”

Her name is Alana.

Alana stood on her tiptoes to look for an opening. But Nothing appeared. To take my mind off the long line, she asks…

“Ready for the Holidays?”

“Nope,” I quipped.

I am not usually one for small talk when I travel, but something about Alana made me think this interaction wasn’t insignificant.

“Are you?” I inquire.

“No. But I will be.” Alana said with humble confidence.

While we chatted, I learned that Alana has a lot on her plate. In addition to a full-time job, she has a 4-year-old and 10-month-old baby at home.

That’s where her juggling begins.

Alana explained.

“We have to move, that’s all.”

“Move? Have to? Why?”

“Our landlord sold our home.”

“When?”

“By the end of this month.”

Let that sink in as you scroll through your holiday “to-do” list.

“Eeesh.”

“It’s fine. Things happen. They always do. I got this. I love this time of year, don’t you?”

This is not a sad story. Alana had strength; she wasn’t seeking sympathy from a stranger.

This is all about perspective and the power of a positive attitude.

While I believe we only get what we can handle, Alana is loaded up. She had reason to be dissatisfied with the situation. But she wasn’t. If she was disappointed, it didn’t show.

She wasn’t even the slightest bit preoccupied. At that moment, she focused on getting a slightly stressed businessman through security so I would have a good experience.

And that is precisely what she did. That’s what Alana does and takes great pride in doing.

It might have been an insignificant moment for Alana and one of many she would repeat, but it was a memorable and meaningful one for me. She made a difference.

If you happen to travel through Newark, look out for Alana. You’ll be happier for it.

Please let her know she's making it matter - one traveler at a time.

Happy Working

joyce

Nothing makes me happier than watching someone who finds joy in the work they do.

Here’s one. Hope it makes you smile.


I wanted to enjoy a cup of coffee this morning. Honestly, I was looking to delay the workday.

The idea of one of those hip coffee shops with trendy music playing in the background where everyone is already working on their laptops wasn’t appealing. I wanted to see people’s faces. Maybe even a conversation. So, I drove a few towns over to Highstown, NJ.

The Highstown Diner is a classic. It’s been in the community for more than 90 years. It’s the kind of place where most of the patrons don’t use laptops to do their jobs.

It sits across from an old-fashioned post office - a place where people mail things to their loved ones - especially this time of year:).

The diner has a very simple exterior. It’s the size of a railroad car. A bar with pink barstools runs the length of the place. Small booths line the windows. The decor probably hasn’t changed since it opened, and it shouldn’t.

As I entered, an elderly waitress was hunched over the end of the bar. Without looking up, she yells, “sit anywhere honey”.

The name on her badge is Joyce.

As I sat in the last booth, with a slight smile and a scratchy, south-Jersey accent, she says

“Coffee….bourbon, scotch?”.

Joyce takes care of everyone. She addresses them as sweetie, honey, or darlin. She asks the regulars about their families. To the unfamiliar faces she asks, “where ya from?”

Here’s what I learned in the time I sat there…

Joyce is 82 years old. Her husband, who passed, would have been 86. She put four kids through college. Her youngest son passed away from cancer. Joyce has six great-grandchildren. One died this weekend in a motorcycle accident. She tears up ever so slightly telling me this last story. But doesn’t cry.

Between fights with the cash register, Joyce pours more coffee, makes more small talk and keeps moving.

She’s got a job to do. People need to be fed. They need coffee. Her customers want someone to listen to them from time to time. Knowing someone cares, even just a little bit makes a big difference.

That’s what Joyce does.

Happy Monday. Find purpose and keep moving.

Happy Selling.