the psychologist is boiling, the rage, whenever she tells this story in the family circle. A little story about a misunderstood concept-customer proximity, courage, and mental Overload: I was in town and wanted to meet my 80-year-old mother in a rather high-priced bed business. My mother is a small, petite woman, which makes from appearances little and to this day, in a worn-out jacket on the way.
I was a witness to a humble sales call ends. There was something terribly wrong, I positioned myself behind a mattress pile and overheard dialogue: Modest, my mother asked for special offers, the perfectly styled, the seller pre-teetered on High Heels, looked at her dismissively from the top down. Listless, the employee showed it to a few cheap parts, but refused, despite shy, of oral and Please my mother, to go to the warehouse to get a different model.
“I’m going to leave the money in the competition”
you are not treated the customer like a Queen, but as a beggar, who had strayed from the arms of the Eifel in the big city and with no revenue left. On this day I came home from a meeting and wore fortunately, my all-purpose date outfit. I stepped in, I greeted my mother warmly and to me, the arrogant seller avenged.
Loud and indignant, I said: “Actually, I wanted to mattresses and things for our just related to the house purchase. I wish I had left a hefty sum here. But I have become a witness of how my mother down to have appreciated. I’m going to leave the money in the competition. I will report them to the Executive Committee. In writing!“ I was so loud that other customers looked up and curiously listened.
