Page 7 of Advanced Chemistry

“One yes erases the failure of ninety-nine no’s,” I told him, bowing as if I were a wise monk.

“A quote from The Book of Anton?” Sebastian raised his eyebrow.

“From the latestTop of Sales Mountainpodcast ep.”

“I gotta get caught up on that.”

“Remember, sales is a numbers game. We’re getting our reps in.”

Sebastian was the nervous one between us, the thoughtful one. Sure, I was getting a little nervous myself that this was a mistake. A business couldn’t survive off no’s. We needed more yeses if we were going to grow and make this work long-term.

“One name left,” Sebastian said. I followed his eyes to our joint spreadsheet. “Craig Wimmer at Hollis.”

I gulped back a lump in my throat as I read over the name. There was a reason Hollis Property Management was at the bottom of the list. I was saving the best for last. Ninety-nine cold calls could thicken my skin to dial the big whale. Craig Wimmer was in charge of procurement for Hollis, which oversaw twenty multi-story office buildings in the region. Each floor in each building needed a vending machine.

“Let’s call together,” I said.

Sebastian came around to my desk. We huddled over my phone. I pounded a good luck fist on his muscular thigh. I dialed the number; Sebastian hit send.

“Hello,” said a gruff man after two rings.

Adrenaline spiked my system, and I was off.

“Hi Craig, this is Anton and Sebastian from Vending Solutions. I know we’re calling you out of the blue, but I was hoping we could have twenty-three seconds of your time to tell you why we’re calling and see if you’re interested.”

Craig groaned out a phlegmy sigh that lasted an eternity. I came up with the twenty-three seconds part to pique interest.

“Sure,” he said.

Sebastian’s face lit up. I pointed at him.All you, dude.

“Thank you, Craig. We provide and stock high-quality vending machines to businesses which keep employees refreshed and more productive throughout their day. How are your properties’ vending machines currently working for you?”

I gave Sebastian two big thumbs up. The man could pitch.

“They’re fine,” he said unconvincingly. The f-word made my ears perk up almost as much as the other f-word. “I haven’t heard any complaints.”

“Fine, hmm…” I flashed Sebastian a smile. “Craig, what’s stopping these vending machines from being excellent or outstanding?”

“They work. They’re a little outdated, but like I said, no complaints from tenants.”

Sebastian leaned over the phone. “Craig, we’ve talked with hundreds of building managers. Many of them never hear complaints from tenants, but then are blindsided when a tenant doesn’t want to renew their rental agreement. Has that ever happened with Hollis?”

“Actually…yeah. Two this year so far.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is that why you’re working on a Saturday?” I asked. “You should be out on the golf course on a day like today!”

Our initial, non-stalker research on Craig showed that the man loved to golf. He seemed like one of those guys who was counting down the days until he could retire to Florida and play year-round.

Craig let out a chuckle. “I wish. I’m going to try and get some holes in on Sunday.”

“On Sunday, God rested and retreated to the nearest golf course,” I threw in. Worry flashed across Sebastian’s face for a second.

What?I mouthed.

Sebastian muted the phone. “Don’t talk about religion.”

“It’s not religion. It’s God.”

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