Coffee's for Closers

“Hi, may I help you?”

“Yes, I need a new phone for my wife. We’re just looking for something simple, and when she was in here yesterday, she saw…”

“Well, we have this nice iPhone over here, it has email, video and MP3 playback, a high-resolution camera, a full keyboard, an appointment scheduler...”

“Yeah, well, that’s nice, but she just needs a phone for calls and texts.”

“Oh. I see. That’s too bad, because this phone over here is a next-generation unit, where she could send emails, check the weather, keep her appointments.”

“We just want a regular phone, nothing fancy. What about this one over here?”

“Oh, I don’t know. That phone’s really out of date, last generation. The quality isn’t that good, and…”

“But you’re still selling it, right? It works, right?”

“It’s OK.”

“Well, that’s what I want.”

“OK.” Sighs heavily. “How can we help your wife maximize the productivity of this phone? How about a phone charger or a Bluetooth?”

“No, we’re good.”

“Really? We’ve got a law in this state that you gotta be hands-free when you’re driving. It’s really convenient when you’re wife is late or in a hurry.”

“You know her well.”

“And you don’t always get a chance to recharge the phone before heading out the door for dance lessons or the baseball game.”

“Seriously, we’re good. So I can get this phone for $9.95? That’s what it says here.”

Squints at sign. “Well, that’s what it says, but let me check. Hmm, I’m sorry. You need to have a $20 text or data plan.”

“Sounds good to me. I have an unlimited texting plan.”

“No, you have to buy a new service or bundle that adds up to an additional $20 a month or more.”

“Really. How much without the discount?”

“$39.95.”

“That'll work. We'll go that way, then.”

“How about a telephone protection plan?”

“A what?”

“A telephone protection plan. If something happens to your phone, we’ll replace it for a nominal fee.”

“Is that like life insurance for my phone?”

Smiles. “Exactly.”

Smiles. “No thanks. I think Obama’s gonna cover that in his health plan.”

Smile turns to frown. “OK, then, but if this phone gets lost or damaged, it will cost $200 to replace it.”

“Two hundred dollars? For this phone? A last generation phone without a keyboard that won’t do email or let you check the Web for weather?”

“That's correct, sir.”

“Still don’t want it.”

“Here you go. Now, if you get a phone call asking about the assistance I provided to you today, I would like you to feel comfortable giving me a five, the highest rating. Is there anything else I can do for you today that would help me get that five?”

“Besides trying to tell me a phone I don’t want and accessories I won’t use, badmouthing the phone I actually have an interest in , telling me I can get a $30 discount only if I agree to spend an additional $500 over the next two years, and then tell me it will cost $200 – the retail price of a notebook computer – to replace my last-generation, no email, no weather, no appointments phone?

Narrows eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“How about a moist towelette? For some reason, I feel dirty.”