Some habits can be changed…
We were on booth duty the morning after a long, but enjoyable evening on Bourbon Street listening to Dixieland. Well, I’d been in a club taking in the music, Kevin had been elsewhere and had returned to the hotel on the late side of night or more accurately, the early side of morning.
While I wasn’t feeling my best, Kevin appeared to be his normal, remarkably chipper and vibrant self. Or perhaps it was a few healthy doses of caffeine.
While Kevin staffed a demo station, my job was to trawl for prospects lurking just beyond our booth. Many folks would stand just out of range, so to speak, and I’d learned that if you walked directly up to them, you’d likely scare them away.
Instead, I applied what chemists would call an SN2 backside attack. I would note my target’s location and circle around, finally approaching them from behind and sidling up alongside. After a moment, I’d ask, “What caught your attention about our booth?”
Surprised, they’d admit they were interested in one product or another but were clearly holding back, cautious to engage. I’d ask, “Would you like a brief demo of that offering?”
Most prospects replied, “Sure.” And I’d escort them to Kevin’s demo station.
To fully set the scene, you need to visualize a very bright, earnest, smiling character in his late twenties, attired in a button-down long sleeve shirt topped with a handtied bowtie. Nearly a clone of Pee-wee Herman (in his prime)!
The gentleman who I brought over to Kevin this particular time had a deep Texas drawl that was slow, mellifluous, and filled with inspirational homilies.
After showing a crisp, compelling example of what our chemistry tool could do, we would invite our prospect to suggest their own search.
“Would you like to look for something you are working on?” suggested Kevin.
“Could ah? Why, certainly!” he replied. He drew a few structures on a sheet of paper and Kevin got to work forming a search query. As Kevin labored, the mouse moved furiously around the screen and as he paused to think, the mouse twitched, circled aimlessly, and migrated wildly from location to location.
“Son, y’all should put the brakes on that mouse,” intoned our guest.
Kevin glanced up and smiled, then returned to drawing the desired reaction.
Our prospect watched the mouse gyrations for another moment then gently reached down and placed his hand on Kevin’s, saying, “Son, y’all’ve got a real zippy mouse there! Can ya sloooooooow it down?”
There were two pieces of good news that came from this interaction. First, this prospect did end up licensing our software and became a strong supporter, serving as a reference, and providing terrific talks at our users’ conferences.
Second, Kevin did learn to slow his mouse down.
Moral: Zippy Mouse Syndrome is curable!
From Suspending Disbelief: A Collection of Sales, Presales, and Marketing Stories (and Lessons Learned) https://tinyurl.com/yc7rsrmy
No comments:
Post a Comment