My Sales Experience with Thomas Nelson Publishers

In the summer of 1995, I had a sales internship with the Thomas Nelson Publishing Company. The company gave us a two-day training, and then I went out with two others, Butch and Donnie, with a sack of Bibles and children’s books, to sell door-to-door.

This was the toughest job I ever had.

The company assigned us to a small town in northern Florida, which was over 900 miles (1450 kilometers) from my home. When we finally arrived in that town, after a 15 hour drive, it was hot and barren, and the people were nasty. We had less than US$100 between the three of us, and we knew no one in that town. We didn’t know what our next meal would be, or where we would sleep that night.

After driving around for a while, we found a pay phone in a scorching hot parking lot, which was surrounded by trees and a chain link fence. (There were no mobile phones back then.) One of the first things we did was pray. Then we looked at a map and a phone book, and tried to get a clue. We phoned local churches, landlords and businesses, anyone who might rent us a room for the summer, but no luck.

After three sweltering hours with no leads, we ran out of quarters and couldn’t make any more phone calls. I was exasperated, and I sat down next to the chain link fence with my back to the guys, wiped the sweat off my face and wept. My tears in the humid heat should have made things look blurry, but I remember that moment clearly. Looking back, I suppose Butch and Donnie could have ridiculed me for being “weak”, but they never did. I guess they were equally intimidated. In fact, Donnie went off by himself for a while under the trees, so I think maybe he broke down too.

So then we went to a church, with our Thomas Nelson badges in hand, and explained to some of the leaders that we were selling Bibles and we needed a place to stay. Within two hours, we had found a home. A man named England, who was a retired Navy Seal, was taking a long summer vacation overseas, and he agreed to let us stay in his home while he was gone – free of charge. He only asked that we mow his lawn once a week, and keep his house clean. We were happy to do so. The only bad thing was that I had to share a bed with Butch.

However, England had a daughter who thought her father was stupid for letting strange salesmen stay in his home while he was away. She called us constantly, and visited us at least twice a week, just to make sure we were keeping up with things. Given our situation, we felt obligated to tolerate her. This lady noticed EVERYTHING, and she made me scrub the toilet until I knew the side of the bowl like the back of my hand.

The next two weeks went by, slower than a snail. I was only able to sell enough books and Bibles to cover my daily expenses, but over time, I was losing money. Butch had a year of experience behind him, and so he was a little more successful than I was. He loaned me US$140 to help keep me going.

The financial precariousness was only a shadow of the real, day-to-day horrors of being a salesman. My car broke down on the road, twice. People lied to me, in order to avoid me. I was vehemently cussed out at least once every day. One morning, I ate a poppyseed muffin for breakfast, and it gave me scorching hot poppyseed diarrhea all day. I fertilized the cornfields, because there were no public restrooms, and no one was admitting me into their homes. I used up all the toilet paper in my car, so by afternoon, I had to use leaves to clean up.

After a few days, I shaved my goatee, changed my hairstyle and started wearing a tie (in spite of the heat), hoping to make myself more presentable, so that I might get a warmer response from people, and sell more books. But that only made a small effect.

During the first week of knocking on doors, a huge black Doberman with a spiked collar, came up to me as I knocked on the door of a home. It growled at me fiercely. I didn’t move, because I wasn’t sure how dangerous the dog was. But while I stood there waiting for the resident to answer the door, the dog urinated all over my bag of Bibles. No one answered the door, and I thought to myself, “This dog is going to hell!” But I was wise enough to know that I should not move quickly or look the dog in the eye, so I got away unscathed, with only a smelly bag. (Fortunately, the bag was waterproof.)

One afternoon, I happened to interrupt a man’s drinking spree, and he hugged me for more than 20 minutes, talking about the great barbecue we would have on the coming Saturday. I didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled and nodded my head. His wife just stood there and wrung her hands.

Another man chased me for a mile in a 4×4 truck with a shotgun rack. When I realized he wasn’t going to quit chasing me, I stopped to talk with him. He wanted me to get out of my car and fight him, but I made the wise choice to stay in my car and let him vent. He scolded me for more than 10 minutes about how I had frightened his wife by knocking on the door of his house, and how I was creating fear in his neighborhood. I didn’t understand why he was so defensive, but I could feel his anger and frustration. I held a very respectful and apologetic tone, and eventually he calmed down, got back into his truck and left.

On a Wednesday afternoon, one lady answered the door wearing a negligee. When I opened my sales pitch, she reached behind the door and pulled a gun on me, and she asked me if I was really selling Bibles! I said I was, and she used the pistol to point me down the street and slammed the door in my face. Later, I told Butch about this incident, and he said she was probably a hooker who expected me to be a john.

One man somehow got the idea that I was doing a survey for the local Board of Education, and he called several of his neighbors to come over and meet me. They all complained to me for the next 40 minutes about how the whole school system was falling apart and how the young people were becoming degenerate as a result. I didn’t really know what to do, so I just adopted the assumed role and shook my head in agreement.

On a Thursday morning, an older man saw my big car (a 1968 Dodge Polara) and chased me with a garden hoe, yelling out, “So YOU’RE that salesman who’s been stealing kids’ bicycles!” That was a very surprising and exciting experience.

People called the police on me two or three times every day, telling them things like I had “tried to break into their homes”. But Butch, Donnie and I had already registered our presence at the town police station, so the authorities knew we were doing sales in town. Nevertheless, the police had to respond to every call. I got to know one of the policemen, Nick, on a first-name basis! But the police often did not arrive until I was two or three houses down the road from the person who called in, and it was extremely embarrassing to have the policemen interrupt my business, just when I was about to make a sale. Of course, it ruined the sale every time.

One very religious man made me sit in his kitchen chair while he gave me a big sermon about hell and damnation, and how I would wind up there if I didn’t stop “using the Lord’s Word for financial gain”. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I was losing money. He preached for a long while, as if he were determined to see my “repentance”. He only settled down after we had a prayer together. After I left his home, his words affected me, and I decided to take the rest of the afternoon off.

During the second week of sales, I had a “stroke of genius” – I should try to sell Bibles to a Church! Upon approaching one very large church with my Thomas Nelson identity, they led me into a private office and asked me to wait. While sitting there, I thought I might sell 200 Bibles! But then, about ten men, dressed in dark, stiff suits and ties came in the door. They surrounded me, and with stern gazes, drilled me with all kinds of philosophical questions about religion, expecting me to give answers that would impress a Doctor of Divinity. They asked me very specific questions about my views on salvation, sanctification, predestination, etc. They demanded, “Define your relationship with God!” Finally, after nearly an hour of interrogations, they concluded that I was a pagan rogue salesman who could not possibly be representing the worlds’ largest Bible publisher, and they kicked me out of the church!

WOW!

In a way, I could almost identify with Jesus. I mean, I was bringing the Bible to people in their homes, but they demonized me and rejected me. How could they know that I was losing money by doing so? How could they imagine my suffering?

On the other hand, a lot of people didn’t seem to care who I was or what I was doing, they were just glad to have someone to talk to. Some people were very pleasant to talk with, but many other people expected me to sit quietly and listen to them ramble on and on, usually about a very unpleasant and personal topic. But if I tried to deliver my sales pitch, or even if I just tried to change the subject, they would label me as inconsiderate, or even a fraud, and kick me out.

After knocking on hundreds of doors, I think one thing that struck me really hard, is seeing that every single home I visited, had some kind of problem or difficulty. Divorce, alcoholism, rebellious children, poverty, rejection, isolation and loneliness, anger and meanness, fear, drug abuse, manipulation and exploitation, fire damage and auto accidents, physical or mental handicaps of family members… It was depressing, really. I realized that I was a lot more “normal” than I ever realized.

I think one of the happiest people I met was a very old lady named Edna, who was a member of the local Methodist Church. She invited me into her home, even before I gave her an introduction. She knew I was hungry and tired, and she gave me a sandwich and a glass of milk, and she made polite conversation with me as I ate. Finding her was like finding an oasis in a desert. As I left, she told me she was proud of my work, and that I should come back if I ever needed anything.

Another person I am very grateful to have met, was an older black man, who was sitting on a cement block in front of his gray, two-story home. He had an old milk jug crate in front of him, and a watermelon on the ground beside him. When he saw me coming, he beckoned me to sit on another cement block that was nearby, and I did. He put a small board on top of the milk crate, and set the watermelon on top of the board. Then he grabbed a very dirty, oily piece of sheet metal from behind him, and used it to slice the watermelon. We sat there and ate the watermelon, and we never said a word to each other, but we were both very happy.

During the second week of sales, Donnie disappeared. He just didn’t come home one day. When Butch and I went into his room, we found a large stack of Bibles that he claimed to have sold, and a handwritten note from him, apologizing for lying about his “great success as a salesman”. When we counted his books and went over his papers, we discovered that he had not sold one single book! We were disheartened to find out he had lied and quit, and that he was too ashamed to face us, even to say goodbye. After that, I was glad that I shared the room with Butch. It made me realize how “alone” we really were, and how much we needed each other for moral support.

All of these things happened within two weeks!

After two weeks, I decided that my sales technique was not going to improve any further, and I was not going to be any more successful in sales than I had been so far. I had seen enough. I gave my remaining books to Butch, and wished him farewell.

The Takeaway

From this experience, I learned that I am NOT a good salesman, and that cold selling is tougher than I ever imagined. But even though this experience was so horrible, I still learned a countless number of things that have helped me in life ever since. A few of these include…

  • Make daily goals.
  • Stay on a schedule.
  • Always be prepared. (Keep a few tools, toilet paper, and water in your car.)
  • Keep your mind on your business. Stay focused. Don’t let yourself get distracted.
  • Eat healthy, square meals regularly.
  • Get a good night’s rest, every night.
  • Be aware of how people’s words can affect you.
  • Understand that the world is full of suffering, and everyone has their own struggle, so try to be a “light” of encouragement and positivity, wherever you are.
  • When people look at you with inquisitive doubts, just smile and wave.
  • Upon the occasion of an introduction, shake the persons’ hand, look him in the eye, and say your name loud and clearly.
  • Always remember a persons’ name, and at least one idea from your last discussion.
  • Find what people need, and then try to match those needs with what you can offer.
  • Keep in touch with people, especially those who encourage you.
  • Make good contacts with others, build rapport within your neighborhood and community.
  • People are special. Everyone is a little different in some way. So it is not proper to treat everyone the same way.
  • The best people to know are not always rich, educated or religious.
  • There will always be a lot of people who misunderstand and misjudge you, but it doesn’t matter. You must continue on with your life and purpose.
  • Develop a firm belief that “no matter what might happen, things will be OK”.
  • Whenever you feel like giving up, resolve to try again – just once more.

On a deeper level, I learned that certain people can be happy in any circumstances, and in spite of ones’ difficulties. I did not learn how to obtain happiness myself, while selling for Thomas Nelson, but it did make me see a little more of life. Learning a bit about how to be happy in any circumstance, is something I gained from this experience only in retrospect. I wish I would have learned this sooner than I had.

I believe my sales experience with Thomas Nelson Publishers has made me a better person, and I encourage others to take courses and jobs in sales, if only briefly for the character developing experience.