One of the more amazing marketing efforts I've seen was a lady, of
about nineteen or twenty, selling bookmarks for Muscular Dystrophy on the
front steps of the Portland City Library.
"Would you like to buy a bookmark for Muscular Dystrophy?" she'd say to
passerby's as she presented them with a glittered bookmark. There was no
missing the bookmark, or the card, pinned to her shirt, that had '$1'
printed on it, or the colorful bow in the big boned, but pretty young
girls hair.
I was researching the subject of sales and marketing at the time
trying to up my skill level from the fifteen or twenty dollars a week I
was making in a telemarketing 'boiler' room selling tickets for the
Policeman's Ball. A 'boiler' room is where you make six hundred calls in
an evening and if you get lucky, make one or two sales and get ten to
fifteen percent of the sale. During the days I would do research at the
beautiful old brick and marble library building, downtown, where hundreds
or maybe thousands of people walked up the marble steps to the front
entrance each day. That's where this young girl was selling her
bookmarks.
I couldn't afford the dollar and felt guilty asking how many she had
sold. "About a hundred", she replied.
I quickly did the math in telemarketing rejection units. "That's
amazing," I said with all sincerity.
"Would you like to buy a bookmark for Muscular Dystrophy," she went on
to a passerby working to distance herself from the non-sale, me.
This twenty year old was no amateur. She had obviously put a lot of
thought into her marketing effort. She was a pro and somehow you knew,
talking to her, that this was a business woman destined for wealth and
success.
Since I had worked in a telemarketing room, I was painfully aware that
the charity we were calling for only got a small percentage of the
proceeds. It was a justification people made, because it was a job, and
it's just as important that people make a living as raise money for
charity. Combining the two seems to make perfect sense in the reality of
the world, where volunteers could never bring themselves to put up with
the abuse it takes to raise money. "What percentage goes to Muscular
Dystrophy," I asked?
She stopped selling and said "Twenty percent." Still trying to shake
me, I think, but with convincing enthusiasm she went on. "They only
require five percent but my costs aren't as high. Anybody can use their
name if they tell them, and raise money at five percent."
It was an artful dodge that went over my head, till later and I was
still intrigued by her marketing skills. It was better than reading a
book so I asked: "How long have you been selling?"
"Twenty minutes, and it only took me about an hour to make all these,"
she said pointing to a box with neatly stacked bookmarks. "I sprinkle the
glitter on paper and then iron the ribbon and plastic on each side."
She once again handed me a bookmark to examine. This was a nice
bookmark to boot. The multiple ribbons would allow a reader to mark
several pages in a book. If I had had a dollar I would have bought one.
"Would you like to buy a bookmark for Muscular Dystrophy," she said
to a passerby who pulled a dollar out of his wallet.
I watched for several more minutes as she sold bookmark after bookmark
in an Amazing, American marketing effort, I often think. We no longer
have the resources to harvest to make a living, and most of us seek jobs
in industry or service, and if we get lucky are able to buy a house or
car. But the really big money, the highest paid profession, as a matter
of fact, is sales and marketing. This must be how, I'm sure, an expert
got her start.
