I think I know a good salesperson when I meet one. I should do, having worked in sales for more than ten years myself.

I originally ‘cut my teeth’ selling insurance in my early twenties. It was commission-only. You were given a desk, a phone, a nudge in the right direction, and that was it!

You had to learn how to sell, fast… or you didn’t eat.

So whenever I encounter a salesman or saleswoman these days, I’m not that easily impressed. But occasionally, I do meet someone who really does impress me.

This is the story of Louis, one of the best salesmen I have ever met.

He was not your archetypal pumped-up salesman. In fact, Louis’ approach was surprisingly laid-back. But for me, he will always epitomise the true sales professional. He was excellent at prospecting, laser-focused and, above all, very persistent.

Over the years, I have often used him as an example when teaching ‘prospecting techniques’ to other salespeople and sales teams.

The best way for me to tell his story is to share, step-by-step, exactly what unfolded from the day I first bumped into him.

Part One: Hook and capture

I was at a marketing fair at the NEC (National Exhibition Centre) in Birmingham. It was the Spring of 2001. I was running a flourishing small business at the time and was always on the lookout for great ideas to help expand our sales.

It was a sprawling event, with hundreds of booths packed together in a labyrinth of aisles. A vast range of suppliers, all competing to offer their products and services, would eagerly try to grab your attention.

It often felt like ‘running the gauntlet’. If you dared stop and show more than three seconds of interest in something, either a super-enthusiastic salesman or an attractive saleswoman would spring forward with an optimistic glint in their eyes:

“Hello, Sir. And how are you today?” or “We’ve got a special 20% show offer for today only!” …or perhaps something even more original.

After dodging several hopefuls along one particular aisle, a well-presented booth caught my eye. The company was displaying a range of heavy-duty and expensive-looking desktop laminating machines.

We already had a machine in our office that we used almost daily to laminate our sales flyers. We used the extra-enhanced leaflets it created to give to our visitors and for the sales packs we mailed out.

While lingering for a moment to look at the machines on display, I became aware of a neatly dressed, slim, thirty-something-year-old man standing patiently behind the display table. He looked very relaxed while simply observing me with a smile.

After a few seconds, he politely asked me, “Are you familiar with laminating machines?”

“Yes, I am. We already have one, thanks.” I said defensively.

Unfazed, he asked: “Do you know the manufacturer and model?”

I mentioned the manufacturer (Rexel) and described the model.

“Yes, I know it well. It’s a reasonably good machine,” he said in a manner designed to stimulate my curiosity.

“I’m Louis, by the way,” he then said (as if to change the subject for a moment) as he thrust his hand out to shake mine.

“Can I ask you what you use your machine for?” he said.

We then embarked on a brief conversation. His approach was pleasant, and I felt comfortable. We continued to chat for a couple of minutes about the machine in our office.

Louis kept control of the conversation nicely. He asked brief questions while leaving me time to answer and space to think. I did most of the talking, but he also adroitly steered me towards some of the known issues associated with the machine we used.

And then came his pitch…

“These machines are designed to last. They’re not as pretty as the Rexel, but they are built like tanks and completely reliable. They’ll last you many more years and will definitely save you a significant amount of money over the long term.”

His pitch was concise and to the point, devoid of the usual nonstop embellishments that many other salesmen might feel compelled to heap on top.

He was very attentive throughout our conversation. Some salesmen love to listen to the sound of their own voices, but Louis, even when speaking, watched me intently and observed my reactions. He would have perceived that while semi-interested, I was also keen to move on.

And then, he did something I didn’t expect. Instead of pursuing anyway, the usual sequence of ‘closing questions’, he said:

“Look, there’s a lot for you here at the show. I don’t want to take up too much of your time or give you loads of brochures to carry around, either. Tomorrow, I’ll send you a comprehensive pack with everything you need to know about the range, including prices. If you are interested, you can give me a call. Does that sound reasonable to you?” He concluded with a warm smile.

“Yes, sure”, I said. It was, after all, a very reasonable offer.

“Do you have a card, please?” Louis then asked.

Now, at that moment, I knew I only had a few cards on me, and I wanted to save those for other meetings I’d planned. So I pretended I hadn’t heard him.

“How much are these smaller ones, out of interest?” I asked. He promptly gave me a price. “that sounds quite expensive,” I said (it was three times what we had paid for our Rexel laminator).

“Yes, but you will save a fortune in the long run,” he said. “I’ll send you the data to show that as well”.

“Do you have a card?” He asked again, this time a bit more firmly.

I decided to side-step his request again. “I don’t have any spare cards on me, I’m afraid”.

One side of me felt that I didn’t want to be drawn into spending a few hundred pounds on a new machine at that stage. But I was also intrigued by his personable approach and curious about what he might do next.

“That’s no problem at all”, he said (reacting swiftly before I could walk away). He immediately picked up a notepad, strategically placed just below the display table.

“Can I just take a note of your postcode, please?” Louis asked.

Now, it would have been ‘rude’ of me not to give it to him after I had just agreed to receive a pack in the mail. So I did.

“And your street address, please?” he asked. “And the name of your company”. Finally, he asked, “And can I just take the spelling of your name, please?”

Louis then wrapped up and politely wished me a fruitful and enjoyable show and reconfirmed that he would mail me a pack in the morning. With another big smile, a slight respectful bow of the head and a final handshake, he said, “Goodbye, Mr Mukherjee. It was very nice meeting you.”

I left Louis’ stand, feeling that it had been a pleasant exchange, and carried on with the show.

Part Two: The follow-up

Two days later, back in London, tucked within the usual stack of morning mail was a large envelope. It contained everything that Louis had promised to send me, including a polite letter saying how much he enjoyed our discussion and how he hoped I had a productive show. He signed off with, “I look forward to speaking with you again soon.”

I didn’t throw the pack away. It was nicely presented, and somehow, it didn’t seem right to dispose of it just yet. I placed it in a filing cabinet and then got on with my very busy day.

Exactly one week later, Justine, our receptionist, called me. “I’ve got a guy called Louis on the phone. He says he met you at the marketing fair recently.”

“Say I’m in a meeting. Tell him ‘thank you’, I’ve got his pack, and I’ll be in touch if we have any requirements.”

I could have spoken with him and I did enjoy meeting him before, but I was very busy again that day.

After another week went by, Justine called through once more. “It’s that guy Louis again who called last week from the marketing fair? He said he’s got some very interesting news for you”…

“Tell him I’m busy”…

“I already did”, Justine replied. “He said, if you’re not free now, when’s the best time for him to call again?”…

“Tell him ‘next week after Wednesday’ ”… I would be travelling until then.

Late the following week, my phone rang once more. It was Justine. “It’s that Louis guy again. He says if you are free, he’s got something really interesting to tell you”.

I sighed. I knew then that it would be pointless to keep deferring him. He would obviously persist. “OK, put him through, Justine.”

I was ready to tell him politely that I was very busy and not particularly interested in replacing our machine at the moment. But Louis immediately assumed control:

“Hello, Peter! First of all, how are you keeping? And second, did you have a good business trip earlier this week?”

I was instantly reminded of his personable manner, which immediately disarmed me. I answered his two questions, and before I could say anything else, he came neatly straight to the point:

“Look, I know you are really busy Peter, so I don’t want to take up your time now on the phone. I’m in London next week, and I’ve got a fabulous new laminating machine that I would love to show you and a very, very special deal on it too. But I promise you; absolutely no obligation! If it’s not completely right for you, I’ll be on my way. Does that sound reasonable to you?”

Once again, it wasn’t an unreasonable proposition. I couldn’t help but agree to meet again, and we fixed a time.

Part Three: The close

I met Louis the following week. He demonstrated his new laminator and presented compelling evidence on the cost benefits of a machine that would last far longer with much fewer ‘failed’ laminations than our existing one!

He did a very professional and tidy job of eventually selling it to me. Again, he mostly asked questions while helping me to persuade myself that replacing the one we had was a good idea.

It was classic selling. I ended up buying a new machine for our company at a fair discount, and we subsequently enjoyed many years of productive use from it.

An expression widely used in selling that is certainly still true today:

“People don’t buy your product; they buy you!”

Although I spent only a little time with Louis overall, he succeeded in making a good impression on me. I not only quite liked him, but I also respected him professionally. By the time I met him on the second occasion, he had already sold himself to me.

Once a salesperson reaches that stage, the process of ‘closing the deal’ is relatively straightforward (or should be if they’ve done everything else right). Prospecting is the hardest part of selling, but it is also arguably the most important part, too.

Over the years, I have organised and run several booths and stands at major trade shows, including the London Motor Show and the Ideal Home Exhibition. I have also attended countless shows myself as a prospect.

Selling at a trade show is completely different from selling to enquirers who are responding to an advert or actively looking for a particular product or service. But while the salesperson has to adapt their approach to the ‘passing consumer’ at a show, the same fundamental principles of good selling will still apply.

Louis: a text-book example of great prospecting and selling

For me, the following represent the key points that Louis both understood professionally and executed faultlessly when prospecting for me:

• Being measured and qualifying well: Rather than jumping on every prospect that showed an interest, he would patiently observe first before then asking a ‘qualifying question’. He’d already worked out that “Are you familiar with laminating machines?” was a good question to ask.

• First judgment call: Engage now or not? After the qualifying question, he would then make a decision: ‘Is this person likely to be a buyer or not? Do I let them pass so I’m free for another more likely prospect?’ In my case, I told him that we already had a laminating machine, which made me a good prospect since I was already a buyer.

• Ask questions and listen: Instead of (as many salespeople do) just singing the praises of his product, Louis would ask a few carefully considered questions to engage the prospect. Each was designed to help them visualise and establish their need for the product.

• Second judgment call: Do I try to close a deal now or capture their details for later? Occasionally, you can sell someone at the first meeting. Sometimes, it might take a few. In my case, Louis felt I might be a good prospect but probably sensed that I was impatient. He quickly decided he would be far better off capturing my details to follow up later and to use the time now to ‘establish a relationship’.

• The empathetic close: Louis was smart. He understood the pain points for a trade show visitor. Shows are hard work; there’s always a lot to get through, and no one likes to carry around bags of literature all day. It was the perfect way to capture my contact details. By getting me to agree that it would be more convenient for me to receive his literature in the mail, I would end up giving them to him. A simple notepad was also more natural and less likely to put me off than a ‘sales enquiry’ form to complete at that stage.

• Persistence (Round One): Once he knew that he was going to let me go, he became laser-focused on ONE THING only: to make sure that he captured those contact details. He would probably have asked me at least ten times before allowing me to leave! Without my details, it was highly unlikely he would ever sell me a machine.

• Making a promise and keeping to it! Louis also made me a promise (and reminded me of it when wrapping up) to send me a pack of information in the mail. He then kept his promise, sending it first class the next day. This always makes a huge impression. It shows professionalism and also garners trust. The prompt follow-up of leads from a trade show is always incredibly important. It is something that is so often mismanaged badly by salespeople and organisations alike.

• A professional wrap-up: Louis made a point of ensuring when concluding our meeting, that I would be left with an enduring and positive impression of him. This would be very important when he followed up later. He wanted to make sure I’d remember him and would be happy to engage with him again.

• Persistence (Round Two): When Louis started to call me at my office later, everything he did and said was measured and carefully considered. His messages were always polite and professional. This allowed him to be persistent and leave the door open each time to call back as many times as he might need to eventually get through to me.

• Making the appointment: This always takes skill and empathy. It’s the point where many ‘sales opportunities’ fall down. It’s easier to say ‘no’ to someone over the phone than face to face. It was the risk that Louis took of course, when letting me go at the show, but he also knew how to handle the call. His NUMBER ONE objective was, then, to win the appointment once he eventually got through to me!

Finally, selling will always be a numbers game, especially at a trade show.

The best selling is done through empathy. It’s about reading, learning about, and understanding your prospect. It’s about selling and not just telling.

Salespeople who simply hand out literature are the ones who lose out the most. While those who try to sell everything that moves will probably miss the really good prospects who walk past a busy stand or booth.

Of course, Louis wasn’t trying to sell me something hugely complex; it was a laminating machine. But he did know precisely the process to follow. It was simple, professional, and effective.

He was brilliant at prospecting and selling but above all, how to be persistent.

I still remember watching him leave the office, happy with another sale in the bag. As he drove off in a smart new BMW, I remember thinking, “He did everything right and thoroughly deserved the sale”.

He was doubtless off to his next appointment where he had similarly hooked someone else.