The Law of Average Continue New: What My Days Were Like
In case you wondered, it was never a dull moment when I walked inside of a bar with a dancer pussy lip gripping a stripper pole with her body upside down legs opening and closing seducing customers to the tracks beat. Her legs began moving like a pair of scissors in between the brass pole as if she was polishing the tarnished areas with her thong. I made some decent cash, I didn’t mind looking at a two piece with a string up the ass. I had work to do, but I always managed to glance at the girls in the background who would be taking a break so they would become interested. The girls had the money attached to their thigh. A flirty maybe 5’5-ish sexy chocolate skin medium thick dancer with a pretty face ask if she could dance on me after she got off the dance floor. This beauty even managed to ask me to detach the money from her body if I wanted a sell. Some of the ladies would continue lap attention with their customers while I went through my sales presentation all the way through until I dropped multiple pieces on multiple girls. I’ve even rung buzzer’s making a few all nude spots relevant and shot my pitch inside of there. You have to get familiar with the managers who could be the bartenders on day shift before you get acquainted with the staff. When I walk into any business, my first instinct is to ask for the manager.
In the field, it felt pretty fucking good when you know as a salesperson you have made the law of averages work. You have talked to one hundred people and ten percent said “yes I want that.” You have a few hours to work and you continue dropping pieces surpassing what your anticipation was for that day. You go back to the office turn in whatever merch you didn’t sell and sit down with the manager to collect your portion of the money you made that day. If checks were collected as payment on a few items, you the salesperson at that moment still receive your portion of the commission, in cash. As soon as I walked upstairs, the bell that I would slowly raise up above my head to ring signaling my success made the office excited. Everyone would began clapping, asking, “how many pieces did you drop?” The piece rate set for the contest could be eighty to ninety individual pieces of product each person must sell to win. If each person competing sold the piece rate, the person who sold more would win. Non arrogantly I loved giving other top trainers a homemade pie right in the face smashed and spreaded evenly. Their was a contest and I won.
Max AKA BraineMatter AKA DeWayne White
Max Pro Check Publishing®
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