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Kegels and the Irish Jig — Smashing’s New Selling Techniques

March 14, 2011

As any world-class sales person will tell you, don’t leave a customer when they are in the midst of making a buying decision.  If you do, they almost never spend to the level you want.  It was this philosophy that almost led to one of the more embarrassing moments in Smashing history…..

Since our trunk show, word has been spreading fast of Smashing.  We’ve had phone calls, emails, etc of people wanting to try on and see what it is all about.  So my home known as “web headquarters” has also turned into our “showroom.”

This means there is a constant stream of people coming through my house at all times of the day to see the line.  This also means that I need to keep the house clean and picked up at all times.  This would be an easier task if I didn’t have 3 young children.

Yesterday  I was waiting for a woman to come over any minute to look at the line.  My 3 little cherubs are eating their lunch at the kitchen counter.  There are more crumbs on the floor than in their bellies.  Seriously?

I ask them to pick up the crumbs.  In the process of getting off the stools to get the crumbs, they knock over a drink.  Uggh.  That’s it….I quick wipe up the spilled drink, start picking up the crumbs and say something brilliant, ” THERE WILL BE NO MORE EATING IN THIS HOUSE EVER!”

There, problem solved.

At this point I hear my oldest, who is prone to saying things under her breath, whisper, “I think Mom is on the dots again.”

While normally I would engage in this kind of back talk, I decide to ignore it.  The dots are soooo last week.

Now the doorbell rings.

Brilliant.  I have a 2 handfuls of crumbs and have to pee.

I open the door with my elbows.

I show our customer all the styles pointing with my elbow.  She gives me a concerned look.  Not sure if it is because of the elbow movements or the fact that I’ve started to hop as I really have to pee.

She takes a dress to try on.  I quick empty my handful or crumbs into the trash and break up the fight that has begun between by 3 and 6-year-old.

She comes out of the dressing room – drat, no time to pee.

“That looks wonderful!” I say as I now have begun the intro steps to the Irish jig

“Hmm, not sure.  Can you show me the other styles again?”

I jig on over to the showroom.  I show her the alternate dress.

“Are you ok?” she asks “You seem to be, um, dancing.”

“Oh yeah, I’m great.” I say in a slightly higher voice “I’m just real excited for St Patrick’s Day.”

I am now cursing myself for not doing those Kegels when I was pregnant.

She snatches another dress to try on and I begin to dance over to the potty, when she pops back out of the dressing room

“You know.  I think I should look at the separates too.”

I begin praying to God that if he can help me hold it, just a little longer, I promise to do Kegels for the rest of my life.

I am now dancing so fast that I could be a performer in Riverdance.  The neighborhood dogs have also begun to circle the property as my voice has reached some superhuman high-pitched level.

I pirouette over to the separates area, find a few pieces and rush her to the dressing room.

“There I say,” in such a high-pitched voice that it is barely audible, “That should work”

Quick close the door of the dressing room — and jig as fast as possible to the bathroom.

Whew!  That was close.

She eventually bought the dress.  All the neighborhood dogs went back to their rightful owners.  And now I can ice my knee from all that Irish dancing.

2011 Copyright Smashing LLC 2010 Copyright



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