I spent the last year of high school working in my uncle’s family shoe store in a small California valley community.
My Uncle Jack had two employees. While both were named Bill, any similarity ended there. The older Bill, I’ll refer to him as Bill senior, was a man in his fifties and had been selling shoes all his adult life. He understood the fitting process, possessed the basic product knowledge and was thoroughly experienced in the sales setting. When we were not with customers there was always something else to do. Providing for deliveries, pricing, merchandising, display management and product information was only the beginning.
Bill senior was never interested in our small but dynamic retail environment, spending most of his day standing in one place waiting for the next customer. Pretty much like a vending machine. When a customer came into the store Bill senior would greet them courteously then wait patiently for the customer to select a style they would like to see. Many times he couldn’t find the shoe because he hadn’t taken the time to help us position the inventory which was always moving as new styles replaced old and sold inventory
Bill would bring out the shoes, one pair at time, until the customer made a decision or left the store without making a purchase. Bill senior was the classic sales vendor. Simply dispensing on demand one pair of shoes at a time, and limping along from pay check to pay check. How many people have you known like this? Just stepping through the motions.
Bill junior was in his mid twenties. Unlike Bill senior, he was a blizzard of activity. If he wasn’t busy checking new inventory, or rearranging the sales floor, he was reading the manufacturers product brochures. Bill junior was an absolute whiz at reciting the features and benefits of every style and application, and he had become an expert in western wear and work boots as well. While on his break I would often see Bill junior in front of the store chatting with people on the street while Bill senior was usually in the back room smoking a cigarette.
While Bill senior who was usually found standing in the same place waiting for a single customer, Bill junior was often with two, three and sometimes four customers at a time. I soon learned that Bill junior was not a shoe salesman. He was really a leader serving as a mentor and confidant building personal relationships who just happened to sell shoes for a living. No two customers were treated the same way, and his approach to the relationship was always dictated by the unique needs of the customer. His every action was intended to expand the path of choice while leading the customer to the point of decision.
Bill was the master of observation and inquiry. I was once completing the sale of a pair particularly nice black dress shoes to a gentleman who was gushing effusively about how much he liked that particular style. Bill reminded me, as the customer listened, that we had the same style in brown. I KNEW THAT! But I was caught up in the decision, while Bill was observing how the decision was made. The customer included the brown shoe with his purchase without trying them on, and I learned a valuable lesson. It was through Bill junior that I discovered the priceless principles of value.
Our community was located in a high desert region of Southern California, and populated largely by the agricultural and aircraft manufacturing industries which produced a continuous demand for work shoes constructed with mandated safety features. Bill junior visited the local farm bureau and aircraft production facilities in order to familiarize himself with the working conditions, and was an expert in the construction, benefits and specific application of each style. For western wear, or a work shoe, everyone came to Bill.
He had learned to manifest his personal value through an ability to identify and tie the value of the product to the unique needs of the customer. People came from all around the Valley for his fitting and product advice. Bill junior didn’t sell shoes; he was a “footwear consultant”. They sent their co-workers and friends, who sent their families, who sent their neighbors and acquaintances for all of their footwear needs.
Bill senior and Bill junior had the same job, same skills, and they worked in the same store with the same opportunities. Bill senior lived in a small apartment, drove a small car and lived on a small income which supported he and his wife. Bill junior lived in one of the biggest houses in town. He vacationed with his wife and daughter in Hawaii, traveled to Europe and drove the first Mercedes I ever saw.
But for those who saw Bill senior and Bill junior on the street . . . they were just shoe salesmen.