Broken Olds Cutlass Groupies Go Wild
Written by Timothy L. Drobnick Sr. 5/4/2006. Copyright
2006, all rights reserved. No part of this article can be
reproduced without the expressed written consent of Timothy
L. Drobnick Sr.
This is an absolutely true store with no embellishments
whatsoever. I am going to tell you about one of my top ten
best selling days of my life.
I have written many stories about my life in Wyoming as a
child and young adult, which you can read at
http://yourhometownportal.com/slideshow/stories2.html
I left Wyoming at the age of 24 to live in a city for my
very first time, Denver, Colorado. I lived there for 3 and
1/2 years before coming to Ohio in 1987 where I have been
ever since.
While in Denver, I sold pretty much anything you could
imagine. There were so many people in one place it just
seemed like a dream come true for a salesperson from the
sparsely populated area of Wyoming. While in Denver I
discovered one of the 16 wonders of the world, the flea
market. Wow!!
It started when a friend of mine took me to see this hustle and bussle
of people looking for bargains among a pot pouri of vendors
and merchandise. It was like journeying into the ancient
market place of Constantinople, today’s Istanbul. The
people rushing around and the giddy sounds of bargain
hunters added to the excitement of the sun just rising
above the horizon in the early morning day. Fresh hot
coffee in our hands we walked thru the massive paved ground
with neatly marked white lined and 1000 lettered booth
areas. My friend loved the place because of the bargains
but I saw an entirely different flea market then he did. I
saw vendors sitting in one place while 50,000 people walked
by their booth every weekend.
I had to try this place out as a vendor. And so I did. I
came many times with many different offers or products to
sell. Usually quite different from any of the other
vendors. I thought of this place as cheap market research
since a 10 foot by 10 foot area cost only $10 for the day.
Any crazy idea I had I could set up shop for the weekend
and get feedback from 50,000 people.
After living in Denver 3 and 1/2 years my next and final
move to Ohio became inevitable and I had to say goodbye to
the great modern day marketplace of Constantinople. It was
a sad day for me, but I wanted to take advantage of this
market just one more time.
I did not want to move everything I owned to Ohio, so I
purchased 3 areas side by side at the flea market where my
family and I stacked all the things we could emotionally
part with for a bargain. The 3rd spot was for my 2nd car.
We were only to drive one car to Ohio.
And thus I greeted the early morning dew, the fluid
sunrise, and the rare pre-shopper quiet of the flea market
with hot coffee wafting the aroma that is its best at this
sacred moment of the day. I greeted it with a giddiness
because I had my sales strategy for my car layed out for
the day.
I told my family and my friend that I was going to sell my
1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass Salon with polished white paint,
red velour interior, power seats and windows, knocking
engine, and a gigantic dash in the driver’s side door for
$300.00.
It was probably worth less than $300.00, or maybe just a
bit more than $300.00. It ran but it had a limited time
left.
“No one is going to pay you $300.00 at a flea market for
that pile,” my friend encouraged me. “They are here to find
bargains.” Indeed, I had never seen a car for sale at the
flea market before, but then, that was my schtick, selling
the unusual.
“I will sell this for $300.00,” I announced with a royal
tone, “and people will be begging me to buy it.” My friend
told me I was crazy, but the day was on and so was I.
To prepare for this one day sale, I had thoroughly cleaned
the car inside and out, including the engine and underbody.
I had polished the white clean paint including the bashed
in drivers door. I put the car in it’s own $10 space, and
then layed down carpeting on both sides of the car. I
propped open all the doors and sprayed a cinnamon scent
into the velour seats.
Then I propped up a sales presentation easel I had with a
large white posterboard and marked $1,200.00 on it. My friend
just rolled his eyes.
The day started and the doors opened. A tsunami of people
flooded into the blacktopped hunting grounds and a trickle
started past my booth.
At first the Olds recieved brief glances as people glided
by but I expected little attention in the beginning of the
day. We sold our collected trinkets of Denver life in the
other two selling areas as the day went by but my real fun
was going to be space #3 that held one item. The Olds
Cutlass.
Denver had a large population of hispanic people. I noticed
at the flea market that they always traveled in small
groups. Dealing with them over the years I learned that
many of them really seemed to enjoy older classic cars.
Denver had a lot of “Low Riders” which were mostly Mexican
males that would drive around very slow in a large car that
had been lowered down to within a few inches of the ground.
They would scoot down in the seat to the point that they
could barely look over the dash of the car. They were an
interesting sort.
As the day went by many of these “Low Riders” would come by
and look at the car in groups of 5 or 6, doing a quick
swoop around the car, commenting on how nice and clean it
was, and leaving without ever letting their feet come to a
halt.
And then noon came to the top of the sky. I walked over to
the large white poster board and with my black marker
crossed out the $1,200.00 and wrote $1,125.00. My friend
shook his head and went to get us more coffee. I just
grinned and wiggled my toes in anticipation.
Now, something you need to know for this story is that the
flea market was open from 6 am to 6 pm, 12 hours of
heaven. It was only open on Saturday and Sunday, but in
those 2 days 50,000 people would attend. I was from Wyoming
where the largest city in the entire state was 50,000.
These were 12 hours of adrenalin for me. Today I was going
to divide most of this adrenalin into 30 minute segments.
It was my last day in paradise and I was going to go out
with a bang.
My friend returned with the hot coffee and I sipped, I
tipped back and forth from heel to toe, and I grinned. 30
minutes passed and I walked to the big white board, crossed
out the $1,125.00 and wrote $1,050.00. “Why don’t you just
mark it down to $300.00 so you have the rest of the day to
find a buyer,” my friend advised. “Nope,” I answered.
The Cutlass started to get a few more glances with some
brave souls even stopping to kneel down on the carpet and
look under the car. “Why do people look under the car?” my
friend mutttered.
Another 30 minutes, I changed the board again to $975.00.
My friend crawled in a chair in space #1, leaned back and
closed his eyes.
The time was now 1 PM. I had 5 hours before the flea market
closed its pearly gates to sell this car. I was not
worried.
1:30 PM I changed the sign to $900.00. At this point people
started to stop and ask questions about the Olds. I would
answer and they would probe the car, but usually shake
their head and say it was still too much money. However,
they had considered the $900.00 price. This was what I
wanted.
2:00 PM. Price changes to $825.00. Now friends are starting
to tell friends about my car. More people are stopping.
More are kneeling down on the carpet to look at the exhaust
pipe. I assumed.
2:30 PM. Price changes to $750.00. Purusers are now
crawling into the car and trying it on for size, running
their hands over the dash, feeling the velour seats and
gripping the leather steering wheel. I am getting a lot of
questions at this point and I am really enjoying myself.
“Can you take payments?” I am asked by a person without a
clue. “No, cash only, today only,” I announced.
3:00 PM. The day is starting to run it’s final course, many
vendors are running out of products and closing up for the
day. I mark the price down to $675.00. One person that had
seen the car at $900.00 earlier asked me more questions. He
took a lot of time looking through the car. The “low riders”
swooped by again, never stopping.
Now there are 3 people with their heads under the hood
poking at the engine. “What do they think they are going to
find under there?” my friend jeered. I just grinned at him
because I knew how the day was going to end.
3:30 PM. Mark down to $600.00. Now there is a constant
stream of people sifting around the car and asking
questions. “Can I pay you tommorrow?” I am asked. “No, cash
only, today only,” I again announced. “Can you hold the car
for me while I go get the cash?” “Sorry, no. First person
with the cash gets the car.” I informed.
4:00 PM. Mark down to $525.00 with at least a dozen
onlookers. This seems to jolt many of them into action,
some scurry away and others start walking in circles. My
friend leaves to get some snacks for us. I am drinking in
the moment.
“Does the car run?” I am asked. I turn on the car and let
it idle for a while. One person crawls in and accelerates
the engine, pulls the shifter into drive, then reverse,
then back to park. You can hear a slight knocking sound
coming from the engine, otherwise it sounds smooth. 2
people are looking at the moving parts in the engine,
another is looking at the tail pipe, at least a dozen more
are standing around looking at it.
My friend returns with the snacks. He looks at the crowd of
the newly converted “Cutlass Olds Fans” in disbelief. “Its
just an old car!” he says.
4:30 PM. With a flair I mark down the price to $450.00 in
front of my new audience. “I am going to call my friend to
bring me the cash now!” One man screams as he runs toward
the pay phone.
“Can I test drive it?” A lady asks me. I scratched my head.
“I guess you could drive it up the walk area and back,” I
said as I moved the sign to the side. She crawls in the car
and as the crowd parts to let her drive through, they all
murmur and watch intently as she takes it for a drive up
and down the walk area.
She returns the car and I park it and turn it off.
5:00 PM. I mark the car down to $375.00. The murmur turn to
a roar as the Olds Fans try to bargain with me and their
friends to come up with the cash. Apparently people do not
come to the flea market with $375.00 on them.
“Ha ha, you screwed up buddy!” My friend says. “These poor
losers have never seen a hundred dollars, much less carry
that much cash to a flea market!!” I just looked at him and
said, “Its not 6:00 PM yet!”
Now, across from my booth was a man selling sweat socks.
Yep, sweat socks. He did not have any groupies like I did
with the Olds Cutlass, but apparently he had been quietly
making sales all day. I am sure the extra attention the
Olds had probably helped, but he told me later that he was
there every weekend and did quite well.
I really had not even noticed him all day, he stayed to
himself quietly. But now he walks over to me and says, I
have been watching this circus all day. He holds out cash
in his hand and says, “$300.00, take it or leave it!”
“Sold!” I triumphantly proclaimed as I snatched it from his
hand.
My friend’s jaw dropped to his feet.
——————————————
This story is 100% true. How can it help you as a portal
director? Use it to realize that you do not have to think
like everyone else when it comes to promoting your portal.
Don’t even depend on your best friends for all your
decisions, make them yourself.
Realize that human nature is predictable. I knew this was
the way people would behave at this sale. Was it logical?
No. But it is human nature.
Realize that people want some sizzle with their steak. Give
them a show.
Realize that people are more inclined to purchase if they
are part of a group of people that want to purchase.
Realize that you have potential to understand and influence
human nature. Do it in a positive way of course.
Realize that selling is fun.
Realize that people enjoy buying if the presentation lends
itself to enjoyment.
Written by Timothy L. Drobnick Sr. 5/4/2006. Copyright
2006, all rights reserved. No part of this article can be
reproduced without the expressed written consent of Timothy
L. Drobnick Sr.
![[Post to Twitter]](http://orangeleads.com/blogs/wp-content/plugins/tweet-this/icons/tt-twitter.png)
Tweet This Post
