It was two months into my first job as a copy salesman that I finally made my first sale. Every day, I’d hop into my brown 1984 Chevy Citation and drive to an industrial park in Edmonton, Alberta. I’d take my pamphlets that I had prepared the night before and start walking into offices. “Hi! I’m Colin. How do you like your copier? How about your fax machine?” I did this 20 times a day for two straight months — and not one bite.
And since I was working on 100% commission, those two months really, really sucked. I hated every single call I made. I hated my 40-minute commute. I hated stuffing pamphlets into stupid folders. I hated Chevy for making the Citation.
Finally, I landed my very first sale. It was for a $3,000 black-and-white table top copier (model 5614, to be exact). I walked out of the store and I felt like a champ. Better than that. I felt like a winner.