The National Sales Meeting

By John Joyce

It's 9:10 Tuesday morning, and I'm sitting in a hotel room at Harrison Hot Springs, 150km from Vancouver, Canada, attending another sales training meeting — an international one. In front of me I have a binder with the name Angela Electronics on it and a USB stick with all the Power Point presentations. There is also a glass of water, my plastic room key, a small note pad and a pen advertising the hotel.

The locations of these meetings changes, but the rooms and the carpets remain the same. Last year we met in Las Vegas, and the wife joined me at that Taj-Mahal-style hotel which had one of those humongous, clean bathrooms and three swimming pools (I used to nip out for a quick swim before lunch). This hotel has only one pool, whose temperature is marginal but at least it keeps honeymooners from fawning in the shallow end.

Heinz from Germany has still not arrived. He was last heard from at the Saskatoon airport, where he was stuck. Mario from Italy left after the first morning, citing pressing business affairs, but the salesman from England said it was more a case of "trouble and strife" with Mario's lady friend.

"If you look at the graph up there, you will see this new product will provide us a step up on the competition," the speaker said.

Well, at least I can understand the product manager. Yesterday Nick Sopehicherqrich, the Software Guru, as we refer to him, mumbled on for 67.23 minutes about an operating system that is the engine behind the new GUI (as he referred to it) and its interoperability with future products. What?! Nick S. is a great chess player who beat three of us last night before dinner.

Luckily, I am sitting next to Ben from Winnipeg, who explained to me that GUI stands for Graphical User Interface. Ben spends all his time scrolling down his cell phone and working on his notebook computer. How does he ever sell anything?

"Can you all hear me at the back? Would it help if we turned down the lights?"

Well, not if you don't want us to sleep! The boys from Washington are already nodding off. They were probably drinking most of the night.

I, however, went to bed early and got up for a brisk walk around the golf course. I avoided that dictator who yesterday ordered me off the links because the club doesn't carry insurance for walkers. What?! I bet he wouldn't do that to a Sasquatch. I am sure I saw some large footprints near one of the ponds. I'll outrun his cart if I see him tomorrow.

Now Karen from Montreal is asking a question.

I often think of sales meetings as rather biblical. There are the hints and rumours from the prophets in the company as to when and where it will occur. Everyone hopes it won't conflict with vacation plans, athletic races or a family commitment. The annunciation happens via an e-mail, and then there is the journey, finding accommodation, getting along with the wise men and arriving home safely without being fired by one of Herod's vice presidents (the flight out of Egypt).

Yesterday we were greeted by the Vice President of Marketing, J. Paul Spaford.

"I would like to welcome you all to the Angela Electronics sales meeting." Slight rubbing of hands. "We have several new exciting products that we are introducing that I am sure you will agree will make a difference to our position in the market place." More rubbing of hands.

J. Paul Spaford has the voice and body language of a vice president and craftily sits near Matt Dunway, the vice president of sales, since J. Paul Spaford has little idea any more what the company makes. He does know the prop speed of his boat and the best mooring locations on Harrison Lake.