Written by The Scribbler
I’ve decided to spend my evening relaxing a bit. Put the feet up, light a candle or two, and pop in the New Consultant Inventory Talk CD by NSD Dawn Sweeney. I know, I know – to subject myself to such terror of my own free will is scary, but egads, it must be done!T he last track on this CD both delivers and sickens, my friends – it features Sweeney and a brand-new consultant having a lively back-and-forth conversation regarding inventory.
Imagine yourself in the front row of this pink pow-wow, only instead of wearing your Great Value pantyhose (hey, it was a pack of six for three bucks – lay off!) you’re wearing baggy shorts, flip-flops, and a shirt bearing a witty slogan, such as “Don’t Hassel the Hoff.” Count how many times you cringe as you read through this transcription – my comments are in bold:
NSD Sweeney: “Share with me how you feel about inventory.”
New Consultant: “Scary”
“What scares you?”
“The amount? Um…okay. Tell me…For you, what would be a good business decision? Because being comfortable and making a good business decision aren’t necessarily hand in hand. I’ve come to realize that when I have a pit in my stomach, that probably is the direction I need to head in with my business.”
There’s a couple of ways to look at this one. There are times when we may feel a pit in our stomach regarding a life decision, such as that feeling we get when we’re deciding whether or not to move to a new locale or take a certain job. That particular feeling isn’t so much a “pit” as it is a natural fear of change and the unknown.
Unfortunately, I don’t believe that’s what Sweeney is saying. Her advice falls more along the lines of, “I know you’re feeling uncomfortable about this, but whenever you feel icky, that’s the right road!” Herein lies the problem. That uncomfortable feeling may not necessarily be a nudge towards the correct path – it might be a warning meant to avert disaster!
Speaking of disaster, let’s watch this financial train wreck unfold some more:
Sweeney: So, what do you think would be a good business decision for you?”
“A good business decision would be to have a store.”
“If you were going to get a store, how would you want to pay for that?”
“I guess I’ll try to find a credit card.”
Oh boy. This can only end in ruin.
“What is your credit like?”
“Okay. Have you tried to get a loan lately?”
“Do you have a banker that you have a relationship with?”
“That may be the best place to start. Because if someone knows you, that’s the best place to start. If you don’t know someone, I do know someone. Do you want to take advantage of Mother’s Day sales?”
“Wow. Like, we need to get your order in, like, frantically. Like now.”
Like, I don’t know about you, but I’M like, feeling a pit in my stomach, like now! Like, like, like; totally gag me with a spoon, fer-shuuuurrre. You best quit watching VH-1’s “I Love the 80s” and go work your business, girlfriend!
Here’s a thought. If Mary Kay was truly a corporation that cared about its women, wouldn’t it have been a noble move for Sweeney to pull this woman aside and say, “Hon, I’m truly concerned about your financial situation. Inventory purchases, even at their lower levels, are not cheap investments. I cannot sit here and truthfully recommend you go with a full store. What I can recommend is that you shelve Mary Kay until you have had time to repair and rebuild your credit – and even then carefully consider what will be expected of you from your upline each month. This is truly about YOU, ma’am – being debt-free is more important than having a full store.
And then we all woke up – just in time to hear Sweeney’s take on husbands:
“Will your husband be a part of this decision-making process?”
“That’s good. Perfect.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if the “unintelligible” part was something along the lines of “It’s perfect that the burly brute won’t be sticking his manly nose into your Big Girl Business – can you get excited about that?”
This should outrage any decent wife. Here the Mary Kay Way involves bestowing the royal title of “Sir Doltington of Stumbling-Blocke” upon husbands. Never mind that the husband faithfully goes to work and consistently puts up with a co-worker nicknamed, “Taquito Aftermath” so you can not live under an expressway overpass – if he expresses so much as one thought that contradicts Mary Kay, he’s bitmis, as the Turks would put it. Finished.
Now we know why Corporate switched over to the black compacts – they incorporated a delightful new secured compartment in which to keep your husband’s dignity!
Let’s move on:
“What do you think he’s going to think about this situation?”
“Ohhh…I dunno…” (stilted laughter) No….a little nervous about that. Woooow…he’s gonna ask me why I need that much, but I understand that.”
“Your job with your husband is to sell him on it. He doesn’t have to get it. He’s not going to get it until you go to a class and come home with $400 cash. Don’t tell your banker or your husband that you’re scared if you want them to support you in the decision. If your banker says no, I need to send your information to my banker and see if you can get a credit card. Are you excited? I’m excited for you.”
The last soliloquy is simple to summarize:
1. Your husband is a witless worm who can be easily swayed with cash.
2. Fake it until you make it.
3. You are not leaving this room until you’ve placed an Emerald star order, so if you have to tinkle, Red Jacket Seaton’s got a water bottle you can use.
Dear consultants, what good’s selling from a full wagon if the wheels – the credit cards needed to roll that wagon – are broken? Please don’t whip out that flaming Visa just because the star prizes look irresistible or because your upline director wants to drive a pink car – shoot, if she wants to drive a pink car that badly, she can spray-paint my ancient ’76 Impala “Disco Fuscia” and glue a pink feather boa onto the bumper – it’d be cheap, fun, and way more original.
Confucius say, “Keep your credit away from Mary Kay –live to charge another day!”