A story about a bloke called Geordie
I never got to meet Geordie personally but anybody who has ever worked in Sales has heard about him. The man was a living legend – the greatest Salesman this fair country of ours has ever produced. As you might expect, with a name like Geordie, he was born on Tyneside – in North Shields, actually. He left school when he was just fourteen and got his first job as a barrow boy down at Grainger Market – that big indoor market in the centre of Newcastle. Two years later and he’s got his own stall there, selling crockery. You remember those market crockery sellers, don’t you – throwing a full set up in the air and catching every single piece. “I’m not asking ten nicker lady, I’m not asking even five - just two nicker to you love - unless I can get into yours first!” That was the start of Geordie’s amazing rise to fame.
Now you’ve got to remember that back in those days, Tyneside was an industrial powerhouse. Ship building, heavy engineering, coal mines, iron and steel, it had it all. Fed up with selling “china”, Geordie looked around and decided that the ship yards was where he wanted to be, so he applied for a job with a big yard called Swan Hunter as a Sales Executive. His task was to sell ships. And did he sell ships! He was a natural. Oil tankers to the Arabs, battleships to the Royal Navy, ocean liners to the likes of P&O and Cunard, Big ships, small ships – there wasn’t a ship built that Geordie couldn’t sell. The sky was the limit as far as Geordie was concerned.
And then on that fateful day, it happened. The coal mines closed, the ship yards closed, all the engineering went. It was called Recession. As a result, Geordie lost his job and was put on the scrap heap. In fact you could say that overnight he went from Swan Hunter to Job Hunter (groans from the audience). So he went knocking on doors looking for work but there were no jobs to be had on Tyneside – apart from a few seasonal vacancies like selling ice-cream down at Spanish City in Whitley Bay. Hardly becoming for a man with Geordie’s talents. Tyneside was now an industrial waste land. Undeterred, he bought himself a fish supper that night and went home to ponder his future. “I need to find an answer, I need to find an answer!” And after much thinking – he found the answer. (And the answer was, anybody?) The answer was LONDON!! He’d heard all the stories about the glitz and the glamour down there, the razzmatazz, the street’s being paved with gold. So the next day, he packed his suitcase, bought himself a one-way ticket and set off for the bright lights in the hope of finding a better future
Arriving in the Big Smoke, he managed to find some cheap accommodation down the Old Kent Road and the very next morning he’s down at the local Job Centre looking for work. Plenty of jobs for cleaners, bus drivers, bingo hall callers – but no jobs in Sales. On the way back to his gaff, he stops off to buy a copy of the Evening Standard. Pulling his last Stottie out of the bread-bin and filling it with some potted shrimp paste, he opens the newspaper and starts scanning the Jobs section. And then he saw it! Just a two-liner “Sales Assistant required – Harrod's Sports Department. Apply with covering letter” So he did and a few days later he received a reply. “You are kindly invited to attend for interview next Thursday. The interview will be conducted by the store proprietor – Mohamed Al-Fayed”.
So on the appointed day (remember it’s a Thursday) Geordie turns up and is ushered up to the 8th floor where Al-Fayed has his office. “Yes, I see that you have an excellent record in Sales – but you appear to have little knowledge of Sport. And the position on offer is in the Sports Department”. Geordie starts thinking fast. “Mr. Al-Fayed, sir, with all due respect. I hail from the North East. I am a Geordie, sir – and we have produced some of the finest sportsmen this country has ever known. Take footballers - there was the Shack (Len Shackleton), SuperMac (Malcolm Macdonald), Shearer and Beardsley. Rugby Union - Rob Andrew. Cricket – Steve Harmison. Athletics – Brendan Foster and Steve Cram. I knew ‘em all Mr. Al-Fayed – aye, I’ve supped many a pint of Newcastle Brown with those lads. I think my knowledge of sport is second to none!” OK then, I’ll give you a chance, Geordie. Can you start tomorrow? “No problem Mr. Al-Fayed – and I promise, I won’t let you down, Sir!
Bang on nine o’clock next day, Geordie turns up for work. Just before the store closes that evening, Al-Fayed pops down to the Sports Department and goes over to have a word with Geordie. “Had a good day? How many sales today?” Just the one Mr, Al-Fayed. “What? You mean to say that you’ve been here all day and only made one sale?” Well, yes Mr. Al-Fayed – but it was for a hundred and fifty three thousand pounds and ninety nine pence! “What? What on earth did you sell? There’s nothing in the Sports Department that costs that much” It was a fish hook, Mr. Al-Fayed. “A fish hook?” Well, I mean it started off with a fish hook. Let me explain.
So you see this gentleman comes into the Department and I sell him a fish hook for ninety nine pence. And I casually say to him “Be nice if you had a good rod to attach that hook to”. So, Mr Al-Fayed, you know those retractable fibreglass rods with the computer-controlled reel and the automatic fish finder on the end? I sold him one of those. Three grand! “But wait a minute”, I say to the gentleman “You can’t go fishing down your local park pond with a piece of kit like that. No way. Nor would it make any sense going off for a cheap day’s sea angling with a bunch of smelly OAPs. No, trust me, there’s nothing better than setting off in your own boat, go where you like when you like, well-stocked bar, being your own captain. We have a fine selection of boats right here, why not come and take a look”. So he did. “Now, Mr. Al-Fayed, you know those carbon-fibre hulled speedboats with 500 Johnsons at the back end, with the slide back roof and latest ship-to-shore navigational equipment?” I sold him one of them. Sixty grand!
Al-Fayed is gob-smacked. Go on, go on with your story! Right, so we’re coming out of the boat section and I turn round to the gentleman and I ask him “By the way, what sort of car do you drive?” He tells me it’s an Astra. “An Astra? No, no – that won’t do. Not big enough. Not powerful enough to tow that boat you’ve just bought. Now in the basement is our Car Department. Let me take you down there and show you what we have on offer.” I show him a top of the range Amazon Landcruiser with all the bits on which he falls in love with. He buys it there and then”. Ninety grand!
Al-Fayed can’t believe what he’s hearing. Ninety plus sixty plus three = £153.000 !! “Aye, and don’t forget the 99p fish hook, Mr, Al Fayed”. Al-Fayed is almost speechless. “You mean to say a gentleman comes in to my store, into Harrod’s to buy a fish hook for ninety nine pence and he ends up spending over a hundred and fifty grand here?” Well, actually, sir, he didn’t come in to the store to buy a fish hook. No. Let me tell you exactly what happened.
You see the gentleman in question only happened to be passing through the Sports Department, saw me, came over and asked me where he could buy a box of tampons for his girl-friend. I turned round and said to him “You what? You do know what day it is today don’t you? It’s Friday – which means that your weekend has gone right out with the tide down the Tyne! Have you thought about gannin’ fishing instead?”
Dedicated to all great Salesmen past & present
