I love meeting sales reps. Especially if they come to the office believing that they're gonna put one over on the silly blond girl. They talk real fast, cover the conference table with spreadsheets while tossing promotional pamphlets in my direction. They babble on and on about how they're gonna save me tons of money and if I would just sign my name on the X all my problems will go away.
I'm very quiet during this entire performance. Occasionally, I give a half smile, nod my head or let out a cute, bubbling chuckle if what he said was suppose to be funny. I pretend to give the schmuck my undivided attention and carefully make him believe I'm buying every poison word that falls out of his mouth. It's all bullshit. He knows it. I know it. He just doesn't believe that I know it. He also doesn't know I've been studying our account for days. That I made my own spreadsheets, did research on the internet and probably know more about what he's selling than he does. I ask a few simple questions about ways we can save money to which he replies "That way isn't your best bet. You should really go with this plan" Again, bullshit. His idea costs more. He knows it. I know it. He thinks he's got me now. Hook, line and sinker. A minute more and I'll sign on the dotted line. Then, I pull out my favorite weapon. A weapon as old as time itself. A weapon every woman can use if she chooses.
I smiled warmly, turned my chair slightly so I was facing him, reclined just a smidgen, ran my fingers through my hair and then crossed my legs. I didn't pull a Basic Instinct. But, my legs were bare, I had on fabulous Steve Madden heels and a classy deep purple sleeveless dress that stopped just shy of my knees. I'm no Gisele Buchan, but I work with what I got. And it "got" him.
From then on, I managed to not only get some interesting fact about our account that aren't always disclosed. I even got the super secret number that bypasses the horrible 1-800 telaprompt system and would be answered by a real live, flesh and blood human who could (GASP!) actually help me. The bullshit was forgotten as he stared at my legs and I smiled coyly in his direction his fingers flew across the keyboard making all the small changes I wanted. I batted my eyes as I gently turned down his offer for a drink later. What I really wanted to do was shove my wedding ring underneath his nose and say "Are you BLIND? I'm married, you idiot! My husband could out-fuck you any day of the week". Then he asked if I had any sisters who were single. I told him I had a sister who was way too young and was currently going the way of the Kardashian sisters (dating only African American NBA/NFL type guys).
In the end, he declared me a "cool chick". The kinda chick he'd like to hang out with. We bashed the Bruins for awhile, realized we shared a mutual dislike of our bosses and a mutual passion for a good beer and baby back ribs. He told me his life story - recently divorced with two kids, hates his ex wife with the fire reserved for mass murderers and tried dating girls in their 20's for awhile until he realized that he was 45 and shouldn't do that kind of thing.
In the end, I still won. Got anyone you'd like me to break for you? I'm on a roll.