I Told Ya

45* is a shitty salesman. 

Today, he met with "kids" who're demanding to know what he intends to do to keep them from being slaughtered when they go back to school.

Every good salesman knows, eventually, he'll be called in so the clients can spend an hour or so yelling at him.

They yell about how the thing doesn't work the way they expected it to work.
They yell about how they weren't trained properly to use the thing.
They yell about how the price wasn't anywhere near what they thought it would be.
They yell about how you're too hard to get on the phone.
They yell about how they can't negotiate the phone menu when they call the help line.
They yell.
And they yell.
And they yell.

Well tough shit, cupcake. That's part of the gig. You're gettin' paid, so suck it up and be a man about it.

45* has no fucking clue what he's supposed to do in this perfectly understandable and predictable situation because 45* is a shitty salesman.

And it showed today - again. Try as he might, he was uncomfortable; he was dancing too hard; and it showed.

Here's the thing - ya gotta shut up and listen.

You shit-can the usual script, you shut your flap, and you fucking listen.

This is what you don't do:

You don't have your staff jot down a few notes to help you act like you have any clue about what people are going thru, and to pretend you give one empty fuck about what's happened to them.

Fuck this guy. Federal prison and hard labor is an extended vacation at Sandals compared with what should happen to this ass hat.