How I Saved My Job

"Business isn't what it used to be," moaned my boss. It was becoming an annoying refrain. It was pitiable, in a way, to see this once-fierce industry lion reduced to sitting in his office, cigarette in hand, whining.

In many respects, for years we had been spoiled. The Wall Street money, the Internet money, the oil money - we had been part of that, and had enjoyed a long run where our services were so much in demand, we could barely keep up. In fact, our services were still in great demand, the problem was, no one could pay us what we had come to expect. And frankly, the big guy was bored.

"It's not that I mind taking a risk on the future," he said. "We've always been able to cash in on our investments, even if it meant waiting for the next generation of consumers." The boss had smiled when he said that, a quick flashback to the mover and shaker he had once been; a reflection of a business that had weathered much more than an American economic downturn. "We need a new challenge, a place to expand, something that will bring back the thrill of the chase."

And that was how I ended up as Director of New Markets, given the opportunity to either set the world on fire or crash and burn while trying. And no one wanted to crash and burn at this company. No one.

I turned over all my regular accounts - the investors, the politicians, the entrepreneurs with their grand ideas. These were the old reliables, the customers who always managed to eventually meet our terms and prices. Oh sure, there were exceptions - the banker who decided he could go it alone, the politician who was determined to rely on his own resources. In those cases we often ended up supporting their biggest competitors and thereby crushing them.

I realize pretty quickly that after dealing with the deep pocket people for so many years, and following the old 80/20 rule, that 20% of our clients provided us with 80% of our profits, that there was a demographic we were ignoring. And I realized that by aggressively going after that slouching 80%, I could probably expand our business by 20% - a margin no one could compete with in this economic climate.

My boss loved the idea. "Go for it!" he shouted, and then, because he was the master of clichés, he added "paint the town red!"

The first nonprofit organization I visited practically slammed the door in my face. Sure, they were hurting for donations and were cutting back their services but my plan just struck them as too drastic, too much change in too little time. I left my sales packet anyway, knowing that if things got bad enough, and if the current financial atmosphere in the country continued to spiral downward, they would call me.

The second organization took a more pragmatic view. They didn't dismiss my plan, but rather, took the time to discuss their concerns with it. They weren't sure about the legality of making a binding contract on behalf of their staff even when I indicated that the binder would not apply to upper levels of management. I didn't tell them that upper management usually came to me for their own arrangements - that could wait. We parted amicably, they promised to talk to their board and get back to me.

When I walked into organization #3, I had an immediate surge of excitement. The office was in disarray, and everyone on staff had a harried, hunted look on their face. The ringing phone seemed to go unanswered and their waiting room was full of clients were becoming increasingly more impatient.

To her credit, the Director at first refused my request for a meeting. The organization was in survival mode and no matter how great my services were, there just wasn't a penny to spare. They didn't have the money to make money. The organization was teetering on the edge of financial ruin- with an unthinkable end of their services right around the corner.

She responded however, to my assurance that my company would not be expecting any payment from her organization until it was again solvent. She paused when I added that for some, it took a long time for that day to arrive, but we were patient. Very patient. She sighed heavily and asked two questions - would anyone be laid off, and how long for the transition.

I smiled, knowing that the best points of my plan answered both those questions. Not only would no one be laid off, there was a good possibility that additional staff would be needed, and that helping with that hiring process was part of our service. And the transition? It was smooth and painless, taking less than a week. She took a moment to glance around, at her desperate staff, at the photos and posters depicting the deserving people they helped and then, she signed. I promised to return the next day with my orientation staff and training materials.

Back at the office, my boss was smiling his old smile. "Brilliant," he said, shaking his head in true amazement. "You've set a new standard in Sales and discovered an untapped market. Show me the contract again."

I unrolled the scroll on which the contract was written. The director's signature was a bit smeared- blood often did that, but it was clear enough to pass in court. Listed below were the names of all the current staff who would not only keep their jobs, but get raises and other benefits. Below that was the list of donors who would be contributing generously to the cause. All told, the contract represented about 350 souls, not counting future hires and private management arrangements.

Satan passed me a congratulatory cigar, lighting it with a snap of his fingers. The boss was back in town.

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