Blunt Retail Sales. Start Here!

A big hi to all you guys and girls out there in retail stores worldwide.

I want to make this the kind of resource I would have loved to have had access to, back when I was in retail.

Although this is for anyone working in retail, I dedicate this mainly for those of you of the same age I was (15 to 21), when I began the greatest adventure of my career.

Can you younger people reading this, even imagine a time when the internet didn’t exist?

And would you believe me when I tell you, that your PC server slotted nicely under your desk there, used to fill a room the size of your bedroom, and needed to be kept air conditioned at all times?

These are figures from utter lying bastards (governments) remember, and includes the wealthy, so what age will the majority really need to work till?

Trust me kids, your all being fattened up for the kill by some seriously ruthless bastards, that don’t give a fuck if you get depressed and slit your wrists one day, just so long as you use a shit ton of Head and Shoulders along the way, and a Gillette Mach 3 Turbo blade, to get the wrist job done!

The banking and finance industry’s plan to crucify you with debt.

You’ll have a lovely home, furniture, clothes, jewellery, run 2 cars, and have 2 holidays a year.

And you won’t ‘own’ a single god damned thing!

How the fuck did Great Britain, or for that matter any world superpower, ever manage to create enough architects, engineers, scientists, musicians, artists, doctors, lawyers, accountants, dentists, politicians, vets, farmers and so on, prior to the advent of student debt?

Think about that for a moment.

It was only when some clever sales and marketing person, working for a big financial institution, persuaded his boss that people were fucking dumb enough to swallow it, that the idea was slowly introduced.

‘Softly softly, catch a monkey’

And at first, a small loan to help cover the cost of some expensive textbooks and other materials seemed like a great idea, especially for students without well-heeled parents.

So who’s carrying the bulk of the debt?

Those same working class, or underfunded middle-class students, upon arriving at a university today, will be quickly introduced to the Uni’s ‘Student Sports Society’ and pitched 2 weeks in the French Alps snowboarding, with all the trendy boys and girls next winter.

Who wants to be ‘Billy No Mates’, or outside the loop when you’re young?

But in the real world, this kid nor his parents could ever afford trendy 2-week winter holidays or international travel in the summer. But fear not, for this kid has a student loan with a 2 grand overdraft, kindly provided by his caring bank.

I say caring because these arseholes actually provide budgeting advice, and the university provides similar lessons to boot.

But are you seriously suggesting that a 20 yr. old, when all her friends are getting dolled up in designer gear for a night out in a posh nightclub, is going to have the discipline to remember any ‘budgeting advice’?

Some things are meant to go together, like Strawberries and Cream.

But Education and Debt!

Fuck that! How did they ever come together, if not by design?

Bullshit!

I thought education, especially higher education, was supposed to liberate you from having to deal with the mundane problems of mediocrity, give you a head start, a leg up, make you more socially responsible, and supposedly, smarter.

Ok, so if you’re major definite purpose in life is designing skyscrapers, performing breast augmentation, or defending murderers in court, then for sure, best get your arse into a university.

But for those of you reading this with a degree in home economics or art, wondering how the fuck you ended up working in a store, boy do you need my help!

What, hold on!

You thought you’d be Sir Richard Branson’s right-hand man with a degree in media studies, did you?

If you do have a degree, in say, business studies, and found it impossible to find work using it, thus deciding out of necessity to join the great unwashed in a retail store somewhere, then I have a message for you.

‘Welcome to the very industry that bent you over, dry fucked you, and left you in debt’

Sales!

Now’s your chance to learn from a master, how to turn this seemingly disastrous situation, into a triumph.

Education, as is religion, medicine, and any other industry, (even running a charity), is a fucking business!

And all businesses run for profit!

I won’t ask the kids without qualifications reading this, but since you’ve got a degree, perhaps even in business studies, you tell me;

If you ran a business, would you want more or fewer customers?

Would you want to make more money or less?

And whilst I’m sure you have impeccable ethics, would you let’s say, sugar coat whatever you were selling, and at the very least, conveniently fail to mention the downsides to your product or service?

I’m not sure of the stats elsewhere, but more than 50% of American graduates are working in jobs they are hugely overqualified for. Bartending, waitressing, and store work to name but three.

I believe a law was passed in the states, whereby a student loan can never be written off in a bankruptcy court, which is fucking shocking, so the debt remains like a ball and chain forever.

Suicide rates are up by a third for graduates!

So if you want to sell more of something, you usually have to look for ways of taking it to a broader market, and in the case of higher education it means having to dream up some piss easy courses (media or business studies, human resources, or art etc.), dumbing down the overall standards (happening all over the world), and finding a way to allow people who couldn’t normally enjoy the product (stupid, poor, or downs syndrome people), to climb aboard.

Hey presto; you now have 1.3 trillion dollars of student debt in the US alone, which is brilliant if you’re in banking, debt crisis, or the Samaritans, and you have a far broader client base from retard worthy degree courses if you happen to run a university!

If Governments really gave a fuck about young people and education standards, then students who merited a degree in a subject that will later significantly contribute to humanity and pay a shit load of taxes, wouldn’t need to pay a penny for tuition, and your government would pick up the tab.

But they don’t care, and they know full well that half of you will never get to use the degree you received in the workplace.

God forbid, some of you may even decide to have babies which you actually give priority to (and rightly so), over a poxy career!

You ‘Non-Graduates’ reading this, are probably confused as to why I appear to be bashing your super smart colleagues, so please allow me to explain myself.

I love all retail people, even Christians, Vegetarians and Graduates!

Well, I kinda love them three like ginger step kids, but let’s keep that just between us!

But please understand, that for me to bring out your full potential, I need you all to be proud of what you’re doing for a living.

I need you to see a future in it.

I need you to understand the massive value that a few years working with the general public, and with a trainer like me, can give you for whatever career you end up in, and wherever you may find yourself down the road.

And this isn’t made any easier if you ‘Non Graduates’ are listening to ‘Graduates’ wax on about how their job in your store is just a temporary situation.

About how working in your store is only slightly more attractive than being unemployed, watching daytime TV, or contracting Ebola!

Or telling you about how they’re sending out 20 CV’s a week, and it’s only a matter of time before Bill Gates reads one.

Do you get me?

I worked with lots of these types in retail, especially in Harrods, where even though the money was great and the perks were amazing, they still made it abundantly clear to anyone who would listen, that the idea of working in retail was somehow beneath them.

And I get that it’s not what their parents had in mind when they sent them off to university, or when they received the hilarious ‘windowsill graduation photograph’ of their kid in the silly hat, Batman cape, and holding the Sacred Scroll of Knowledge, and Unlimited Illuminati Power!

I typed in Google; ‘Downs Syndrome receives degree’ and I swear this came up. So this is down to Google for any James Blunt fans!

But fuck that too, because so many kids are terribly unhappy in higher education, following some parents unfulfilled dream, or their exact footsteps, in a particular trade which the kid may be totally unsuited to.

18 yr. old Mickey Deputy, on the road to Miss America. “It’s about time a girl with Down syndrome wins,” Deputy told USA Today.

Am I the only one ‘not’ holding his breath for that to happen?

So anyone these days can get a degree, and in the case of the above lad ‘Ezra’, he chose Art, since it offered more challenge than Media Studies or Human Resources!

But I can’t have this lot in your store playing their ‘superior card’ with, or looking down on you.

More importantly, I can’t have you thinking they’re the ones with all the options, and you’re the poor sod who drew the short straw, or are destined for a life of mediocrity, stuck in this bloody store!

Yes, their smarter than you. Academically!

But in the grand scheme of things, this won’t count for much, plus, if their thinking the world owes them a living because of it, then that handicap alone may well render it worth fuck all.

Yes, in the process of spending 4 to 6 years at university, attending many lectures with eloquent speakers, reading a few books, and writing a few reports of their own, they may have developed a slightly more elevated vocabulary than you have, which can leave you feeling a bit like ‘Ruprecht the Monkey Boy’ below.

Ruprecht eats his applesauce, with his special fork!

But you’ll soon discover that learning some fancy words, how to stick your chest out, or stand like you’ve got a broomstick up your arse, may come in handy in an officer’s military academy, but it’s not how 95% of the population speak or stand.

And ‘People like People, like Themselves’ especially when they’re buying something from them.

In my late teens, I fell into the trap of thinking I didn’t speak well enough or ‘posh’ enough. Sometimes referred to as ‘The Queens English’, or BBC English.

Back in the day, anyone reading the news on TV or radio all spoke BBC English, and of course, the Queen is awfully well spoken, don’t you know!

So growing up in a rough part of South London, I thought the step up to Harrods for example, would be impossible.

But when I got there, the guy who recruited me explained that only 5% of the population speak with a plumb in their mouths, and whilst Harrods had more than its fair share of those customers, the overwhelming majority spoke with some regional or local accent, or were overseas visitors who would love me just the way I was.

Brixton had well prepared me for working with Nigerians and Africans for example, where the better-educated salespeople in Harrods, hadn’t a clue what the fuck they were saying.

Nowadays you have regional newsreaders, so if you’re from Birmingham in England or Texas USA, you’ll get your news in a familiar voice.

This sham superiority is simply an illusion that higher education has to create to keep sales up!

As is learning everything in a useless ancient language (Latin), so you can converse with other clever folks, while us retards stand in awe of your perceived genius.

‘Cuntius Maximus’

Because you understand, if it’s perceived, then it’s as good as real.

But you dear reader, get to choose how you perceive anything, through your own education, or lack of it, or through your friendship with me.

At around the time I was working in Harrods, my first true love (Debbie), was working for Nat West Bank, 4 doors down from my old store, in Brixton, South London.

She’d been there since leaving school and could work a regular till, the foreign counter, assist the manager, work the back office, you name it.

She had to train Graduates as part of her job since she was that well rounded. But get this;

These were guys, around her age, but on more money, and as thick as shit!

And Deb would never speak ill of someone unless it was true.

They possessed no common sense or real-world skills to mention, but because they wielded the ‘Scroll of Unlimited Illuminati Power’ they were afforded unwarranted kudos.

Thankfully those days are over, however its worth pointing out that those ‘morons’ were being fast-tracked into the banking management hierarchy, which speaks volumes for the financial mess and devastation caused by the finance industry in recent times!

OK, so your store job isn’t rocket science, but when you were showing the new trainees (graduates) Tarquin or Cressilda how to work the till, or to make a decent cup of tea, how much help did your genius trainees need?

Yeah, the same as anyone else, or more, right?

And when you sent them down to the dry cleaners for ‘A Bucket of Steam’ (to get the creases out of the clothes), or to the Ironmongers for ‘A Long Weight’, they went, didn’t they?

And did your mate phone up from the Ironmongers, and ask; ‘how long do you want me to keep this mug waiting?’

And your buddy from the dry cleaners handed him or her a bucket with a piece of cardboard covering it, with the instructions not to move the cardboard, or they’ll let all the steam escape!

And when they got back to your store, and the steam had evidently ‘escaped’, they apologetically asked if they should go back to the dry cleaners for another try, yes?

And how many times did you send them back?

I’ve had guys the same age as a graduate, but fresh from the Street, Army or Prison, tell me to fuck off when I tried that old retail joke on them!

These graduates are just grown up schoolkids, and when you understand you already have two words for their long or Latin one, but that your two words can be understood by most of the English speaking planet, you start to see through the façade of higher education, like a pane of glass.

“Oh yes, he was the first downs syndrome boy to get his Arts degree ‘Magna Cum Laude’, which means; With Great Honour” (so why not just fucking say ‘With Great Honour’ then?)

So you be sure to put them in their place my young Padawan, should any of them get ‘superior’ or ‘aloof’, or as we had in Harrods, one graduate who felt it beneath him to take his turn to make the tea!

“I didn’t spend 5 years at University to make you lot tea” He stated. So someone else (deliberately), always bowed to his superior status and made the tea.

His tea, of course, got what we called ‘The Twinings Royal Treatment’, which is where the sublime blend of the worlds leading tea maker, is expertly blended with a dip of everyone’s cock, expertly stirred with a lady’s finger, fresh from her chosen orifice!

This guy I’m talking about, was the manager of ‘Raynes’ (By appointment to her majesty the Queen), shoe and bag concession, on the second floor of Harrods.

I’d served Lady Diana a few days earlier, who seemed happy enough to slum it with me since it was his day off, and the other senior salesmen were off ‘delivering purchases’ to Arab customers in various hotels.

Which basically means getting fucked in the arse for extra commission!

Not something I had to contemplate since I speak no Arabic, and only possess an ‘exit’ hole.

Still, don’t be surprised, it was an entire floor dedicated to selling handbags and ladies shoes, so I was one of only 3 straight guys.

Anyway, this particular Saturday, after almost a year in the store, my Manager decides to let me in on a little secret.

“Saturdays,” he tells me; “is Peasants Day!”

“What the fuck’s that?” I asked;

“It’s the day when the working class housewives have their day off and come to visit Harrods just to waste our time and go home with a Harrods carrier bag, after spending a pound in the food hall” he explained.

Not five minutes after those words left his snobby mouth, who should walk onto the shop floor, but my Mum!

Now unbeknownst to this prick, my Mum had spent a few bob in Harrods over the year, since my 25% staff discount also counted towards sale items, which was fantastic.

She’d bought a Zanussi washer dryer (a super luxury for us), and various other white kitchen goods and appliances, in the January sales. So with 50% off anyhow, plus my 25% it was fucking gravy!

So Mum had popped in to see her firstborn Son, all dressed smart, working in the most prestigious store on the planet, and before she’d come upstairs to see me, she’d bought me a sandwich in the food hall, which she had in a beautiful green Harrods bag!

Well, after having the pleasantries with my Mum and kissing her goodbye, something you should never be ashamed of at any age (my lad still kisses me goodbye in public at 23), and being sure she was safely down the escalator and off the premises, I punched that cunt so hard in the face, he must have flown ten foot into a shoe display, which he proceeded to decorate with copious amounts of upper-class nasal claret.

The assistant manager sacked me on the spot.

He smiled as he handed me my bag and coat, and said my wages for the week would be sent by cheque.

I went for a shit first, as you do, but in the customer’s toilets, which the staff weren’t allowed to use, then strolled casually out the front door, again a no-no for the staff, who have their own entrance across the road, and have to use a tunnel to access or leave the store.

Turns out the assistant manager also hated the manager prick, along with everyone else on the floor it seemed, and had left me a parting gift of a £600 (in 1979!) designer handbag, secreted in my own bag, which I presented to Debbie that night, as I explained my unemployment.

Fucking Peasants day!

I’ve probably spent near half a million quid in that store over the years, and often wonder what happened to that snobby bastard, and how well he did for himself.

What a beautiful place to work. Or as I called it; The Office!

I was sorry to go, but quite frankly it felt so right at the time, so I never questioned it, and since references would have come into question had I applied for work anywhere else in the retail sector, I thought I’d try another branch of sales.

So yeah, I have a bug up my arse about educated idiots, who look down their noses at the retail sales profession as if it’s the shit on their shoes, even when, as in my manager’s case, it provides them with food on the table, friendship, and a lot of fun.

I’m telling you to watch out for these ‘Dream Stealers’, who I don’t think set out to demean you, unqualified guys and girls, but in bigging themselves up so much, and forever publicly stating how the world owes them more than their getting, then some people, not necessarily you, may draw a correlation between academic qualifications and happiness, success, and financial prosperity.

Nothing wrong with correlation you understand, but when its confused with ‘causation’ it becomes very dangerous.

You could draw a correlation between fires and firefighters for example. Because at the scene of every major fire you attend, there are always fire engines and tons of firefighters.

That’s correlation.

But to suggest that because the firefighters are present at every fire, it must mean they’re starting the fires (causation), is absurd.

But this is exactly what people do every day, with things such as higher education.

Now if you ‘SOLD’ higher education for a living, wouldn’t you want people to make that connection?

So for example, you might draw a correlation between doctors, lawyers and engineers, and great wealth, but then let someone’s imagination run riot, and conclude that everyone who’s wealthy must be well educated, and vice versa.

And being that your selling that idea, you’d hardly be likely to correct that person by pointing out the millions of mega happy, wealthy, and successful people worldwide, that didn’t get past high school, as well as the hordes of people qualified in the above professions, who end up on the scrap heap.

Thomas Edison himself was homeschooled from around 9, and is credited as Americas greatest ever inventor with over a thousand patents to his name.

Do you think many university’s point out to its undergraduates, that the man credited with the light bulb, the camera and movies, never put a foot in one of their establishments?

I doubt its often mentioned, what do you think?

You are equally, if not more likely to enjoy blissful happiness, radiant health, and great wealth, than anyone you’ve ever met with a degree, or a PhD in anything.

Health, Enthusiasm, Charisma, Persistence, Belief, Honesty, Integrity, Sincerity, Courage and Humour!

Those ten qualities or attributes will take you further in life than all of Stephen Hawkins’ degrees, and brain cells combined, and certainly quicker than in his chair!.

And I can coach you on all ten attributes, something no university course ever approaches, nor comes near to doing.

Even a top lawyer may only possess one or two qualities from that list, Charisma and humour maybe, and in the main are dull, unhealthy, insincere, dishonest, cowardly people.

Most doctors you’ll discover (when you know what I know about medicine),  hardly tick one box!

Most of the saddest, morose, dysfunctional, and perverted motherfuckers I’ve known, have been from well-heeled, and highly educated backgrounds.

And most (not all), of the well balanced, down to earth, sincerely happy and healthy people I’ve known, are from places just like you and me.

We, my friend, are in the vast majority, we are the real people, we make things happen in this world, and the educated ones are merely the middlemen, acting for the super elite who run the planet.

Middlemen who take huge bites of the pie, for often offering little or no service to the human race I might add, a bit like clever parasites that need us for survival, and are just smart enough not to kill their hosts.

Think about this:

The medical profession needs us, doesn’t it?

But it needs us sick and weak, and head doctors want you fucked up and dysfunctional!

The legal profession needs us, doesn’t it?

But it needs us in trouble with the law, or hurting through a messy divorce!

The prison system and the police need you re-offending, and never getting to the root of your problems.

Social workers and so-called care workers need you abusing your children.

The scumbag insolvency practitioners need us to be bankrupt and at our lowest ebb.

The financial industry needs you always exceeding your means, and strapped with debt.

The media needs you gullible, unquestioning and trusting, as does the political and religious machines.

The armed forces need you to pay their wages but have to keep you in fear of your life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to do so.

And don’t get me properly started on religion!

I long for the day when you and I (the taxpayers), get the vote on who’s tax-exempt, and who’s not.

How much ‘less tax’ would you need to pay over your lifetime, if these moron’s, (who believe in a man in the clouds remember), had to pay corporation tax on their trillions!

All the above professions are a fucking sham, along with dozens more.

You could keep the Engineers, Architects and Builders, Naturopathic doctors, Artists and Musicians, and any other profession that brings true wonder, joy, health, and beauty into the world, and shoot the fucking rest!

Life would continue after a brief adjustment, and the world would be a better place.

So forgive your Mum and Dad for thinking the medical or legal profession may have been a better path for you to tread, than working in a quick stop!

Forgive them, because they bought into the higher education bullshit someone sold to them, hook line and sinker.

Many of your parents have 30 to 50 years invested in this bollocks, and to pull away from it now, is more than most egos can bare.

No, sometimes, as any true lady will attest to, it’s just gone on a wee bit too long, and it’s better to pretend it’s always been in the right hole from the get-go, keep on smiling, and think of England.

Even though there’s a whiff of shit in the air!

So yes, I’m happy to train you for free, with as much as I dare to give away, which is certainly enough for you all to be fantastic in your retail careers and become very successful.

If you can prove to me your who you say you are and do in fact work in retail, I’ll even give you some free one on one coaching, that I’d charge the fuck out of any lawyer for.

But I’ll be damned if I’ll give away priceless information to some ponce who thinks he or she’s above the people they work alongside, or people they class as friends, so they can use my material to be a better parasite elsewhere in society, higher up the food chain.

Don’t worry, the higher they climb, the more we’ll see of their arses!

So I need you non-graduates reading this to straighten them out.

Their good people remember, their just disillusioned after investing 4 to 6 years of their lives on a wet dream, about running your country in a Batman cape after graduation.

They’ll get over it with our help, but if they persist and won’t snap out of the daydream, or you get the slightest hint of them playing the superior card, they need a slap. Metaphorically speaking.

How to give ‘Captain Clever’ or ‘Wonder Wisdom’ a slap!

Did you ever have a friend you’d play with, who got so buried in the role-play, they carried on long after the game was over?

I’m not sure if I should be admitting to this, but in my early years, I was called ‘Spidey’ (Spiderman) at school, and only answered to ‘Pele’, on the football field.

What you guys today call ‘Parkour’ or ‘Free Running’, is actually as old as the hills, as any kid growing up on a council estate in the 60’s and 70’s will tell you.

Any swing park was a training ground to hone your skills (or lose a testicle as my Brother did), and the local concrete jungles were where you applied your skills, by evading capture from pursuing park keepers, council workers, caretakers, builders, policemen and their dogs, as well as local residents, whose gardens or walls you would be invading.

Back then, anyone catching you was more than in their rights to give you a good slap, or worse, then frog marches you home to another good arse slapping from your Dad.

Though bizarrely, all my West Indian mates got it off their Mum’s, which at first I thought was an easy touch, till I witnessed my mate George taking his ‘licks’, as he would call them.

So getting caught fucking around was serious business.

Football was the only other main distraction, but in spite of living 100 yards from a lovely park, even most of that was played in the streets.

Later on, I would even become the reincarnation of Bruce Lee for a while!

I know!

But we had a lot of time on our hands, plus taking selfies is way more pathetic than that!

Well anyhow, back to burying yourself in a role, and we had this kid called John who lived down the street. Not part of our click, but he used the same park, so we’d occasionally let him hang with us. We were around 10 to 12 by the way.

John was OK, but he liked role-playing being a policeman, which was fine by us, since we spent most of our time running from them anyhow, through various exits to Norwood Park, and the nearby concrete estates and alleyways that adjoined it.

So none of us wanted to be coppers.

Long story short, John fell, headfirst, off a slide one day!

Usual story and every school has its; ‘Metal plate in the Head Kid’, and John was never the same again, poor sod.

Now, spin on ten years, and me and my crew are all around 19/21. Jobs, girlfriends, motorbikes and cars etc.

Guess who’s still patrolling the park dressed as a copper, with a hat, torch, and plastic handcuffs?

Oh yeah, and sporting the mental age of 8!

Which is ironically, the required cerebral age to be a Park Keeper or Special Constable I’m told!

So he became known as; ‘John the Mong’

Now, if you have an educated type in your store, who thinks you can use his shit for toothpaste and is destined for far greater things than mere store work, can you please start calling him; ‘John the Mong’ (or Jane)

Cheers.

Because you need to make light of it, and they need a fucking reality check. Get them to read the above for example.

Great, so here we are, and you’re a retail sales assistant.

How you got here, and the size of your store matters not.

I’m going to teach you, among many other things, how to be the manager of that little store real soon, or if needs be, to find work in the biggest store in your town, and then become the manager of that.

If your city has anything like a Harrods, and you fancy being the top guy or gal there, then so be it.

As much as I love retail, I’m not sure if I really had a total passion for it, given how abruptly I left, but if you find you do adore it, then running a huge prestigious store, or being the Area, Regional, or National Sales Manager, may be on the cards for you by the time your 30.

And if you feel you want to spread your wings and move towards the pointy end of sales, where the bigger money is after all, then I’ll be there for you on your journey into Direct Sales, and perhaps onto Entrepreneurialism.

Fuck that’s a long word, and I spelt it without hesitation, so there’s hope for you all. Especially if you knew where I was raised! Haha.

We’ll get to some clever techniques, and tricks of the trade real soon, I promise, and I can’t stop you leaping after that information anyway.

It’s there for you, but for it to give you maximum impact, you have to realize that it represents the fancy curtains if you will, of what I call your ‘Mind Mansion’.

More important of course, are the foundations, followed by the structure itself, and that needs a watertight roof on it, and all the plumbing and electricals are taken care of before we hang the curtains. Are you with me?

So there are some things you need to know about life, health, your mind, and how champion performers think and feel before you can make the most of any opportunity, and worry about curtains.

And you also need to know a little about the history of the profession of selling and start to take more and more pride in the choices you’ve made for yourself.

Steve tells me most young people commute to work these days and use the time to read stuff on their phones, or listen to music. Maybe I could be your ‘Travel Trainer’

That’s me in the middle there! Blunt Coach

I always used my cars as a mobile classroom, I never listened to music, and thought instead to make myself richer from the travel time, than I did Michael Jackson!

Showing my age again, but can you see how, if every time you got in a car, on a train or bus, and then when you got out, you’d learnt one little thing you didn’t know before the journey started, then how much smarter than your competition, could you be in six months?

What about six years?

I’ve been using this tip for 35 years!

The only car I never did this in, was my Ferrari F430.

Take a close look at the small print on the number plate! (Who Dares Sells)

That car was all about the sound, and I arrived as pumped as fuck to wherever I was speaking, because as well as the noise, I had a rule that every time I drove it, I had to hit 150 MPH somewhere on my journey!

The Bentley was a different animal, good for 200 MPH, and I could still hear my training Cd’s.

There’ll still be time for PooTube, ‘Monkey Rapes Frog’ and seeing what your saddest of friends ate for breakfast, but something has got to give for you to get this information down your necks.

You decide of course, but using your daily commute makes sense to me since much of what you’ll learn can be tried out as soon as you open those shop doors.

Watching, listening, or reading my work while you’re in your store, other than on your lunch or tea break, is a no-no.

The attitude of; ‘doing things on someone else’s time’ is one I need you to see as negative, even if it’s putting more money in your boss’ till, and it may not make much sense at first.

But when I was your age, even now come to think of it, I always saw my time as being more valuable than anyone else’s, particularly my Jew slave owners!

Just joking, but they were Jews that owned the firm, and I did work fucking hard, and in shit conditions from time to time. All the ‘Rights’ you lot have today, were non-existent in 1975.

So trust me, your subconscious mind will pay far more attention to anything you study on ‘Your Own Time’ than ‘Someone Else’s Time’

Why?

Because if you perceive that time to be the more important, then your mind will attach more importance to anything you learn in it!

You’ll learn quicker, memorize better, and be more likely to implement the training, the more your mind perceives you’ve invested in it.

The ‘Employee’ mentality, is ultimately exactly what will keep you an ‘Employee’ forever!

Taking 3 weeks off sick each year because you’re entitled to it, even when you’re not sick, is retarded.

Did I do it?

Absolutely!

And boy did I think I was a clever Trevor, getting one over on those Jew boys.

Except, you have to realize that your company’s owners are not as dumb as you’d like to think, and have factored for all the staff taking their full sick pay, maternity, paternity, and repetitive strain injury, and any other excuses for taking time off.

They’ve also factored for all the stationary, coat hangers, cleaning fluids and possibly stock, that finds its way out the back door each year.

They’ve even factored for you all using their ‘free’ electricity, to charge your mobile devices, and for you using your unlimited staff discount, for every member of your family and friends.

Seriously you ask. How could they factor for all that piss taking?

‘In the form of shit wages’, that’s how!

Because clever little idiots like me didn’t need 10,000 post-it notes, 3 staple guns, two dozen biros and 50 wooden coat hangers. Older staff members were known to pinch coffee and toilet rolls!

I didn’t need to get my Mum to phone in sick for me, so I could ride to Brighton with my buddies for the day and get paid for it.

I didn’t need to arrange all the full-size mannequins in a stock room, and smash the shit out of them with kicks, punches and nunchucks, a la ‘Enter the Dragon’ style!

Nor did I need to steal a lifelike black one, name him Leroy, and sit him in the back seat of my car, as a brilliant and permanent anti-theft device.

Time spent shooting enormous fat people crossing Brixton High Street, in the arse, from a third-floor window with my near silent Crossman pneumatic air rifle, might have been better spent on the shop floor!

And I definitely didn’t need to turn up 15 minutes late and leave 15 minutes early every day, thinking I was robbing the Jews out of 10 hours a month, which they were paying me for.

That attitude, which I call the ‘Employee Mindset’, delayed me from becoming a millionaire for at least 10 years, until I dropped it!

You can drop the attitude tomorrow!

Millionaires don’t have employee attitudes or work ethics, even when they work for someone else!

Millionaire (real or make belief) store owners, arrive 30 minutes early and leave 30 minutes after the bell rings.

Millionaires buy their own photocopy paper, dry marker pens, and staple guns.

Millionaires would never let the common cold or a hangover, get in the way of a day’s productivity.

And they do all this, and tons more, before they become millionaires, NOT AFTER!

If you’re going to wait to be rich before you stop being a lazy little shit, I’ve got news for you;

You’re never going to be wealthy, but you will have a well-stocked stationary cabinet (wardrobe), and lots of stories to tell about how you missed all the breaks throughout your career!

If you work in a huge store (Harrods, Macey’s etc.) under a 40 yr. old Manager, and you know for a fact he’s earning bundles, then this may not apply, but if that same 40 yr. old is managing you in a bog standard, 2-floor affair, or small concession in a Mall, then you’re observing someone who never broke out of an employee mentality.

Never be impressed by any 40 yr. old earning less than a Bank Manager for fuck sake, and with the responsibilities that any 25-year-old can handle.

My first store manager, who I took over from aged 20, was 55, unmarried, and lived with his mother!

The reason that poor fucker in your store earns the same as a 7/11 manager, is that no one ever explained what ambition really is to them!

Think about it, which comes first; the ‘Ambition’ or the great job or success?

“Do the thing and you shall have Power, but they who do not the thing, have not the power”

said the great philosopher and poet, Ralph Waldo Emerson.

In today’s lingo, and to use Ben Affleck’s lines from the Boiler Room movie;

Act as If!

“Act as if you’re the President of the company”

“Act as if you have a 9-inch cock”

OK, so their smart arse lines from a movie. So what, you’re thinking!

How about this then;

Did you ever hear or know of someone, who was always terrible and irresponsible with money as a kid?

Then, when they got a job, they were still always borrowing.

Even when they got a great job, they were still always behind on the rent, loaning and moaning.

And when they became rich, they lost the lot.

If you don’t know someone personally, ask your parents, they’ll know someone just like that.

If your shit with money right now, and I double your salary tomorrow, guess what?

Even if I tripled your income, you’d still be shit with money.

Bollocks! I hear you say.

You think, that if you tripled your income, all your worries would disappear. It’s a no-brainer you say.

I’ve seen people with my own eyes, piss away 4 grand a month.

Then, when they earnt 10 grand and got paid on a Friday, they were asking for a sub by Tuesday.

When they were earning 20 and 30 thousand pounds a month, they just had bigger appetites for more useless shit.

More whores wrapped around them, more hangers-on, and where they may have put £50 on a horse a few years ago, they’d now put £500 on it.

Where they may have once bought a simple round of drinks, now it was buckets of Cristal!

If they used to spend £100 on a set of earrings, and £100 on a good pair of shoes, now their buying Chanel, and fucking Jimmy Choo’s.

Do you get me?

As much as you might want it to, life simply doesn’t run in this order; Mug – Rich – Sensible

It goes; Mug – Rich – Mug – Poor

I’ve seen this literally thousands of times.

Imagine you had a baby crocodile, but never gave it any training.

From time to time it might bite you, but not hurt too much.

Would you be surprised if it bit someone, or you, once it got to 6 feet long, and did some real damage?

Control what you currently have, or it’ll control you someday soon!

Once you have an area in your life ‘on a leash’ so to speak, then as you grow in that particular area, you have everything in order and under control.

Act as If, means behaving like a millionaire, long before you become one, and the longer you take to come around to this philosophy, the longer you’ll have to wait.

I changed my philosophy at 30 and was a multi-millionaire by 40. So there is a time lag to consider, from the time you wake up.

Your 40 yr. old Manager still hasn’t changed her mindset, and probably won’t as long as she has a hole in her arse because it gets more difficult to change as we age.

And don’t be fooled, she comes in 30 minutes before you, and leaves later, not because she wants to, but because she has to.

When could you change though?

And assuming there was a 10-year lag between change and success, then I guess the only sensible question left is; when do you want to become a fucking millionaire?

I swear to you, even though I was a clever young fucker at 20, and already soaking up your 40 yr. old Managers responsibilities, if someone had come to me with this wisdom, and laid it out the way I’m going to do for you, then I think I’d have become a billionaire by 50!

From tomorrow morning, you own that fucking store! That’s acting as if.

I don’t care what kind of a ‘shit tip’ it is, you’re walking through the door as proud as if you invented the brand.

You imagine you built the store and the profit from the till is yours to spend and save.

No one cares more about that store (your business) than you do because no one will prosper from it as you will. The only person it’ll ever leave a legacy for is your kids.

Come on, I’ve made you wait for 6,067 words for this, you’ve earnt it.

You know full well that most people your age have the attention span of a fucking fruit fly, and are more interested in ‘Monkey Rapes Frog’, ‘Two Girls, One Cup’ and stupid fucking selfies.

What! Did you think I’d lie to you? Of course, I’ve seen this, but as a multimillionaire!

What’s this training actually costing you, and what’s in it for me to feed you bullshit that doesn’t work?

Nothing.

That my friend (the bullshit), is best left to your Parents, Teachers, Managers, other Sales Trainers, Life Coaches, Friends, and Social Media!

I simply want you to have the opportunity to be the best version of you.

Because even though we’ve never met, and whoever you may be, or ‘think’ you are right now, trust me, if you were to come even close to being the best you could be, you’d set the fucking world alight.

I very much doubt if I’ve ever exploited more than 50% of my own potential. (Yet!)

However brilliant you think you are right now, however hard you think you’re pushing yourself, remember this;

‘There’s no bigger room in this world, than the room for self-improvement’

And it starts with acting as if your ‘self-employed’, but doing so while you’re still ‘employed’.

Acting as if your rich, while you’re still on junior pay.

Acting as an important person acts, walks, stands, even while no one takes you seriously.

Thinking how winners think, eating what they eat, reading, listening, watching, and paying attention to what matters to the champions, rather than the runners up!

And all that will ever actually change, will be your thoughts.

Think of a hundred Dollars!

Now think of a Million Dollars!

There, that didn’t hurt, did it?

It takes no less energy to think small like everyone else or to think big like 5% of the people do.

Welcome to the club kiddo!

Now, to close this masterclass, I need to share ‘how’ the fuck this works, since that’s what I’d want to know in your shoes. And I have worn them remember!

According to the world’s leading neurophysiologists, your conscious mind can handle 40 bits of information per second, and those impulses travel around 150 miles per hour.

This is what you use to perceive what’s going on around you right now. Meanwhile, your subconscious mind is processing 40 ‘million’ bits of info per second, travelling at up to 100,00 MPH.

I know!

An almost unbelievable difference, and one which illustrates the power of your subconscious to be ‘aware’ of almost everything in your environment.

You and I don’t really need to be aware of maintaining our body temperature, respiration, or maintaining balance right now, any more than you need to be aware of millions of other bodily functions it’s looking after.

Even the sound of that clock ticking in your room, or a neighbour’s music playing, is filtered out for you until I bring it to your attention, and now you can hear the clock ticking, yes?

But the clock was always ticking, wasn’t it?

And there are always bugs moving about our environment, but unless you need to be ‘Conscious’ of time, or your subconscious spots something potentially harmful crawling towards you, you’ll remain oblivious to both.

If you drive, you might say that you (the driver), are the conscious mind, while every single component of your car has its own important job to do, while communicating and working in harmony with all the other parts. Engine, gearbox and steering for example.

If you needed to be aware or became aware of all this going on, you’d never get your car off your drive!

Neurophysiology is all well and good, and we’ve bashed the academics enough for one day methinks. But can I just explain it to you, the way it was explained to me, using one awesome photograph?

Four Essex girls enjoy their lunch break from Topshop! You can’t buy class, can you? Well, not in Benfleet anyhow!

You know people who eat lunch in a fucking shop doorway, sandwich in one hand, cigarette in the other, and a tin of cola on the floor with ants crawling up it. Am I right?

They’ve already sent 3 selfies out today, checked their Facebook 5 times, and if they’ve gone to the trouble of buying a newspaper at all, it’ll be a tabloid piece of shit.

Winners sit down for lunch, and enjoy table service!

Even on a budget, how much is a bowl of something from Wagamama?

Or I should say, how much ‘more’ is that bowl of food, compared to what the doorway deadbeats spend?

$3, £2 a day more maybe!

And drinking anything fizzy with food is retarded anyhow, as it neutralizes your stomach acid and fucks digestion, leaving you often feeling tired for afternoon customers.

So you can do without the drink, get back to your shop 10 minutes early, and make a coffee.

Every single thing you do from now on, that supports your new belief that you’re the boss of a store, will compound on top of the last thing and don’t be surprised when customers start asking things like ‘are you the manager’ when they never did before.

It’s amazing, you must try this.

Here’s another good example of Acting as If, from a real psychology study;

They sent a regular guy into a shopping mall for an hour, with hidden cameras all over his body to register how much female attention he got.

Then they hypnotized the same guy into believing he was a porn star with a 10-inch cock and sent him back into the same mall.

The amount of female (and male) attention, went up 3 times!

That’s the power of being an ‘Alpha’

And you girls needn’t worry about being an Alpha, it simply means a cut above the rest, and needn’t affect your femininity, if you get it right.

Only now you’ll get noticed for reasons other than having green hair, or looking like a fucking racoon!

Even while you’re blissfully unaware of it, your subconscious will be scanning your environment for people and opportunities within it, to further your success.

Because that’s what it’ll believe you truly want, and it’s a willing slave.

You’ll strangely start meeting more attractive, alive, and ambitious people everywhere you go, and will never put it down to your subconscious selecting empty seats next to better-dressed people, reading better quality papers, and wearing Rolex’s on the trains you use.

It’s a supercomputer remember!

It can take in more information about someone on a train in a single second than you could gather from interviewing them for 2 minutes.

It’s saying if you were listening; ‘this person needs a haircut, has B.O., bed hair, got dressed in the dark, never had a manicure, shoes never seen polish, fake Rolex, fake tan, nails and fake tits, give her/him a miss’!