The Art And Artifice Of Cold-Calling
Exploring The Nerve-Wracking Experience Of Networking By Phone
Jeremy Woodlee
Issue date: 5/13/02 Section: Perspectives
Cold-calling has always scared me senseless. I don't like picking up a phone, dialing a strange number, and talking to someone I don't know. I get shivers, sweaty palms, and general blood-pressure-rising, pulse-quickening anxiety. I say it is a physical reaction, because I don't sit there and debate over the pros and cons of making such a call. I just get nervous, then I get antsy, then I run away.
The joke is that I'm a salesperson by trade. I've worked in sales from the day I graduated college. I've been making sales calls for years. But for some reason, these sales calls don't make me nearly as nervous as cold calls. I still get edgy, but I always do the sales calls. I put on my suit and my dress shirt and my tie and I go out there and talk, talk, talk. Actually doing the call was never as bad as thinking about doing the call.
Now, if I can swallow my fears and become a salesperson, then why can't I just do the same and cold-call? It's not so much different. Rather than selling a product or service, you're selling yourself. The only salient difference that I can detect is that sales calls are on behalf of a company and cold-calls are on behalf of yourself. Now, you would think that I would be motivated more to act in my own interest than a third parties', wouldn't you? Au contraire, mon ami.
The good news is that I've gotten over my fear of cold-calling. I finally found a strong enough sense of self-interest to overcome my rather flimsy, but physically overwhelming fear of cold-calling. That self-interest is summer employment, and ultimately the tens of thousands of dollars in loans accumulating under my name. Nothing quite like a crushing debt burden to get you motivated. I've spent the past few weeks calling all sorts of companies (technology start-ups in Chicago, in case you know of any), quizzing them on their needs, and selling myself. I've gotten fairly good too, if I don't mind saying so myself. I can tell almost immediately that they don't need an MBA intern – they barely have to say a word – just a subtle tone and inflection – "Welllll, actuallllllly …."
The joke is that I'm a salesperson by trade. I've worked in sales from the day I graduated college. I've been making sales calls for years. But for some reason, these sales calls don't make me nearly as nervous as cold calls. I still get edgy, but I always do the sales calls. I put on my suit and my dress shirt and my tie and I go out there and talk, talk, talk. Actually doing the call was never as bad as thinking about doing the call.
Now, if I can swallow my fears and become a salesperson, then why can't I just do the same and cold-call? It's not so much different. Rather than selling a product or service, you're selling yourself. The only salient difference that I can detect is that sales calls are on behalf of a company and cold-calls are on behalf of yourself. Now, you would think that I would be motivated more to act in my own interest than a third parties', wouldn't you? Au contraire, mon ami.
The good news is that I've gotten over my fear of cold-calling. I finally found a strong enough sense of self-interest to overcome my rather flimsy, but physically overwhelming fear of cold-calling. That self-interest is summer employment, and ultimately the tens of thousands of dollars in loans accumulating under my name. Nothing quite like a crushing debt burden to get you motivated. I've spent the past few weeks calling all sorts of companies (technology start-ups in Chicago, in case you know of any), quizzing them on their needs, and selling myself. I've gotten fairly good too, if I don't mind saying so myself. I can tell almost immediately that they don't need an MBA intern – they barely have to say a word – just a subtle tone and inflection – "Welllll, actuallllllly …."