I mentioned that I work with a brother and a sister. Sister is cool. Brother is that oaf with anger management issues. He, being an oaf, is not being as successful as his sister and I, so he asked me to type up the script I follow. This company loves everything to be scripted so the people we usually hire, who see this as a step up from flipping burgers or at least a job where they can sit down all day, can do well. Those people are why we have the complicated incentive structure I described above, where they have to perform overall as well as shoot for the best type of “sale.”
A woman from the client, and I suspect one of the other managers here, wrote the first version. It was endless, including a company history and other shit that the person on the other end does not care about and has no time to listen to. A full two thirds of it were stripped before I ever saw it, but it was still too long. The “product” I am “selling” is simply registering medical offices to get direct deposits of their payments from us rather than us sending them a stack of checks every month. Every health insurance company is doing this, so I’m not giving away any company secrets. And nearly everybody I call knows this, and are already doing it with some of their other payers. We save big on processing costs and they get their money faster and can plug the data right into their accounting systems. Wins all around, so I usually don’t need to fucking describe or defend it.
A paragraph or three gone and my “script” becomes, “We’re going to start sending your money directly into your bank account, and I’d like to register you. Do you have four minutes and access to the internet?” If they don’t have the time I send them a link so they can do it at their leisure. If they do I walk them through the process. There are lots of little sticking points that could be handled by explanations on the website, but nobody reads them and lots of people thank me for my help.
That’s it–two sentences. These people are busy and I’m interrupting their day; get in and get out. No mention of cost unless they ask and certainly not the “Registration is free of charge” in the script because it implies that there are costs after registration (“Cost? You are saving us money.”) and “free of charge” sounds too Popeil-ish. No “Weather Rapport” that some programs here require. Few of these people have time for inane small talk; we aren’t selling Robot Insurance to lonely seniors. Some do, so I’ll hit the Blarney Switch and go to vague flirtation and corny humor. All part of the studied nonchalance I mentioned before and anything to put them at ease because it is a “product” that sounds a bit scary for some, but which can take a load off their workload. “Can” being operable, since using it efficiently will force some of them to update their entire accounting systems. Which our good Uncle is already forcing with Medicare and Medicaid. Time to either enter the 21st century or go to cash-only.
Success on this program requires one to be personable, but Brother ain’t the sort of personable you use when talking with middle-aged*, female, office managers. Think of Ralph Kramden as a telemarketer: he’s rushed and pushy and easily frustrated. They are reminded of why they got divorced. He has to relax and treat the people he calls as friends. He also needs to shut up between calls. No more sports and Academy Awards trivia, no more obsessing about his financial situation. Get in tune with his inner Charming Irish Rogue. Spend the day on the phone instead of gabbing and he’ll make more sales. I could give him my script and even coach him, but he first needs to learn to take criticism without blowing up at the person trying to help. I don’t want him to get fired because his sister will follow right behind, and I want to keep her.
-
- I am shocked by all the Rhondas I’ve been talking with, but it makes sense. Age fifty-ish? Mom and dad were Beach Boy fans? There will be Rhondas. And Sherrys in New Jersey. What dad could resist singing “Sherry, Sherry baby,” while tickling his infant daughter’s tummy?