The Cassie Chronicles - She's Back

Cassie’s learning a new way to talk to her customers - and to Skinny Bitch. It’s all about love and semantics. Do you feel it?

Vocabulary Test

A few weeks ago we had a seminar for sales and customer service. Three days of a man named Chuck with slicked back hair, pungent cologne and loud ties, telling us how to interact with customers. It seems we’ve been doing things all wrong.

First was the vocabulary lesson. Chuck’s handout showed two columns. Column A listed words we currently use. Column B proposed better choices. I studied my handout.

Column A said “Project”. Column B said “Community”.

“Never say project,” Chuck told us. “The word has no heart. People can’t feel attached to a project. They’re looking for a community to belong to, a comfortable home environment.”

Column A said “Tract”. Column B said “Neighborhood”.

“Same principle here,” Chuck said. “Tract equals a lifeless plot of dirt. Who wants to live in a tract?” He waited for a response and seemed pleased to receive none. “That’s right!” Chuck exclaimed. “It’s a neighborhood people want. In a neighborhood, people look out for one another. Everyone wants that.”

“Are we supposed to use these words in Customer Service, too?” someone asked.

“Oh, yes,” Chuck replied. “This is a whole new company vocabulary. Put Column A behind you. Embrace Column B. Soon you’ll feel the love coming from everyone, buyers and co-workers alike.”

Skinny Bitch was beaming, eating up everything Chuck said. So was Art Baker, the head of customer service. The rest of us squirmed in our straight-backed chairs.

Since then there has been a steady stream of emails from Skinny Bitch reminding us of our new jargon. Replacement price sheets have arrived listing “Home Sites” instead of “Lots”. It’s not Tract 16632, but the Neighborhood of Bella Vista in the Community of Cantata del Mar. A new sign out front announces the Sales Gallery, not the Sales Office, and we don’t sell houses, we offer homes. People don’t go to the Design Center anymore to pick their upgrades, it’s the Design Studio. Oops, they aren’t upgrades, they’re customizing options. Standard items are now included features. And according to my new business card I’m a sales counselor, not a sales representative.

We are all trying very hard to embrace this change, because times are tough in real estate and we’re afraid we’ll be caught using the wrong word and be out on our keesters.

So, Skinny Bitch’s call today surprised me.

“Cassie,” she said, “We’re reviewing your project and need to know if the buyers of Lot 52 in Tract 16632 have gone to the Design Center yet to pick the upgrades for their house.”

Hmmm. Was this a test? I wasn’t taking any chances.

“Let me check the paperwork for my community, Tina,” I said. “Yes, the Wilsons went to the Design Studio on November 3^rd to select customizing options for their home on Home Site 52 in our neighborhood, just like I counseled them to do.”

I figure I aced it. And yes, Chuck, I do feel the love.

Copyright 2009, Liz Zuercher

The Cassie Chronicles

Welcome to The Cassie Chronicles, a collection of fictional vignettes featuring the adventures of veteran new home sales representative, Cassie Petersen. Cassie’s been at this job a long time, through the many ups and downs of the real estate market. She’s seen her share of difficult people, both customers and co-workers, and situations that have been challenging, sad, heartwarming, funny and even downright disgusting. It all depends on who happens to walk through the sales office door and the stories they bring with them.

Today’s episode takes place at the Bella Vista model complex where Cassie is the Sales Manager and introduces one particular nemesis, the dreaded Vice President of Marketing.

Pillow Talk

“Oh God, Cassie, here comes Skinny Bitch,” my assistant, Sarah, said.

Skinny Bitch is Tina Masterson, our Marketing VP, and sure enough, there was her icy white Mercedes in the parking lot. I’d just spent half an hour on the phone trying to keep a skittish buyer from canceling. I was in no mood for Skinny Bitch.

Tina got out of the car, smoothed her black pencil skirt over narrow hips and put on her suit jacket. After flipping her long jet-black hair away from her face, she reached back into the car. I hoped at least she’d brought the granite samples we desperately needed, but all she retrieved was a clipboard.

I girded for battle.

“Hi Cassie,” Tina chirped as she swept into the office.

“Hi Tina. Good to see you,” I sang back. I can turn on the charm, too. After twenty years of selling new homes, I should get an Oscar for my acting. “What can we do for you today?’

Tapping the clipboard, she said, “I’m walking the models. We have to put our best foot forward, you know.”

Skinny Bitch has rules about our models, including having scented candles she personally selected burning all over the place, even in the models. We don’t have any.

“Where are your candles?” she asked right away.

Deciding not to tell her that customers hated the smell, I said, “I think they’re a safety hazard.” Tina’s frozen smile cracked. We’ve disagreed about this point before. But she hadn’t seen the little girl who held her sister’s finger in the flame or the little boys playing catch in the Plan 1 living room. She thinks parents watch their kids.

Lips pursed, Tina started through the models with her clipboard, but soon was back in the sales office.

“I’d like to show you a few things,” Tina said curtly.

I followed her into the Plan 2 model like a naughty child.

“The fireplace isn’t lighted,” she said.

I reiterated my spiel on the dangers of open flames in the model homes. Her eyes narrowed.

“Hmmm,” she said and moved into the family room.

“The pillows aren’t fluffed right,” Skinny Bitch scolded. “Let me show you,” she said, grabbing a pillow. “Plump it up, place it on the sofa and karate chop in the middle. Like this.”

Her karate chop left a calculated dent in the pillow top, puffing out the sides like fat cheeks. She handed me a pillow. “Now you do this one.”

I sucked it up and obliged, plumping, placing and chopping the next pillow. My karate chop was especially energetic. It felt good.

“Nice job,” Tina said. “Let’s plump all the pillows today, then you teach everyone the plumping process so the pillows always look right. In this challenging market there can’t be enough attention to detail.”

Then where are my granite samples, I grumbled to myself? How many homes will plump pillows sell?

That was yesterday. Today when I arrived, people were already waiting at the door, including our new temp, Judy. I sent her to open the models while I talked to the customers. After I got them squared away, I realized that Judy still wasn’t back. I was about to go check on her when she finally returned.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she said, a little breathless. “Someone made big dents in all the pillows and I had to fix them. Do you realize how many pillows there are in four model homes?"

Oh, boy, do I ever.

Copyright Liz Zuercher, 2009