I'm starting this thread in response to the "Figuring out how much money he has" thread because I think most of us probably have a story about the guy we sat down with for lack of better prospects. The one with the dirty baseball cap and bad hair. The one with his arms crossed. The young one with pimples. The loud and fat. Yet they make your night.
Joe Girard, in his book How to Close Every Sale argues that you can't know what a buyer looks like: "My business was to sell cars, and I didn't want to hear other sales people griping all day. But I couldn't help overhearing them. Customers would walk into the showroom and a salesman would say: 'You take that one, I don't want him. He's just a shopper.' ...Somebody else would say, 'Look at this mooch. He can't even afford to wear a decent coat.' The next customer's hair was too long. And another belonged to an ethnic group that 'don't buy cars.' All day long, these guys would think up reasons why people weren't good prospects. I couldn't get over it. It was as if they were trying to convince themselves that nobody ever bought cars. But me, I believed that every person who walked into the showroom was there for one reason: to buy a car! I figured every person who walked into the showroom had one thought in mind--he or she wanted to buy a car. Why else would anyone come into an automobile dealership?
To this day I could never figure out what those salespeople know that I don't know. How in the world can anyone look at somebody and determine if he's going to buy? I've been in the sales field for many years and I still have no idea what a buyer is supposed to look like, and I defy anyone to describe what one looks like."
My first whale was a guy that always wore the same orange sweatshirt and dirty baseball cap. He had white hair that he never bothered to cut or fix. Same jeans every time. Smoked Marlboro reds while hunched over his coffee. I never saw him buy a dance. Upon talking to him, he'd been a Wallstreet investment banker in the late 80's and owned a modeling agency in the 90's. He handed me a $20 every three songs for hours while I listened and talked. Never did a dance. Whale in beggar's clothing.
Yet another guy. Southern accent. Young twenties. So stupid he lied and told me he was a "financial advisee."Nursed his beer. I should have quick-hustled him for one dance and moved to another table. However, I made over $700 from him in repeat VIP sales and tips.
Another: Blue-collar mexican. Possible language barrier. Stereotyped as grabby and flagrant enough to pay you $18 for a $20 dance if you don't count the money before you walk off. Hung at my stage tipping a few ones. I approached him to thank him and thought what the hell. $400 in dances. Let me also mention that I often used the excuse that "Mexicans aren't my demographic."
Please share your stories about whales in beggar's clothing and keep it hustle-related as a way to inspire others to approach everyone and take everything they're willing to give--even if it's next week's paycheck.



Nursed his beer. I should have quick-hustled him for one dance and moved to another table. However, I made over $700 from him in repeat VIP sales and tips. 
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