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Took her back to my place and then....wait, what's that sound?
The other night I was driving around in my Ford GT and picked up a really hot gal. Took her back to my place and then....wait, what's that sound? Damned alarm clock! Time to wake up.
fla2calli,
I like your perspective. It's soooooo easy to let the first 6 get to you. I've got two questions...
How long have you been selling FE?
How early were you to your #7?
Andy
Just curious, do you only concentrate on FE needs?
Sheryl Brown / @AshBrokerage
fla2cali,
Great Job, very positive. I got one question, what type of mailers are you using to get your leads?
I've been selling FE exclusively for over a year. But I have 10 years experience in the insurance business.
I got to my 7th appointment only around 30 minutes early. After having so many no shows I had to get my head together, and put my attitude in check before seeing my next appointment.
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FE needs? If you mean do I sell FE exclusively? Then yes.
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I use the same crappy supplement your social security benefit of $255 mailers or some variation of it, that everyone else uses. I think that everyone that sells FE would rather use something else, that is more direct, that leaves out the $255 thing, but they get the most responses. No point in trying to reinvent the wheel.....and yes.. I already tried to reinvent the wheel with my own mailer, and the results were embarrassing.
On my way to my first appointment yesterday, I stopped to door knock a lead that wouldn't answer the phone. I'm in a rural area and when I get there I see that they are busy "sugaring" (making maple syrup). So, I slog through the mud, up the hill to the sugarhouse, to see if they're there. Just as I get the the sugarhouse door, a woman and a kid come out. They claim not to know who the person is on the lead car, but when I show her the card she cops to the fact that it's her ex-husband, who still uses this address, since he's in the pen. (the penitentary, that is). So, strike one. Then, up the road comes the family mutt, through the mud. It comes straight for me and jumps up on my khakis, covering them with juicy mud. Strike two. I kind of brush off the mud and say how it's not my favorite pair of pants, whatever. The lady says call me on my cell next time you're around and I'll get a policy on myself. As I'm writing her cell number on the card, she says: "Your coats on fire!" An ember from the sugarhouse chimney had landed on my coat, catching it on fire. She patted it out, but it left a dime sized hole over the left chest area. She suggested I get a name tag to cover the hole. Strike three.
Rest of the day: three appointments, 2248 AP. Lots of comments like "Do you know you have a hole in your coat?".