I am wholly self taught as a recruiter and people occasionally wonder what one needs to do to build skills of being arrogant, supercilious, high handed and talking too loudly.
I do this by applying these respected techniques in my everyday life.
So last week I was in WM Smith and overheard them shafting some old guy who'd bought some booklet which turned out to have pages missing.
Turns out that WH Smith don't give receipts for "small" items and therfore were refusing to refund him.
Being the sort of self important bastard I am, I joined in the conversation, pointing out the Sale of Goods act, and using phrases like "you sold him defective goods" more frequently and loudly than normal polite conversation would require. I helped this old guy make a fuss and asked to see the manager. It may surprise you to learn that I clearly used these phrases even when no one was speaking to me and in a way that ensured all customers in the central London store heard it, several times.
They at first refused and asked what it was to do with me, I pointed out in a loud clear voice that as a City Headhunter it was my duty to ensure that people's rights were respected. For some reason this duty is not well known and they were taken aback.
I then referred to him as my friend, since as we all know, recruiters are friends with everyone and the old guy saw this as a chance to get past the WH Smith staff trying to palm him off.
The manager turned up, but of course it wasn't the manager, just some sort of section manager who again tried to claim that WH Smith's policies over rode the Sale of Goods act. I spoke clearly again, and again, always politely (if rather loudly) and kept a distance from the shop staff so that they could not claim that a scar faced gap tooth basted in a bomber jacket was threatening them.
So I fiddled with my phone a bit and asked for the name of the person I was dealing with because my phone was by now ringing the media relations manager at WH Smith and I let it drop that I was also a journalist. Suddenyl, as if by magic the manager turned out *not* to be in a meeting after all and was only too happy to give a refund.
I patronised him for a bit, for no good reason other than to make him look small in front of his team because it was almost certain that the instructions to refused refunds on shoddy goods came from him.
I do this by applying these respected techniques in my everyday life.
So last week I was in WM Smith and overheard them shafting some old guy who'd bought some booklet which turned out to have pages missing.
Turns out that WH Smith don't give receipts for "small" items and therfore were refusing to refund him.
Being the sort of self important bastard I am, I joined in the conversation, pointing out the Sale of Goods act, and using phrases like "you sold him defective goods" more frequently and loudly than normal polite conversation would require. I helped this old guy make a fuss and asked to see the manager. It may surprise you to learn that I clearly used these phrases even when no one was speaking to me and in a way that ensured all customers in the central London store heard it, several times.
They at first refused and asked what it was to do with me, I pointed out in a loud clear voice that as a City Headhunter it was my duty to ensure that people's rights were respected. For some reason this duty is not well known and they were taken aback.
I then referred to him as my friend, since as we all know, recruiters are friends with everyone and the old guy saw this as a chance to get past the WH Smith staff trying to palm him off.
The manager turned up, but of course it wasn't the manager, just some sort of section manager who again tried to claim that WH Smith's policies over rode the Sale of Goods act. I spoke clearly again, and again, always politely (if rather loudly) and kept a distance from the shop staff so that they could not claim that a scar faced gap tooth basted in a bomber jacket was threatening them.
So I fiddled with my phone a bit and asked for the name of the person I was dealing with because my phone was by now ringing the media relations manager at WH Smith and I let it drop that I was also a journalist. Suddenyl, as if by magic the manager turned out *not* to be in a meeting after all and was only too happy to give a refund.
I patronised him for a bit, for no good reason other than to make him look small in front of his team because it was almost certain that the instructions to refused refunds on shoddy goods came from him.
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