Even though I was an experienced griller, I knew it would take a whole summer of demonstrations to figure out the best routine for packing gear, storing food, and managing tear downs efficiently. The ultimate success of the demonstration, however, depended on some things I had no control over. For instance, without dealer support and customers who respected the dealer, the demonstrations fell flat. I was naïve at first, startled that some dealers would receive me coldly. I had reasoned that since Weber was paying me for my services, dealers would be happy with an enthusiast (me!) for the cost of food. Even that figure they could control, the normal range being $100 to $300 per event. As part of my duties, I call the store manager or owner the previous week to alert them that I was coming the next weekend. Right then I could gauge their enthusiasm by the sound of their voice. Terse or polite? Their attitude shows how they will receive me. I understand if a manager is busy and cannot come to the phone when I call. If I’m forced to call three or four times to connect, I expect indifference at best.
Those instances proved the hardest to perform well. These dealers won’t have a space carved out for me in their parking lot and won’t even post signage that there’s a demo today. Others are annoyed or have forgotten that I was even arriving. Once I was assigned to a new hardware store opening within a shopping center. I knew that the representative had delivered a new grill for my use a few days earlier. I brought a ten-foot square canopy, my usual grilling tools, and prepared food ready to grill derived from insulated soft shell containers. When I pulled up, I noticed no roped off area in the parking lot. I temporarily parked my truck by the storefront and walked in. I introduced myself and asked for the manager by name. The casher directed me to the assistant manager instead, who was leaning on a high counter in their store’s paint center while chit-chatting with other employees.
Again, I introduced myself and asked where she wanted me to base the demo.
“You’ll have to set up on the sidewalk at the front of the store,” she said with disdain.
She slowly walked out with me to the storefront, but I saw immediately there was no way I could fit a canopy under its permanent awning. I was also concerned that I would be hidden to customers, tucked to the side and out of their front entrance. Was that the intention? I glanced at my watch, seeing the 11:00 starting time was quickly approaching.
“Could I set up in the parking lot?” I asked.
She immediately dismissed it with a head wag.
“This is where the other guy set up,” she insisted, pointing to a square area under the awning.
“What other guy?” I asked.
She mentioned a competitor and its unnamed representative.
“Well, I must use the canopy. . . . Is the grill Ryan brought here? If so, where is it?”
She looked at me squarely. “I only have two hands!”
I stepped back. I hadn’t anticipated outright combativeness, her face now shriveling into a scowl.
“Wow!” I responded before softening my tone. “I didn’t say you had to do anything. I would be glad to retrieve the grill . . . if it’s here.”
She marched by me and back into the store. I just stood there for a moment, still shocked at her response, and then walked back to the truck where Margie was waiting inside the cab.
“Where are we setting up?” she asked.
I could feel my shock turning to anger. “I don’t know, but right now, I feel like turning the truck around and going home. I can see I’m not going to get any help here,” I said, quickly recounting what just transpired.
I texted Ryan and told him briefly what happened. I started the engine and circled the parking lot, trying to decide what to do. Ryan then called me to say he would text the manager and see if he could mediate.
When I returned to the front, I idled the truck, waiting to hear back from Ryan. Another hardware employee emerged from the store. “Are you Gary?”
“Yes,” I said, remaining in the driver’s seat.
“I’m the manager of the store. You can set up wherever you want, even directly in front of the doors. You could put your canopy next to the roofline. That’s what the other guy did. I’ll go get your grill.” I noticed immediately that his characterization clashed with the assistant manager’s stance and attitude.
Without another word, I exited the truck and began unloading the milk cartons full of grilling gear and promotional props. The manager also directed several of his teen workers to help put up the canopy, retrieve two propane tanks, and set up tables. The manager rolled out a new Genesis from the showroom. I was soon positioning the protein over hot grates and greeting customers.
Margie and I stayed busy well into the second hour when the assistant manager reappeared sheepishly. “I hear you have some good food out here.”
“Thanks. Try some. Margie will serve you.”
***
A more surprising development happens when dealers badmouth the product I’m there to promote. They also ask me if I’d ever grilled on a particular competitor’s product, implying that they prefer it. In my first year, I was asked this question at four different, small dealers. Increasingly I felt uneasy that these dealers were undermining the reasons for me to appear there.
In such situations, I noticed they had little or no familiarity with the products they displayed in their showroom. Here my former teacher self wanted to jump in to correct, but I resisted. I found it far more persuasive if I listened to what dealers were saying. Besides, their livelihood is at stake; I am just a part-time subcontractor. I really tried to crawl into their perspective as much as I could. Only then did I follow up with genuinely open-ended questions, like asking them why they believed a certain way or if they talked about this matter with their representative. This transaction encouraged an honest exchange of views, outside the earshot of customers.
I saw this scene play out at my very first demo. That dealer, within the first few minutes of meeting me, speculated as to why he couldn’t sell a single Summit Komodo model. “It just doesn’t appeal to my customers,” he said. “Maybe it’s the cheap plastic wheels or . . . well, I just don’t know.” He said that he then quickly moves customers over to some competitor models in the showroom.
After he finished, I didn’t disagree. Instead, I introduced questions, a “third party” voice, outside myself, to change the trajectory of the conversation.
“Have you noticed some of the unique features of the Summit, like the dual fuel-level grates and the rapid-fire damper that fully opens?” I asked. “It closely mimics how a propane grill heats in terms of quick startup and equally quick cool downs.”
“I’ve never cooked on it,” he admitted.
I pointed out how impressive the air insulator lid is, enabling the grill to maintain consistent temperatures over hours of cooking. “Once I cooked over ten hours without refueling in that grill. It performs well in winters, even with freezing temperatures and gusty winds.”
That was the closest we came to agreement, but in this way, I managed to communicate a few points he hadn’t considered. The store traffic was slow, but he did return often to talk about the product lineup.
Conversely, in the circuit of dealers I visited on consecutive Saturdays that first year, I noticed significantly larger crowds where customers spoke gushingly about the dealer. At those same places, customers were more likely to linger with me for a few moments to ask questions about what I was grilling or to seek my advice about purchasing a new grill or accessory. Some even asked me to accompany them into the showroom and point out features. In these instances, I began to develop a relationship with customers. These became conversations that touched on other elements in their life: work, leisure time, family, personal fulfillment. I characterize them as impromptu and heartfelt; customers feel at home and enter so-called lifestyle discussions with me. For instance, one dealer located in the Pocono mountains visit him on Saturdays as if they were dropping by on a neighbor. I’ve noticed on my yearly visits there that they have begun to incorporate me into that family. They recognize me. They follow me on social media. They ask me about my family and, without losing a step, what is new from Weber this year. Several dealers that I visit every year have similar enthusiastic fan bases. I could see their loyalty in the heavy store traffic.
