This is a great word. It describes a quality that I greatly lack. Brass neck, the cheek of the devil, not scared of rejection.

Everyone I have known in sales jobs had it in abundance. I can't sell for nuts. I used to get packs of charity raffle tickets, and bought them all myself rather than go through the agony of approaching others.

I can sell passively, and if I really believe in something I could do a good job of it. Give me a few minutes on the subject of Sudocrem for example, and I will convince you that no home should be without a pot of this miracle balm.

My ex-husband sold Encyclopaedia Britannica and Hoovers door to door when he was at university. He found rich pickings in the nearby pit villages. "Educate a mother and you educate a family" was the pitch to miner's wives. For selling Hoovers he had a bag of dust to throw on the floor, then with a theatrical flourish he would plug in the cleaner and voila! This failed at one remote farm, there was no socket. "We're not on the electric yet up here". 

I can understand his success. My Dad grew up in a Durham pit village, and his Mum and others took pride in spotless homes and were determined their sons would not end up digging coal till they dropped. I know you have to put aside your scruples when your income is entirely commission-based, so exploiting such aspirations makes sense. All the same, they were taking on a lot of debt on the "Never never".

I think the most outrageous example of chutzpah involved a friend who lived in rural France. She was in shock having had a curt email from her husband working in the UK, ending their long marriage. The phone rang, and a gruff female voice asked if she was English. When she confirmed, the woman said " Madame, I 'ave your derg". Told she must have the wrong number, the caller persisted. My friend gave in, she would just drop by for "a cup of your English tea".

Days later a battered van pulled up, and an old but energetic woman got out. In her part of France hunters would sometimes shoot working dogs when the season was over or shut them in cellars with scant food. This redoubtable lady talked them into handing the dogs over. Our reputation as a nation of animal lovers got her scouring phone directories for English names. A beautiful young male hound leapt from the van, straight into my cat-loving friend's heart. He changed her life in so many good ways.

Asked if she ever got turned away the shameless woman declared "Never!"

If I had to hard-sell for a living I would starve. I could however wax lyrical about lots of things without any qualms. Soda crystals, caffeine shampoo, my patio weeder, Maybelline lip Ink, Spice Tailor curry pouches (thanks Julia!), Lakeland's pineapple peeler, Kefir. 

What could you persuade me to part with money for, without having to compromise your conscience?

Val

A Moodscope member