Why I couldn’t sell the best cooker in Clapham and other lessons in business life

I had a rich friend at college who once asked me if I’d mind selling a top of the range cooker he had left over from the student house he’d just sold – he had to leave the country for tax reasons or something. Being an impecunious graduate, I happily agreed to a commission deal to sell it via Loot (this was the 90s).

So anyway, I got immediate interest from a lady in Surrey – it was exactly the model and colour (white) she was looking for and she’d come straight over to Clapham on Saturday morning with her husband and would almost certainly buy it.

So they arrive, everything about this couple is immaculate, a spotless car with natty little trailer attached, smart weekend clothes ready for lunch at the golf club, contrasting sharply, and this is where the sale began to unravel, with our gloomy, cold 60s throwback rented house which smelt a bit damp and had the sort of carpets that audibly crunch when you walk on them.

I did my best, gave the full background to the cooker, one of the best of its kind, but as we stood in the yellowing back parlour squinting at the Gucci cooker in the gloom, framed by brown nylon curtains and the whiff of old cheese, I could tell the game was up. It didn’t matter how great the product was, or how cheap, I wasn’t going to sell it.

There’s a lesson for today’s business life in there, that where you meet prospective clients is still terribly important, no matter how virtual and mobile the business world is becoming, or how good a product it is you think you’re selling.