Salesmen wear sharp suits. Drive shiny cars. Talk a little too quickly. They certainly can’t be trusted. Oh no, it's not me. Or you.
Except it is.
We all sell. All the time. Everyday.
“You do like fish fingers”.
“Can I have a lift?”
“Would you drop me off?”
“Why do you want this job?”
“Have you thought about doing it like this?”
Almost every interaction involves some kind of selling, whether we intend to or not, are aware or not. Each interaction a subtle expressing of our own secret hopes, desires, anxieties. Our secret hopes of being seen and heard.
The playground is the most important classroom in a school.
It's where we learn social interaction. It's where we learn about relationships and playing my game vs your game. It’s where we learn about rejection and fun and people. It’s where we learn about selling.
We’re selling all the time, even when we believe that selling is something other people do. Maybe especially when we believe it's what other people do.
We were selling (almost) all the time in the playground. We’re selling (almost) all the time in the work-ground. And we’re selling (almost) all the time, and quite badly, each and every kids teatime.