Selling Yourself

The bio on this blog says I suck as a businessman but the gentleman, who recently had me look again into the pain, doesn’t read my blog.
He’s a fellow media person, a sports writer with a sports related magazine. I met him when I hosted a sports related television show:

“Larry, I have a great business opportunity for you. Just give me twelve minutes of your time.”

“It’s just that I’m not a good sales person,” I stressed. “I’ve tried it over and over again. I just don’t like it.”

“Hey, I don’t like selling either. That’s why I do this. Let me drop off a DVD at the station.”

“OK, I’ll take a look.”

And I did, because every time I left the media, entertainment, or creative part of my life, it was to make plenty of money. That’s what I’ve never had in my life. (Luckily, my wife doesn’t spend money. She’s tighter than two coats of paint.)

My friend had a great product, a new one, which makes me mad at myself for not taking him up on the offer but I’ve come to the conclusion, I’m tired of trying to convince people to do something. I’m a buyer’s sales person. Everyone should get a deal and forget about haggling. I’d cave and give you money to take it off my hands.

Believe me, I wasn’t this way as a kid. I sold flower seeds to save enough money to buy a bb gun. After that I baked cakes and went door to door in the neighborhood to raffle it off, had the usual passé lemonade stand, and sold cup cakes out of the back door of my house. Little kids would come knocking at the door, look from side to side, and ask my mother, “Larry got any cup cake?” It was like a drug deal that ended with a sugar high. What the hell happen to me? That kid is long gone.

Could it be somewhere between wanting money to be happy and needing money to be happy, I lost my drive to go for the money? I can’t be alone?

Good Lord, how can a person who sucks at selling, sell themselves?