Avon is a four letter word
The Weblog Review has three reviews posted of this blog. Everyone gave it a 3 to 4 out of 5. That's how I feel about Avon today.
Yesterday was the big montly sales meeting. It's held in a typical Southern California stucco two-story office complex, next to an insurance company. Over the door is a sign made of cut-out metal and glass spelling AVON.
I just returned from giving samples to old ladies at the Senior Center. I brought my banjo to the rec room and played a few bluegrass tunes as a warm up and then passed around little plastic squares filled with Anew Retroactive creme. It seemed a good antidote to the migraine of last afternoon.
One lady at a corner table kept her beige knit acrylic sweater wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
"No. I don't want one of those," she grunted.
"Oh, it's free! I'm not taking orders or anything. I just thought it would be fun to give away some skin care stuff." I smiled with my biggest teeth grin and did a little body shimmy as I spoke.
"Nothing is free in this life. Free is a four-letter word."
Her words snapped my mind back to the sales meeting and Karla, a square-shouldered woman with long tightly-curled hair. The theme of the meeting was "Sharing" and Sherry The Manager called Karla to the floor to talk about her incredible success as a new Unit Leader.
I'm not sure of all the levels in Avon for those who choose to take on the "Leadership" path. All I know for sure is that you recruit other folks to sell Avon and encourage them to do the same. It seems to me like those multilevel marketing companies even though the Avon literature stresses that this is unique, safer, and lucrative.
Karla wore a long black broom skirt and a native-print jacket in brown and black. She moved her hands in unison, up and down, as she spoke. Her soft body bounced and jiggled with the arm motions, sending waves of energy through the pleats in her skirt.
"I tell all my new reps that it takes a four-letter word. W-O-R-K. Work. It takes work. And if you don't do the work, you won't reach your goals."
Karla's eyes narrowed. She talked about setting goals, about making Avon a full-time occupation instead of just a hobby. She was hardcore.
The room filled with heat. The outside temperature rose to over 100 degrees. The smell of perfume mixed with sweat overpowered me and I found myself nodding my head to everything anyone said. I was the Avon bobblehead.
Sherry called me up to share my experiences being an e-rep. I didn't mention my blog. I explained how to make customer invoices online and pointed out that Avon corporate will send you customers in your area if you are an e-rep. A glamorous older blonde in a designer pantsuit kept challenging me, telling me that I was wrong. I didn't know quite what to do so I said that it was hard to explain this stuff without a computer to show examples.
I won a pink beaded necklace and earring set as a door prize, and on my way out the door I signed a sheet to take extra tubes of Cellu-Sculpt to sell. So Cal is the land of image, and on my walk to the Senior Center I spoke to a woman sitting on the grass, a racing bike propped against the fence behind her. This seemed a good time to potentially unload a tube.
"Hey! I'm an Avon Lady! Have you seen the Cellu-Scupt advertisements?"
She laid her water bottle on the ground.
"Yes! Are you really an Avon Lady?" She looked incredulously at me. I had my Avon shoulder bag under one arm and my banjo under the other. I wore Khaki cut-offs, a blue t-shirt with my Amnesty International button, my door prize jewels, and my Avon flip-flops, not a speck of make-up on my face.
"Oh yes! Here, take a brochure! The Cellu-Sculpt is just made for folks like you who wear those revealing bike shorts."
She laughed and took the brochure. I made sure to stuff a couple of samples in the pages. She shook her head as I continued sauntering on my way, my Goddess fragrance and the slapping of the flip-flops leaving a wake behind me.
12:45:47 PM 
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