Going on the hard sell was not my calling in life

Cold calling has become one of the banes of modern life. Barely a day goes by without these rude, pushy types giving the hard sell about PPI claims, whiplash compensation and better deals on broadband.

The BBC docudrama The Call Centre portrays them as loveable David-Brent like buffoons.

Then again, a few years ago a similar series showed even traffic wardens in a reasonably human light. Well almost.

Most of us, though, imagine telephone marketeers as being amoral, unpleasant automatons, the sort who get turned down by The Apprentice for being too cut-throat.

Well here is a confession you won't be hearing very often. Once, many, many years ago, I was one of those people. I briefly worked as a double-glazing salesman.

Not that we were ever allowed to call ourselves that.

"Never say it's about windows, they will say 'no' straight away. Tell them it's home improvements," we were instructed.

"Say consultant or technician," added the soon-to-be-sacked sales manager.

"Say you're offering a free consultation. People will have anything that's free."

Surprisingly, this often turned out to be the case.

In those days there was no such thing as a 'call centre,' or a computer database or anything like that. We operated from a shabby office at the side of the showroom, equipped with just a phone and a dog-eared phone directory with several pages missing. And a giant mirror to ensure we always smiled sweetly.

"Always smile, the customer will hear it in your voice," the training manual explained.

Compared to the aggressive, hard sell employed by today's cold callers, it was all rather gentle. Most people were friendly, although there was always the odd person who wasn't pleased to hear from us.

The important thing to remember, of course, is that most people really do want to buy double glazing.

Some of them hide it well, they might protest that they're really not interested. But it was simply a matter of tapping into that subconscious.But deep down, at the very back of their mind, they are really desperate for a full set of wood-effect uPVC with spags.

Positive thinking was always the starting point, asking lots of questions where the answer would inevitably be 'yes'.

"Hello. Is that Mr Jones?"

"Yes".

"Mr Ernest Jones?"

"Yes".

"And you live at 14, Acacia Avenue?"

"Yes".

"And you would like a new conservatory?"

"Ye..."

Of course it rarely went that smoothly, but you can see the thinking behind the process.

Not everybody was entirely scrupulous. One seasoned door-to-door canvasser told me how he targeted houses with a "No salesman" sign outside the door.

"Can't you read?" the irate householder would invariably bellow.

"No sir, I can't," he would reply, regaling the apologetic prospect with a sob story about his learning difficulties.

I soon decided it was time to try something new, and work as an office clerk at Customs & Excise proved to be both more pleasant and more ethical.

The double glazing company went bust a month or so after I left. I would like to think the two were connected, but they probably weren't.

Read our panel of columnists first in your Weekend Shropshire Star, every Saturday.