There aren’t a ton of Black folks in my neighborhood.
There are some of us, but not a lot. We are easy to spot in a crowd, and it’s really easy for us to notice each other. I know, or at least know of, all the Blacks folks in every building I’ve lived in.
Sometime in the summer, I was on my evening walk when I noticed a Black woman crossing the street coming towards me. We exchanged eye contact and hellos, but nothing more. I’d never seen her before, but did see her a few more times over the next few months.
It wasn’t until November that we finally had a conversation.
I was posted up (read: standing somewhere looking cool) in a busy part of the neighborhood writing some notes in my phone when she approached. She was, like me, from a city in the northeastern part of the country. She didn’t ask much about me, but she told me that she was a stylist for some celebrities who she casually named dropped.
She also was an escort. This is the part she really wanted to get across.
It was at this exact point that she stopped talking, reading my face to see how I’d respond to this information.
“Ok. It’s legal, all in the game I guess.” [While writing this, I found from some quick googling that escorting laws vary by state and can get quite complicated.]
She looked me up and down.
“What about you — do you need a friend?”
“I don’t pay for sex.”
“Well, you might need somebody to talk to.”
“Do you think I need to pay a female to talk to me?”
She smirked and walked away.
I’ve seen her a few times since then; she doesn’t even look my way.
All in the game.
I respect her hustle. As soon as this woman identified me as a non-buyer, she stopped investing time in talking to me. She moved on to find her next customer, and I got an article and a story out of it. We can all learn something from this.
I did a 3-part MasterClass series on why we fail to sell effectively. Listen to the first one, #1687: Why You Can’t Sell To Save Your Life [1 Of 3] here: http://DreAllDay.com/1687-