I sit here with a view of Platinum Lace, Haymarket’s premier club, a grassed balcony, bar, dozens of places to sit and work and a dawning realisation that this means I need to get my new biz head on and go find some opportunities.
Having spent the last month hemorrhaging the Group’s money on the office build and despite running at a lean £18/sq. foot build cost (typical W1 Fit out = £40/sq. ft), my need to go and make some money is a big one. The impact of being a cost centre for a month has built up somewhat – I feel like Kim Kardashian. What can I be for?
So the plan is to reignite some old fires, pick up the phone and make some new friends. This week I have set some targets and it is show time. It’s not something that I hate doing, but the neediness of a cold-call feels so counter productive despite it being very successful for us in the past. I would much prefer to be humiliated publicly than told to tele-sail away. The fear harks back to the days I telesold Pentium II computer chips when I first came to London. 40 calls a day to all manner of computer shops trying to off load grey market PIIs – agonising. “Hi there, it’s Tim Scorer from R*%&$@ plc, do you have a moment? Where do you usually buy your processors from? At what price per unit? No; grey market is just like wholesale. What about memory? I’ve got some SDRAM going cheap?”
We need the business to continue to grow, the market for our brand of patient centricity is far from saturated. So tough, just get on with it. I tell myself. If you get a call from me, do bear in mind that it’s been a month of spending and I need to get back to looking myself in the face, amongst my selling pals. I sit opposite Jas now, and Jas has done a deal already this week, and it’s bigger than my Monday one. Frankly I’m feeling a little upstaged. Pass me that spreadsheet…