When I was fresh out of college I got a job as a sales representative for a software development company. Everyone who worked for the company worked in the same office, so the people I'd come into contact with on a daily basis ranged from maintenance workers and admins, to programmers, designers and executives.
Counting me, there were three people in my department. Maria, the other rep on our sales team, was an attractive young woman in her early thirties with an hourglass figure. She always wore dresses that looked like they were painted on. Bailey, a mature woman in her late forties, was the department head and my immediate supervisor. She was long-ago divorced, reasonably attractive, and had a full figure. During my interview, Bailey confided that she had been a dancer on Broadway and had kept up her daily routine, which explained why her butt was so firm and she had a pair of dancer's legs that she had no qualms about displaying for the men in the office. Tight-fitting skirts and low-cut tops definitely were the staples of her business attire.
While Maria and I had to learn the ins and outs of our product line in order to do our own demos, Bailey always had one or more of the male programmers supporting her. The "boys," as we called them, all seemed to love working with Bailey, perhaps because her expense account always enabled her to buy them drinks or lunch. Or maybe it was something else.
"Bailey doesn't sell software," noted Maria. "She sells cleavage."
I knew exactly what she meant.
During the second half of this first year with the company, sales slowed down so badly, it looked like that all-important measure of success - making our quota - was kind of iffy. Then one day, Bailey emailed Maria and me to come to her office so that she could share her secret strategy for turning things around.
"We're going to schedule all of our sales presentations and meetings for Mondays," said Bailey. Maria and I nodded our heads in acknowledgement. "And from now on, none of us will wear underwear on Mondays."
There was a moment of dead silence. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Maria started to speak but Bailey held up her hand to stop her. "Look, girls, sales are so bad, the Powers that Be want to get rid of the three of us and bring in a new team. So, complaining to HR about what we're going to do will only get your job eliminated."
Neither Maria nor I wanted to lose our jobs, especially me. How would being fired after just six months on the job look on my resume? Not good at all.
Bailey continued. "So, I made a deal with the owners. I said we'd bring the prospects in on Mondays and up the ante - make it worth their while for them to do business with us. We'll use a little show of sex appeal to whet their appetites and see where that takes us."
While I fidgeted nervously in my seat, Maria spoke up. "Just business? Or are we supposed to do more to make the sale?"
Bailey smiled. "As always, that's up to you," she winked.
Maria and I got up to leave. Before we were out the door, Bailey spoke. "And one more thing. Since today is Monday, let's do a dry run. Please close my door and remain standing."
