Fifty years ago, as my ski instructor season was ending, my good friend Michel Duret had asked me if I would be interested in canvassing the various ski retail shops in and around Paris during the month of May.
I probably said “Why not?” since I had nothing to do during that period of time. He had a well established, older sales rep covering the Alps and neighboring cities like Lyon, Marseilles and the like, but no one in Paris at that time.
I remember having just purchased a Renault 12 station wagon and was a bit eager to hit the road with it. That car replaced the Citroen 2cv that I had been driving since I got my license at 18. I remember having purchased and installed a radio-cassette that would enable me to listen to plenty of music while I’d be on the road.I had been a couple of times to Paris but had no clue about driving in that crazy, big city, just a crude road map and no experience whatsoever in navigating that major metro area, not to mention carrying ski samples in the metro when I called on ski shop located in the heart of the City.
I remember that Michel had prepared half-a-dozen single ski samples in short lengths that were protected inside an elegant, long, black velvet sleeve. I really didn’t know much about ski aside from skiing on them from December to April, understood some of their construction rudiments passed along by my friend, but had no real clues about competitive products, their pricing and market positioning (the later being not even talked about in these days).
I had no idea either how “Ski Duret” stacked up in the mind and needs of ski retailers. Needless to say that I was woefully unprepared. For the entire time, I stayed in a hotel in the 12th Arrondissement and then sometimes driving around, but most of the time lugging my samples in the metro, I cold-called ski shops with a highly variable rate of success.
By that, I meant some refused to talk to me while some offered me a chance to make a case for the product I was selling, but I never, ever, wrote one single ski order. What I learned were tons of reasons why shop owners weren’t interested, nor needed my skis.
During the weekends, I visited my Parisian ski students to cheer me up. I think I stayed in the French capital at least four weeks and might have returned with much relief just before Ascension day that was on the 31 that year.
This said, I had a good time, Paris was lovely and as always, I’d like to say that I learned a lot in the process and realized that this experience might be part of my not-so-distant future, without being too sure about it.
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