Why You Don't Have What You Want
A story about how I closed my first big deal
Today, I will teach you how to close a deal.
Most of the time, you simply need to ask for what you want.
Let me show you how I learned that lesson the hard way.
(P.S. I really hope you read this whole story. I went down memory lane writing this one and I’m proud of it.)
LFG.🔥
How I Got Good At Sales
When I was 24, I worked for a company selling diabetic supplies.
I was newly sober, desperate, and had never worked a white collar job before, since most of my life had been spent cutting grass, framing houses, hanging drywall, and laying concrete.
I got a job in a phone room where I called 150 people a day, trying to convince them to buy diabetic supplies from us instead of whoever they were using before.
At first, I hated every second of it. But over time, that job became a blessing. I learned the value of getting hung up on repeatedly, and I discovered that sales isn’t really about what you offer, but how you make the other person feel.
Eventually, I got promoted to start selling catheters.
Selling catheters became a highlight of my life. Let me explain.
I sold urinary catheters. Yes, I sold little tubes that people used to help them urinate.
As strange as it sounds, I grew to love it.
Almost all of my customers were people with spinal injuries. One of my favorite customers was a kid named Mike who broke his back in a dirt bike accident. He was 26. Mike still drove, he had a girlfriend, and he was one of the most pleasant people I ever had the privilege of speaking to.
Working with those people was a privilege. It was rewarding, humbling, and extremely profitable.
Why Are Catheters So Profitable?
Twenty years ago, Medicare would not pay for more than one catheter a day. It’s a shameful aspect of our healthcare system. Medicare expected people to use the same catheter four to six times a day to relieve themselves.
Eventually, Medicare realized they were spending far more money treating infections than they would have spent simply providing fresh catheters each time.
So overnight, you could charge Medicare about twelve dollars per catheter. Medicare would reimburse six catheters a day. That’s twenty six thousand dollars a year per patient.
You do the math.
But the money wasn’t just in volume.
Some men and women who had been using catheters for years were very prone to infections. These infections could become life threatening, so avoiding them was critical for both the patient and Medicare. If an infection required surgery, Medicare would have to cover the cost.
These people needed what we called “closed system catheters.” The catheter was sealed inside a bag and coated in an antibiotic solution. The patient would insert the tip of the bag, then push the catheter through it. The catheter was never exposed to air or bacteria, and the urine drained directly into the bag. When finished, the patient would pull the catheter out.
Closing a patient who needed six closed system catheters a day meant real money. Those closed systems were far more profitable. A closed system patient was a big deal.
At the time, I was broke, skinny, malnourished, and willing to do whatever it took.
This was when I had my breakthrough.
The Toughest Close I Ever Had (Still Till This Day)
Over time, I got good enough that the people who owned the call center started to trust me. They even bought me my first iPhone, which is why I still have that awful 561 area code. Till this day, I so regret giving up my 215 area code.
I digress.
My Uncle Sean was, and still is, a regional sales manager for a company that sells grout. I was nervous and insecure back then, so I called him often for advice.
He would always give me pointers, and at the end of every call, he would say, “Tim, don’t forget to ask for the sale.”
He told me most people spend all their time pitching and talking, but when it comes time to close, they never actually ask.
He said it over and over: “Always ask for the sale.”
One day, we got a lead from a potential patient who lived in Boca. I forget his name, but it was his daughter who called us. Let’s call him Richard. She told me he had been hit by a drunk driver and was paralyzed.
She warned me that Richard was grumpy and hard to talk to but something happened with his old supplier and he needed new catheters. She asked if I would go to the house to present the products, and I agreed.
Still, I was determined to prove myself.
I’ll never forget the tone in her voice when I said yes. She sighed and said, “Okaaaay,” in that way that means, “You have no idea what you’re walking into.”
I didn’t have a car, so I borrowed my boss’s and drove to Richard’s house. I knocked, and he yelled for me to come in.
Richard was in a wheelchair. He was big, muscular, and sharp. He had a beautiful home. He had been a bodybuilder who sold a database company and made millions. He told me he was walking home with his daughter after her college graduation when he got hit by a drunk driver.
Richard was also mean, or at least that how he presented himself to me when he first met me.
I sat down and showed him the closed system catheter. He could tell I was nervous and said, “Do you even know what you’re talking about? I know more about that shit than you do.”
And he was right. I had never done an in person pitch before, let alone inside a millionaire’s home.
After a while, he warmed up. We sat at his kitchen table, and he showed me the website of the company he sold. He showed me pictures of his daughter and made a bunch of inappropriate jokes about women.
I was there for an hour. I think he just wanted someone to talk to.
As I was leaving, I thanked him for his time and started walking to the door. Then I heard my uncle’s voice in my head.
I stopped, turned around, and somehow built up the courage to ask.
I said, “Richard, will you sign up to work with my company? I’ll bring your catheters over to your house every month myself. I promise I’ll take care of you.”
He looked at me and said, “Yeah kid, no problem. Thanks for coming over.”
It felt like the world stopped for a second.
And just like that, I closed my first big deal.
You Get What You Ask For
I spoke to Richard every few weeks. I really did use my boss’s car every month to deliver his catheters. He kept telling me dirty jokes, and I was always happy to see him.
He told me about going to the Mets games with his parents as a kid, and I told him that the Mets suck and I told him about going to the World Series parade when the Phillies won the world series. This was in 2011, so the parade was still fresh for me.
It was great.
When I left that job, I was sad I wouldn’t get to talk to Mike or Richard anymore. I still wonder what they’re doing now.
That experience taught me that the fear of asking is always worse than the act itself. The worst that can happen is they say no. If you get rejected, you won’t die.
If you want something, you must ask for it.
Richard helped me close my first real sale. I made about four hundred dollars a month in commission from that deal. At the time, it felt like the biggest accomplishment of my life.
Now I’m a multimillionaire.
Thanks Richard. I hope you’re doing well. And I hope you’re still telling dirty jokes.
Love you guys. Talk to you tomorrow.
Tim
I’ll Teach You How To Build A Seven Figure Business
If there’s one lesson I’ve learned from my life as an entrepreneur, it’s this.
ENTREPRENUERSHIP IS NOT COMPLICATED.
Internet gurus love to talk about “frameworks, secrets, and insights.” The reality is that every business follows the same exact process in order to generate sales, build internal systems, and scale.
I have broken this process down into six steps, which I call The Machine Method.
If you’re serious about starting an online business, I will guide you on your quest to seven figures.
Welcome to the machine. 🤖



Sounds simple, is often overlooked, shockingly overlooked or just not done by most, but applies to all areas of our lives. You gotta ask. Great, GREAT post and reminder. Thanks for writing this.
Awesome story! Thanks for sharing it. Reminded me of how as a new immigrant I sold wholesale diamonds to jewelry stores. I hated it but learned diligence.