This past Friday at 10:00 AM, most of the remaining people at the company I had worked for the last five years and nine months were told to gather in the break room for a meeting. In attendance was the Senior VP and the Director of HR. They didn't beat around the bush. This was our last day. The downturn in sales that had been going on for well over two years had finally reached a breaking point and forced their hand.
We were given a 60 day severance package that included medical benefits for those who had them; we were allowed to return to our desks to gather any personal belongings we had; we said our goodbyes and wished each other the best; and that was it. A company that once employed thirty account managers, two sales managers, a general manager, a customer service supervisor, a tech support supervisor, a full-time trainer, a payroll manager, a secretary and ten warehouse associates, was now reduced to a company that employs three account managers, one sales support supervisor and three warehouse associates.
No one was surprised by what happened. The only surprise was that it didn't happen sooner. The place had become, for all intents and purposes, a morgue. People were leaving without being replaced; more than a third of the products we were selling had been discontinued, again with no replacements; it had been well over a year since any of us, save for one, had seen a commission check. And even that one account manager owed his good fortune to a single customer who was spending almost $50,000 a month. It was only a matter of time before even that well dried up. Things had gotten so bad, I literally dreaded Sunday evenings because I knew I had to go to work the next morning.
This was avoidable. This didn't have to happen. Five years ago, we were a company with $30 million in annual sales, a mere pittance compared to the $1.3 billion in combined sales from all six divisions. When we found out were were being purchased by another company, we were initially excited. Our former owners didn't appear to give a shit about us, so a change in scenery was considered a blessing from above, both by us and by our customers.
However, we soon discovered that the grass wasn't any greener on the other side of the fence. Within a few months, our new owners began a series of policy changes that left many of us scratching our heads. For no apparent reason we were split up into two groups: the first group would handle institutions like schools and hospitals, while the second would continue to take care of our core customers. I was in the latter group.
The account managers in the first group were forced to turn over hundreds of accounts to account managers who had no knowledge of those customers' needs or buying habits. This meant severing relationships that in some instances had been in place for a decade or more. If you've spent more than ten minutes in this business, you know sales is all about relationship building. It isn't enough to just have the best price and a good selection. Customers must be able to trust that you will take care of their needs. Once that trust is broken, the relationship is destroyed.
It didn't take long before the reassigned accounts began to wither and die. I remember telling my manager at the time that what the company was doing was a mistake. I got the sense she knew as much, but she had no choice. The decision was made by those at the top and there was nothing she could do to reverse it. Over a period of several months we went from achieving roughly 99 percent of our goal to barely hitting 80 percent. The damage had been done, but, astonishingly, our new owners weren't done.
For some strange reason that only they seemed to know, we decided to stop publishing a catalogue. Our last one came out in 2017. This was a radical departure. Ever since the company's founding in 1975, our customers could always count on having a catalogue they could turn to when they were on the road. It made purchasing products easier. Now that valuable tool was gone.
The next inexplicable decision that was made was to reduce our inventory. As I mentioned above, more than a third of the products we were selling were discontinued. These were products that our customers had come to depend on and they included items that were restricted and could not be purchased elsewhere. Adding insult to injury was the fact that we had gotten our customers to agree to purchase these items under the pretense that they, and they alone, would have exclusive rights to that territory. Now those very same customers were up a creek without a paddle. Bait and switch doesn't begin to do it justice.
When we inquired as to the motive behind the slashing of our inventory, the explanation we were given was that we weren't selling enough of it to justify keeping it in stock. Of course the problem with that logic, as anybody familiar with business knows all too well, is that when you cut back on your inventory because your sales are down, invariably customers don't respond by increasing their business with you; they respond by decreasing it. This in turn causes you to shrink your inventory even further, thus leading to less and less business. It's a vicious cycle that ultimately results in a company's demise.
And that is precisely what happened to us. We were slowly starved to death by owners that either didn't know the market they were playing in or were just too incompetent to run it in the first place. Either way, it's inexcusable and unforgivable. I've been in sales for almost a quarter of a century and I've never seen anything like what happened here.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying companies don't occasionally go out of business. They do. Hell I've even worked for a couple of them. Trust me, it sucks every time. But this was different. This was reckless and irresponsible on an epic level. The people who did this should be ashamed of themselves. They took a company with a rich heritage and a loyal customer base and within a few years, purposefully I believe, destroyed it. How they can live with themselves is beyond me.
Am I angry? You bet your ass I'm angry. Hell, I'm pissed. And not because I'm out of work. I've been unemployed before and I've always landed on my feet. I'm a survivor and I will survive this, trust me. And the people who were let go on Friday will also survive this and inevitably find other jobs. Of that I have no doubt.
I'm angry because if these owners had given a shit, if they had bothered to make the investment that was necessary, they could've accomplished something special here. There was a wealth of talent in this company; account managers with over 30 years experience in the field; customers who had been buying from the company since the '80s. I know, I had some of them. They were amazing customers who could've bought from anyone, but instead chose to buy from me. I will forever be grateful for their business and I sincerely wish them nothing but the best.
As for the clowns who drove this company into the ground, I have nothing but contempt in my heart for them. My faith teaches me that it is wrong to wish others harm, but it also teaches me that we reap what we sow. If that is the case, my only satisfaction will be in knowing that one day they will all have to answer for their actions.
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