First Impressions

Below is an excerpt from Leil Lowndes great book. How to Make Anyone Fall In Love With You.

TECHNIQUE #1:

DRESS FOR “THE KILL EVERYWHERE

Men, this does not mean you have to don your
three-piece suit to buy the newspaper. Women, it does
not mean you need to slap on three coats of mascara to
walk the dog. What it does mean is whenever you step
out the door, step out dressed to kill . . . your Quarry.

We get lazy about first impressions due to the reinforcement theory. Say you fix yourself up for the
kill. You go out to walk the dog three times, four times, looking like a traffic stopper, and nothing
happens.

So you say, “Hey, this doesn’t work.”

In my sales seminars, I tell participants that the average sale is not made until after the fifth sales call.
Give it some time. Can’t you wait five more dog-walks for your future beloved to say, “Nice doggy.
What’s his name? And, by the way, what’s yours?”

Stay Psychologically ”Fit to Kill”

Not only should you be physically ready, you must keep your mental doors open to let love walk in
. . . wherever you are. PLPS don’t just enter your life from parties and singles’ clubs.

Cindy is an attractive young manicurist who has been doing my nails for several years. (There must
be some drug in nail polish remover that dissolves women’s inhibitions and induces them to spill
every detail of their lives as they hold hands across the manicure table.) For months Cindy had been
griping to me that, in her line of work, all she meets is women.

I had a late appointment with Cindy one evening about six o’clock. She was telling me how, after a
long day of clipping, filing, and painting, she’s too tired to go out to singles’ bars to try to meet
someone. At about 6:45 P.M., the door opened behind Cindy’s back. We heard a deep male voice
say, “Excuse me, I know it’s terribly late. But is it possible to get a manicure?” I looked up over
Cindy’s shoulder and beheld a Greek god. (I had no idea such deities needed manicures!) Before I
could pull my jaw back up, Cindy, not even turning around, said, “Nope, we close in ten minutes.”

“How do ya like that?” she grumbled, keeping her gaze fixed on my hangnail as he walked out.
“Who does he think he is to march in here at this hour and expect a manicure?”

Then, Cindy’s ears, finely tuned to such trappings as expensive sports cars, heard a Jaguar revving
up outside her window. She jumped up to look, and there was her Adonis careening out of the
parking lot, and out of her life, forever in his sleek chariot. She didn’t stop kicking herself long
enough for me to respectfully suggest that one should keep one’s eyes open all the time for such
opportunities.

Top producers in the sales profession never stop prospecting in the dentist’s office, in the copy
shop, at the pizzeria. One salesman friend of mine clinched a multi million-dollar corporate insurance
deal with another nude man he met in his health club Jacuzzi. You can, as the old song says, “find a
million-dollar baby in a five-and-ten-cent store.”