Don't Judge a Book... Actually, Just Don't Judge

A young colleague and I were in a ride-share, heading into New York, and we began discussing the deal we were working on.

Tyler was asking questions about sales strategy (he’d only joined the firm three months before). I was explaining the importance of building trusted relationships with clients to be more effective in helping them solve their problems.

I couldn’t help but notice that the driver, an older African-American man, with dreadlocks piled high on his head, was frequently glancing in his rear-view mirror. He was obviously listening to the conversation. At one point, I noticed a wrinkling around his eyes. I couldn’t see his mouth, but I assumed he was smiling.

This was a multi-stop journey, so we dropped Tyler at his apartment, and then continued on to my hotel.

After Tyler got out, the driver said, “I hope that young man appreciates the fact that he has access to someone like you. You just gave him a wealth of information for nothing.” I mistook his accent as Jamaican. He corrected me. He was originally from Congo. His name was Maswamba.

I said, “Well, thank you, but that was just me babbling on as I often do with younger people. I like to coach them to be better in their roles.”

“But what you were saying to him was correct,” Maswamba said. “You don’t sell product, you sell yourself.”

I said, “That is absolutely true. You seem to have some background in sales.”

Maswamba laughed, “I was a salesman for 40 years at Unisys.”

“Really?” I said. “You sold for Unisys?” I tried to imagine if he had sported those dreadlocks when he was selling Unisys equipment in corporate America.

“Oh, yes, I sold a lot of big boxes. A lot. And the only reason I drive this car is because my son got sick of me being home all the time. This is only my third week.”

“And it gets you out to meet new people!” I joked.

Maswamba laughed again. We talked about sales, raising children and social issues until we got to my hotel. (We were so caught up in conversation, in fact, that he missed the turn instructions coming from his phone twice.)

I left the car, energized by the wonderful discussion we had. His initial appearance had set my perception of him in one direction. Once engaged, his easy manner and style confirmed what he said: he must have been a great salesman in his day.

I made a mental note, for the umpteenth time: don’t judge a book…

Actually, I thought, just don’t judge anyone. First impressions can be misleading, and it takes time to really understand what people are truly about. But take the time. It’s worth it.