They set you up to fail
I worked at TAG for about two months. And it was some of the most frustrating, soul-crushing work I've ever done. You are told of all the lavish bonuses and perks available to those who manage to succeed in the business, without any mention (until you're already in their employ) of the various obstacles they put in place to make it as hard as possible for you to actually satisfy their lofty goals.
The campaign that I was assigned to was for Quill office supplies. Basically you'd go into a business (but only specific businesses; more on that in a bit) and try to get them to sign up for an account by ordering something from their catalog, like printer paper or copy machine toner. Everybody uses printer paper and toner, so selling those items to office managers at what you're told is a rock-bottom price should be a breeze, right? Well, except for the fact that they probably already have boxes upon boxes of paper and toner in a supply closet somewhere, and don't need anymore. Thus your trump card is gone, and you probably have 10 seconds at most to convince them to buy anything before they say something along the lines of "I really have better things to do with my time than listen to a traveling salesman. Please show yourself out before I call security."
And in case you're thinking that I was being facetious, you are indeed a traveling salesman. You are expected to drive to your assigned territory, park somewhere that won't ticket you for being there all day, and walk several miles down the sidewalks of that territory in order to find a business that will take enough pity on you to order something from the phone book-sized catalog you're lugging the whole time. But don't think you can just waltz into any storefront, sell a stapler, and book some commission. No sir. Entire categories of businesses are deemed off-limits. Any place that could be considered a "credit risk" - auto dealerships, nail salons, etc., are not kosher to The Ad Group. You could sell them thousands of dollars of generic office equipment and you won't see a dime of the sale because those businesses apparently have credit cooties. And just to make things even more difficult, the businesses that are deemed appropriate to sell to must have a minimum number of employees, because apparently they don't want to waste the printing cost of a catalog on a doctor's office that only has five employees rather than the six they mandate. And of course, if they're already customers with Quill, then you're not going to get paid for placing their next order for them.
If you do manage to coax an office manager into ordering something, they add yet another hurdle by making the ordering process as long and as complicated as possible. You actually have to call the 1-800 ordering number and read everything off the order form to the operator on the other end of the phone. Why, in an era where anything can be ordered in a matter of seconds by going on a website and typing in a shipping address, one would be expected to sit through a 10-minute phone call to do the same thing is anyone's guess. And naturally, the longer the call goes, the more likely said office manager is going to say, "You know what, I'll just do this online." Thus, Quill still gets the sale, but you won't get anything for it. And don't think you can give them a business card or any other way to contact you personally if they have questions or want to look over the catalog before they place their order. Business cards are expressly prohibited - instead, the companies you talk to are expected to call the TAG office so that they can tell you to go back to a certain business and place an order for them - even if you went there last week and are now in a new territory that's an hour's drive away.
I've gone this long into my rant, and I haven't even gone into the office environment yet. Suffice to say that it's high pressure. Mornings are spent practicing your sales pitch in one way or another - whether you're starting out and practicing your pitch to businesses to order from you (including ways to get past security guards or "No Soliciting" signs), or you're a so-called "leader" and you're working on your pitch to get a new recruit to join the team. At night, you're settling up your order forms and trying to motivate everyone else. Rest assured, if you're not pulling your weight in the numbers department, you'll hear about it. Not just from Jaime, but from all the other "leaders" who have already drunk so much of the Kool-Aid that their teeth are purple. Did I mention that you're expected to show up at 7:00 in the morning, and typically don't leave until 6:30 at night - and then get to drive home from an office that's situated right smack dab in the middle of West LA? Between driving time, office time, and field time, you can expect to devote a good 14 hours a day to this company - and chances are good you'll have little if anything to show for it.
We're not done. As a way to infiltrate as much area as possible, leaders are encouraged to take trainees on "road trips" - week-long excursions to areas 50 to 100 miles away from headquarters where businesses don't get pestered by traveling salespeople as often and so are less likely to toss you out on your ear the moment you walk up to the receptionist's desk. Of course, the company takes good care of a team that goes out on the road, putting them up in a decent hotel and giving them a per diem for food and gas, right? Wrong. Any expenses a leader spends on putting together a road trip come out of their pocket, and so it's a given that they'll look for ways to cut corners. I was forced to go on a road trip to Bakersfield when my sales were getting dangerously low, and we ended up staying at the house where the organizer's mom lived. (I'm just lucky I had my own room.)
Now, to be fair, I likely would not do very well in a sales environment to begin with. I'm not a salesperson by nature. I couldn't, with a clear conscience, sell things that the people I talked to were clearly not interested in. But The Ad Group is not so much a sales force as it is a cult of personality. Overachievers are recruited by the score to participate in a weird corporate boot camp, commanded to generate profits for themselves and their boss despite several ridiculous and artificial obstacles placed in front of them, and then terminated at the first sign of burnout. Even if you really are the sort of person who wants to be your own boss and are willing to put in the effort to accomplish that goal, the shadiness of The Ad Group's business practices should discourage anyone who knows what they're getting into from joining up.
