I became familiar with the idea of the “pyramid scheme” at a young age when the Amway phenomena engulfed my parents’ time and money. They attended the meetings, spend thousands on the products and worked tirelessly on the weekends and evenings to achieve a spot in the Amway millionaire club.
Needless to say, this never happened, and after three years of dedication, my parents admitted this was a mistake. The worst part? We were stuck with a home full of Amway brands. I could no longer use my Salon Selectives shampoo or my favorite Sea Breeze acne astringent. I was forced to convert to the cultish brand until we used everything in the house.
More than 11 years later, I’m certain my parents still have Amway streak-free glass cleaner stuffed under the sink, a vain reminder of the ultimate duping. Today I’m still mindful of the ever-present pyramid scheme, careful not to fall for the internet pop-ups and junk mail advertising a program that will help you earn enough to retire in a year.
Yes, I’m skeptical of that type of advertisement, but I was caught off-guard when it discretely appeared in a job search for “media jobs” via Careerbuilder.
Phoenix Marketing Group’s job description read, “Entry-level marketing and PR position available with successful advertising firm in downtown Phoenix.” I wasn’t letting this one get away, and my resume wasn’t getting lost in the stack of emails. I decided to be pro-active and call. Five minutes later, I had an interview for the next day.
I ironed my best button-up and made sure the crease in my slacks was straight. I arrived 20 minutes early with portfolio and notebook in hand. The office was in a small suite in a shady part of town, but I didn’t let it deter me. Six people sat in the waiting room. I watched as they went into the office and came out just 10 minutes later.
The director (we’ll call her Jane) called my name, and I entered a bare-boned room with eggshell wallpaper and a faint smell of Chinese take-out. Jane made the job sound fantastic.
“Do you love sports?” She asked.
“Because we represent some teams around here.”
“We have positions on both the PR and advertising teams, so you can decide what’s best for you,” she told me.
She invited me back for an interview the next day. Jane said to block-out most of the day, as I would be shadowing another employee to see what the job was like. Fair enough.
I arrived at 8 a.m. the next morning, along with nine other people. I was paired with a short, masculine (we’ll leave it at that), 23-year-old female with an attitude that read fraud. Before leaving with her in her car, I had to sign an agreement detailing that this was a trial day, and I would not be compensated. I should have run like my tail was on fire right then.
“We’ll be going to Gilbert today to meet with possible clients,” she told me.
Fantastic, I thought to myself. This sounds right up my alley. If you aren’t familiar with Phoenix, let me paint this picture for you. Gilbert is a suburb outside of the city, and it takes about one hour to make your way over there.
She parked the car on a side street and started to explain the “pitch.” We had Disney books for $10 that we had to sell.
“So do we already have prospective clients that we’ve called to tell them we’re coming to their business today?” I asked.
“Of course not,” she replied. “We just go door-to-door, but this isn’t sales really.”
Red flag. This isn’t sales? I thought to myself. I’m pretty sure it’s nothing else. Meanwhile, you’re asking me to walk up and down a bad side of town in my slacks and heels?
“We’re promoting out clients with their products,” she continued. “The more people that buy them, the better they look. It’s all a part of the business. I know it’s hard to understand, but you’ll catch on.”
Oh I’ve caught on. You brought me all the way out here so I can’t escape, so I have to do this.
“So, what’s the PR side of this? What PR position is offered?” I asked.
“Well, when you sell the product, you’re referring to the company, and that’s PR,” she said.
No genius, I’m afraid that’s not PR, not even a little bit.
So there I am, stuck in Gilbert with some girl I don’t know in shoes that aren’t built for comfort. Eight hours, several stores and not one sale later, she finally sits me down to tell me about “the program.” I’ve already decided this wasn’t my cup of tea. In fact, if I would have had a car, I would have been gone seven hours earlier.
She started out by saying the program wasn’t a pyramid scheme. Hmmm…then why even say that? To prove that it in fact wasn’t a PYRAMID, she drew the different levels vertically. Ah, so it’s not a scheme because the shape is different. Apparently I had the talent they were looking for, and in less than a year, I could be making $580,000 and run my own marketing firm. In fact, that’s what she’s earning, and she didn’t even have to go to college. Wow! What an opportunity!
Health insurance? A 401K? What about taxes and social security? The company offered nothing and paid you in cash. Shady? You decide for yourself.
“I just really don’t think this job is for me at all,” I told her while getting out of the car and fumbling for my keys.
“Yeah, I guess it just takes a confident person to do this job,” she said. “Some people just don’t have what it takes.”
Although sarcastic comments consumed my brain, I gripped my keys tighter and flicked my Border’s book club keychain, a therapeutic method I found myself doing when I had to just keep my mouth shut.
“You’re right,” I said as I walked away. “I’ve got tons more.”
