Go home !
As long as I'm posting a link about Herbalife (at the end of my little story, here), I might as well share an experience I had when I was living in Armenia. Just as I was leaving the country in 1997, Herbalife was starting to invade the country. I was starting to see people walking about Yerevan wearing "Lose Weight Now! Ask Me How!" buttons on their lapels. It was a sad thing to see, since Armenia is already a very poor country and its citizens can ill afford to invest in Herbalife products.
Unfortunately I'm not a slim person, especially by Armenian standards. In fact, I'm what the Armenians would call tambulik', which is the kind expression-- pleasingly plump--, or chag' the unkind expression--fat. I was approached twice by Herbalife distributors within the space of a couple of weeks. The first time, it happened in my apartment complex.
One day, a neighbor stopped to talk to me. I didn't know this person, but I'm sure she knew me; I was, after all, the American. She told me that her daughter could help me with my problem. I looked at her in confusion. She said her daughter could help me lose weight. I instantly knew that her daughter was selling Herbalife, but I said I didn't understand. The woman started to explain, but I cut her off and said I wasn't interested. I was totally disgusted, even though I understood that she probably felt that she was helping me. Armenians are a lot blunter about telling people "the truth", even if it hurts. I think that's true of a lot of the former Soviet countries.
The next time it happened was on my 25th birthday. I was walking very briskly to meet some friends when a man stopped me. It wasn't uncommon for people to stop me to ask the time. Usually they did it to see how I answered, and they were shocked when I answered in Armenian. Anyway, the man who had stopped me on the street pulled out "before" and "after" pictures. I knew that he was also an Herbalife distributor! I blew him off as well, totally pissed that I was confronted yet again on my BIRTHDAY of all days!
I thought it was interesting to read the article written by this fellow, Rob, provided in the link that appears at the end of this story. One point that Rob brings up in his article is that Herbalife is not something that really sells itself. After all, how do you sell this product to someone without offending them? In America, it's awkward to suggest to someone that they need to lose weight, even if it's very obvious. If you're trying to sell them something like Herbalife, a product that's of questionable quality at best, your chances are slim to none, if you'll pardon the pun. I'm sure those people in Armenia saw me, figured that I had an obvious problem, they had an obvious solution, and surmised that I'd be overjoyed to have the opportunity to buy their product from them, whether or not it actually worked. What's more, as an American, they were certain I would have money. Uh... not as a Peace Corps Volunteer, but that's another rant.
I have no idea how many people in Armenia found success selling Herbalife products. I have no idea how many people in Armenia went broke(r) trying to sell Herbalife. Who knows how many unsuspecting people, especially rich Americans, were offended by their efforts. Rob's article highlights how people in this country and others are being duped by the "Work from Home" scam, although he's more upset about the ugly signs people post trying to get people to sign up as distributors. If you're interested in this topic, I hope you'll read his story and glean as much information from it as I did!
Link will take you to a different website.
Since I've been searching for employment, I've gotten a couple of calls and emails from Primerica, a "company" owned by Citigroup that signs people up to become independent financial advisors. I've gotten invitations to attend meetings where I can learn how I can make a lot of money helping people manage their money. The prospect of a career in finance doesn't interest me, so I've been ignoring the messages, but a friend of mine actually attended one of the meetings. He told me that in order to become "employed" by Primerica, he would have had to pay a hefty fee; then he would have had to recruit other people. Now, even if I liked selling things, the prospect of doing this for a living wouldn't appeal to me. But paying money to join up? This isn't a job opportunity, it's a business venture. And the chances of success in such a venture are virtually nil. Hearing about it made me remember an experience I had a few months out of college back in 1994.
I was living at home with my parents and they were nagging me to find a job and move out of their house. Believe me, I wanted to go as much as they wanted me gone. As I perused the want ads, I found two that looked promising--both were for "public relations" jobs. I called the number listed for the first ad and talked to a man who advised me to come in for an interview the next morning at 9:00am to "see if we liked each other". Hmm... that was easy enough, I thought to myself. I called the next number and talked to another man who advised me to show up for an interview at 1:00pm. He made sure to tell me to be certain I told the secretary that Kevin had sent me. Nothing seemed fishy to me as I went out shopping for a new suit and shoes.
The next morning, I got up early and drove to Richmond, Virginia, which is about 90 miles from my parents' home. I was early for my first appointment and the man I was to see didn't seem too happy to see me. He was of average height, slim, perhaps in his mid to late 30s, with dark hair and a receding hairline and small, dark, beady eyes. He told me to go get some coffee. I immediately thought he seemed like an asshole, but I figured I'd do what he said, even though I wasn't a coffee drinker at the time. The job paid $22,000 a year which seemed like a reasonable sum to hope for at that point in my life. I did have a degree in English, after all. What else are former English majors good for besides teaching? Quite a lot, I'd later find out, but I didn't know that back in 1994.
When I came back at 9:00am, there were several other people waiting. The man had us all fill out job applications, the standard kind that one might find at any private business. I filled mine out and looked around. We were in a strip mall and there were white boards all around. I started to get suspicious. Then the man herded us over to a cubed off area where we watched a video about the outfit for which we were applying to work. Apparently, it was some kind of club where people paid fees to join up and get special deals on furniture. I have since done some research and discovered that my interview was at United Consumer Club, which is now known as DirectBuy. Anyway, after the video, the asshole franchise owner got up and spoke about the position some more, telling us about how he and his wife owned and operated this business. I began to imagine what his wife must be like. I pitied her. This guy acted like a load that should have been swallowed.
The job we were applying for would require us to schmooze at parties and presentations and try to talk people into signing up. The man who was talking to us seemed shifty and slimy; moreover, his entire presentation was about money-- that is, making money for him. I didn't like him, but I still wanted a job. I decided to ask him a question when he interviewed me. Then I noticed that one or two people had already walked out of the presentation.
The dirtbag proprietor of what is now called DirectBuy called me back for my interview. He looked at me, took my resume, and asked, "Why should I hire you?"
And my reply to him was, "Uh, before we get started with this, I'd really like to ask you-- is this some kind of hard sell operation?"
The man fixed his hard little eyes on me and snapped impatiently, "I REALLY don't have time to answer your questions right now. Do you want to interview for this position or not?"
I said, "I really would like to ask a few questions first."
The man said, "Well, based on what I'm seeing, you're not going to be a suitable candidate for the job, then."
I said, "I guess you're right." I stood up, shook his hand, and left.
I had plenty of time to kill before the next appointment, which I was hoping would be better than the first. I went to a mall and called home on a pay phone. I had to tell my dad's hard-nosed employee, Deborah, about what happened because I couldn't believe it. The advertising had been so misleading. Boy was I in for a surprise. I hadn't seen anything yet. The first appointment was positively normal compared to the second, which seemed more akin to a three ring circus than a job interview.
At 1:00pm, I went to a slick looking office building at another part of town. I took the elevator to the top floor and entered an elegant looking office and told the receptionist I was there to see Kevin. She asked me to sign in and called him over to meet me. A tall, handsome, Nordic looking man in a suit appeared and escorted me into a conference room where several rows of chairs had been set up. He asked me to sit down, then asked me how much money I wanted to make. Still without a clue, I said "Low $20,000s." He just smiled at me. I noticed that there were a few other people sitting there. I started to feel uneasy, but I didn't feel comfortable leaving. Then I noticed a display board.
Then Karen took the helm. She showed us that ordinary breath spray is made with alcohol by spraying it into a flame. The alcohol caused the flame to torch out impressively. Then she did the same thing with water-based breath spray made by Equinox. The flame was doused in a second. Hmmm... not quite as impressive, but still worth looking at.
Karen and Kevin took turns telling us about how we'd make money signing up other people, and how they'd make money signing up people. I remember them telling us it wasn't a pyramid scheme. Only it was. At this writing, Equinox has been shut down and sued by more than six states for being an illegal pryramid scheme. Virginia is among those states.
Next came the videos. First, we learned about Bill Gouldd, the company's multi-millionaire founder. He lived in a huge mansion, drove expensive cars, spent time with beautiful women... and all of this and more could be ours if we sold his products. Gouldd himself had started out as a lowly salesman who had found the secret to success. We could learn the secrets by taking his seminars. The American dream could be ours by believing in the program and investing our money in Equinox.
Next, there was a video by Kenny Loggins, who told us of his wife and her many medical problems that were alleviated by alternative medicine, a healthy environment, and all natural products like those peddled by Equinox distributors. I have always enjoyed Kenny Loggins' music, but I have no idea why he got tangled up with this organization. It kind of makes me wonder what kind of person he is. Still, I have to admit that at the time I was really impressed... but still skeptical. I knew they were going to ask me for money and money was something I REALLY didn't have.
I noticed that there were people laughing at all the "right" times. It became clear to me after the video that there were, indeed, Equinox people interspersed in the audience to "help" the facilitators. The meeting was getting very long and bizarre... and towards the end, it seemed almost cultish. There were even a few people jumping up and dancing around, cheering, singing the praises of Equinox... very weird. Other distributors approached me and asked me what I thought. They were friendly, too friendly. I liked it and found myself trying to think of a way I could come up with the $500 I would need to get started. Thank God I have common sense, and that there was a healthy measure of it on hand that day. I could have landed in some real trouble.
Finally, as I was leaving, Kevin asked me if I wanted to sign up. He was very charismatic and I have to admit, I was still thinking about it. But that's what I told him. I said I had to think about it. He winked at me, as if he just knew he was God's gift to women. Then he said, "Well, if I don't hear from you in a couple of weeks, I'll give you a call..." As if perhaps I'd be waiting by the phone for the sound of his voice.
Thankfully, he never called and I was too afraid to risk borrowing money to get involved in Equinox. I hate selling things anyway, and the idea of trying to get people to join that program left me cold. But I have to admit, it was a sexy organization and the presentation was very seductive. I could have been sucked in. I can see how people might leave $60,000 jobs to go to work for multi-level marketing firms.
Recently, I read a book written by Robert Morgan Styler, a fellow former Peace Corps Volunteer, about his experience as a distributor for Equinox. I found the book fascinating and a quick, easy read. You can follow the link below to read a review of the book and order it yourself if you like.
Interested in learning about Amway? Check out this book.
Here's another interesting book on multi-level marketing.
For more information on the Equinox International multi-level marketing scam, please read this article on Rick Ross's website. When you're done, be sure to look over the rest of Rick's site! He's packed it with lots of great stuff.
