Read Online Grinding It Out by Ray Kroc - Free Book Online

Now … will you stay?”
    â€œThank you very much,” I said. “On that basis I’ll stay.”
    I felt several inches taller when I left that office. I’d won! This was going to be a fine prize to lay at Ethel’s feet.
    Of course, the implication of the whole affair was that I would have to work harder than ever and produce more sales for the company. I did it gladly. Clark never told me so, but I knew as time went on that he was well aware that he had made a good deal. We had other run-ins from time to time, usually because of my insistence on protecting my customers. Most of these people trusted me enough that when I went into their stores, they’d simply wave and smile and go on waiting on customers. I would go to their stockrooms and see what their supply of paper cups was like. If they needed more, I’d order them. For the big-volume customers, I made certain they didn’t lose by dealing with me instead of a competitor.
    I’d tell them, “Look, I think you’d better stock up on paper cups. I believe there’s going to be a price increase. I have nothing official, of course, or I wouldn’t be able to tell you about it. But there’s something in the wind, and I think your prices are going to be going up.”
    When Clark found out about that, he was madder than a hornet. But it didn’t cost Lily Tulip anything. They had warehouses full of cups made at the existing prices, and it certainly built goodwill among my customers.
    I had about fifteen salesmen working for me then, and we had a fine spirit of enthusiasm percolating among us. After work we would get together and talk shop, batting around ideas about how to sell more paper cups. That was fun. I loved to see one of these young fellows catch hold and grow in his job. It was the most rewarding thing I’d ever experienced. I wasn’t much older than any of them, and some were older than me. But I felt like a father to them.
    It got to the point in the office that I was generating too much business, too much paperwork, to be handled by the clerical pool, so Mr. Clark told me I should hire a secretary.
    â€œI suppose you’re right,” I said. “But I want a male secretary.”
    â€œYou what?”
    â€œI want a man. He might cost a little more at first, but if he’s any good at all, I’ll have him doing a lot of sales work in addition to administrative things. I have nothing against having a pretty girl around, but the job I have in mind would be much better handled by a man.”
    That set off another series of arguments and closed-door sessions. But finally I won my point. A young fellow named Marshall Reed came in off the street one day looking for a job. He’d gone to business school in California and had come to Chicago hoping to get work at a newspaper. That didn’t pan out, so he wandered into our office, and he was sent to me because the people out front knew that I was getting ready to place a classified ad for a male secretary. I liked Reed because he was honest and leveled with me from the start.
    â€œI can type 60 words a minute and take shorthand at 120 words a minute,” he told me solemnly, “but this is my first experience outside of school. I don’t know anything about your business.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll explain what I’m doing as we go along. If you have any questions, just ask me.”
    It wasn’t long before he was a real working member of my team. My decision to hire a male secretary paid off when I was hospitalized for a gall bladder operation and later for a goiter operation. Marshall worked between our office and my hospital room, and we kept things humming as briskly as when I was in the office every morning.
    We were doing well despite the depression. I had bought a Buick automobile, which I got secondhand for about the same price I would have had to pay for a new