One example I use when we teach the newbies about prejudging customers based on appearance is my famous Army Guy Sale.

When I worked in PC's, a rather scruffy-looking gentleman with rattily braided hair and threadbare Army fatigues emblazoned with all manner of Vietnam Vet, POW/MIA, and Airborne patches, carrying a largish bag, came wandering into the department. The manager asked me to keep an eye on him, as people toting bags into the store usually plan on stuffing something into them and taking off. So, being the good little alert salesperson I was, I asked the gentleman if he needed assistance. He did. He needed a joystick, a good flight sim, some paper and ink cartriges for his printer (he explained that he was writing a novel based on his experiences in Nam), and my recommendations on a few good games. Every game I recommended, he added to the pile. I guessed he was up to about $200 worth of computer gadgets. Raise alarm number two. I asked him if there was anything else he needed.

"Well," he mused, "I could use a new microwave...nothing fancy, just something to heat up burritos in..."

We added a cheap but decent microwave to the ticket. No extended warranty. Wouldn't hear of it. Raise alarm number three.

He went on to select a big-screen TV, a DSS system, and a whole new stereo system, as well as an armload of CD's. And the alarms started clanging in full force. He finally explained that the government had just given him some disability money, since he'd been exposed to Agent Orange, and to let him know when we got to ten grand.

The total: well over five grand. And he whipped out the checkbook. Great. "Sir, we've got to call the bank to verify funds on anything over five thousand," I fibbed, and he nodded.

"That's cool," he said. "I don't suppose I can get a chair?" He pulled a dollar bill out of the bag. "And could you get me a Coke?"

"Sure," I replied, going off to get the chair and the Coke. On the remote chance that this WAS legit, I would have stood on my head and spat wooden nickels if it'd keep the guy in the store. I returned with the chair and the Coke, and handed him the change.

"You keep it," he said. Well, great. Even if the guy got pissed off and left, I still got forty cents out of the deal.

Now the fun part began...calling to verify funds. The manager talked to the bank for a while, then to Telecheck, then to the bank again. Everything seemed kosher, but there was still that little cloud of doubt casting its shadow over the whole deal. Then Paulette (the manager) got an idea. "Does he want that TV delivered, and the DSS installed?" she asked. I didn't know. It hadn't occurred to me to ask. I sold computers, not video stuff. So out I went, to find him parked in front of the TV he'd selected, playing with the remote.

"Sir, do you want this stuff delivered?" I asked.

"You bet," came the reply.

I relayed this to Paulette, and she gave a whoop of joy. Rule Number One: If they want it delivered, it's legit. That, or the would-be perp is extremely stupid.

The check cleared. I helped load up the stereo and the microwave into a brand new shiny minivan. He had paid cash for it the day before. He gave me his business card--he was an artist. Kickass. A week later, he came back and bought about another grand worth of stuff. I cancelled my lunch to wait on this guy. I asked him how he liked his stuff, and he relayed the story of the previous weekend, when seventeen vets came over to his house to watch some football game or another and drink all his beer. Never saw him again after that.

The moral of the story: don't prejudge your customers. The guy with the Armani suit and the Rolex watch probably has a maxed-out gold card and four bucks in his pocket. The guy with the $10 sneakers from Payless and the ancient pickup truck may well have a fat wad of C-notes in his pocket. It's the "Big house, little car/big car, little house" theory at work.