This is the first story I ever heard Zig Ziglar tell. (It was a long time ago, we'll not talk about how long ago, but I will try to retell it as accurately as my memory allows!) Here goes:

"A new salesman in an insurance company constantly heard the other insurance agents talk about this rich old man who lived in a big, big house on a hill. They described him as a mean, awful, scary, stubborn, rude old recluse who treated salesmen very badly.The salesmen said they did not want to waste their time on him and did not have to put up with being treated badly. 'Besides,' they said, 'He's filthy rich and surely has all the insurance he needs.'

The new salesman was dangerously behind in his quota and needed to write a big policy - and fast. He decided to go out and "beat the bushes."

On his way to "beating the bushes" he passed by the big, big house on the hill. He looked up at the big, big house on the hill and thought how great it would be to write a policy for someone who could afford to live in a house like that.

Desperate, the salesman decided to take a chance and call on the mean, awful, scary, stubborn, rude old recluse. What was there to be afraid of? What did he have to lose? Well, his job if he didn't sell any policies. He knew his options were severely limited and he had to at least try to sell a policy, but he just couldn't bring himself to get out of the car. He sat and sat, terrified of going up and knocking on that door.

Finally, after about a half an hour the salesman dug up enough courage to get out of his car. With his heart pounding he trudged up the long driveway and knocked on the door.

A feeble old man opened the door.'Yeah? What do you want?' Long story short, the mean, awful, scary, stubborn, rude old man ended up purchasing policies valued at several million dollars.

As the salesman was leaving he turned back to the old man and asked him why he had not previously purchased updated policies. The old man replied simply, 'No one asked me.'"