Amway Is A Shitty Experience

Thanks to Matty for sharing his Amway story!

Matty here. Although I haven’t “caught up” yet (I’m reading this blog from beginning to end), I just can’t wait to participate any longer! So here’s my first Amway story

A little background, first: in 1999, I was managing a little store at the Riverchase Galleria in Birmingham, Alabama. The “store” (it was actually more of a walk-in kiosk) was called “Successories”. (If you worked in any corporate environment in the 90s, you probably saw some of the products on the walls: A nice picture with some “Motivational” bullshit quote below - I think the company still exists, but I don’t think they have any stores anymore - I was 25 at the time).

Anyway, in ‘99, I was plotting to buy the store I managed. (We were the smallest store in our franchise, and our owner was based in St. Louis and had stores in Missouri and Kansas and ours was VERY far away, so our franchise owner was willing to sell). Now, due the very nature of the product I was selling, plus the fact that the store was in the middle of mall, I found myself engaged in conversations with passers-by on an almost daily basis - “Gee, it must be hard to NOT stay positive surrounded by all THIS stuff” is what I heard most commonly. And, believe it or not, I made some friends and even some contacts just from chatting with people. (In fact, the franchise owner wanted to sell to me for $150,000 and just through meeting people this way, I’d already put together $60,000 towards my ambition to buy the store)...and then THEY came.

One night, this *seemingly* very nice couple showed up and struck up a conversation. (Again, this was NOT unusual). I honestly can’t remember what we chatted about, but I’m POSITIVE I talked about trying to buy the store. At one point, the lady said, “We help people start their own business”. This got me VERY excited, as I thought, “THESE just might be the people that put me ‘over the top’!” So I agreed to meet with them at their house the following week. (Once again, this was NOT unusual for me - I had already raised some $$ in the same manner). So enough of “background”,!

So I go to their house with GREAT anticipation. I arrive and we all sit down at their dining-room table to talk. They offered me a choice of cranberry juice or something else I can’t recall (this was almost 20 years ago, after all), so I opted for the cranberry. As the lady brought my glass to me, she informed me (with WAAAY too much excitement) that, “We get this from our business!”

Now, I WISH I could say that this was the 1st Red Flag, but I was so anxious to buy this stupid store that I just thought, “Well, maybe they’re Importer/Exporters like Art Vandalay from ‘Seinfeld’“ (Again, I was 25, and 25-year-old guys are morons).

Anyway, I honestly don’t remember what we talked about, but I DO know that I was there for a solid two hours! Right around the 1:15 mark, he started drawing circles. Those GOD DAMN CIRCLES! “And the ‘umbrella’ Company at HEART of this...is...AMWAY!”, he said. My heart SANK. Even though it was a long time ago, this I DO recall: the WAY he said “Amway” was especially nauseating. It was part flourish/ part “1984” when Winston Smith flashed a look of optimism/admiration/glee when Big Brother was mentioned (HOW FITTING!).

Before I get to the FUNNY (just stick around, it’s gonna get FUNNY) I’ll go to the ANGER: These assholes KNEW - they fucking KNEW - that my ONLY desire was to buy the store I was managing - they KNEW IT - because that is PRECISELY what I told them when I met them in the mall! AND THEY DIDN’T CARE! ASSHOLES! SCAM ARTISTS!!!!

Now for the funny part: Now I know I’ve gone into FAR more detail than is needed, but I thought it was necessary, lest someone try to say that it’s not true. I ASSURE you everything I have said, and am about to say, is 100% TRUE: As I said, about 1:15 into this “meeting”, he drew the damn circles, so I IMMEDIATELY started plotting my escape. So I explained that my ambitions were to buy the store I was managing and wasn’t interested in anything else. So, of course, I had to “mentally spar” with him for a good 45 minutes while trying to get out of there.

Well, for about the last 30 minutes I was there, I began feeling a...disturbance in my stomach. I HAD to get out of there, because something very, VERY bad was going to happen, very, VERY soon. And as much as I disliked these people at this point, I am EXTREMELY shy about causing ARMAGEDDON in some strangers’ bathroom. So I got the hell out, and began heading home. Now, right down the street from their house was a Circle K - BUT - I have a TERRIBLE fear of gas station restrooms - so I thought I’d try to make it home (I lived about 30 minutes away). So I passed.
WELL, in order to get home, I had to take I-459. And then it started to rain. And I mean, the kind of rain that would provoke people into building goddamn ARKS. Just to give you an idea how hard the rain was: any normal day, if you are on I-459 in Birmingham, if you are not travelling at LEAST 75 mph, your ass WILL get run over. That night, I was going 35. I could hardly see, it was raining so hard. And as I’m poking down I-459, well, the only way I can describe the pain in my stomach is this: it felt like a giant hand was grasping my stomach as HARD AS IT COULD for a couple minutes, and then let go. RELIEF! And then the pain would return for a couple minutes. And then go away...It went on like this until I reached my exit off the interstate - and there’s a gas station - CLOSED! So I continue on, with The Pain coming and receding, coming and receding.

I FINALLY reach the gas station at the corner of my street - CLOSED! But I’m close enough I can make it home. By now, I should mention, the PAIN is SO BAD that I’m screaming when it comes, and *heavily* sighing when it recedes, AND sweating like Patrick Ewing during a playoff game. I FINALLY make it home. I park the car. The PAIN comes again. It goes away - I’m in the CLEAR!...and then I get out of the car and stand up...EXPLOSION. A combination of Nagasaki and Niagara Falls - and I didn’t give a damn. The RELIEF was SO GREAT that I just didn’t give a damn...I ended up just taking my pants off and leaving them in the pouring rain and went inside...So that was my first experience with Amway - shitting myself in the middle of a deluge.

I STILL blame it on the cranberry juice.

--Matty

 

 

Amway Emerald Faking It Till He Makes It

Thanks to one of our readers who shares a story about an Amway Emerald who’s bought into the fake it till you make it bullshit but didn’t turn out so good:

 

It is arrogance all around. I remember that my Upline Emerald in URA had just bought a house not long after I got out. Remember that Amway is supposed to save people time and money? Well, that’s another BS line with the amount of events that you have to attend.

So I remember that they bought this rundown house in Northern Virginia that was way over their budget and in much need of renovation. Hmm...I thought they were Emeralds and could afford some of the best of the best! (They’ve since sold their house which they probably couldn’t afford and moved to Georgia from what I hear because a) they had to get jobs again and b) they ran out of people to stalk and harass in Northern Virginia.)

But anyways, they would always get a prime parking spot during Sunday Night Phone Team at their then-Upline Emerald’s place. But when they hosted events (you know...those day long events where you’re stuck with the team when you’d rather be elsewhere) at their place, they would get Port-a-Pottys and nobody would be allowed in the house. How is that for hospitality?

Typical arrogance and entitlement.

 

How Dare You Park Your Car In MY Spot

I already covered in a previous post that I knew when we were getting close to that night’s Amway meeting by the clunker cars - circa 70’s and 80’s BMW’s and Cadillacs - parked on the street.

The meetings took place at different houses - whichever IBO that the Platinum decided had earned the privilege of his presence. A lot of the newer neighborhoods where IBO’s were renting have small driveways - fit two cars - and if the garage is full of storage stuff stockpiling overpriced shitty Amway products the residents park in the driveway and visitors/tenants have to park on the street. In these neighborhoods both sides of the streets are packed with cars. Multi car families or social butterflies with lots of visitors, who knows but sometimes we had to drive over a block away to find a spot. I live in an older neighborhood where the houses are on good sized lots and good sized driveways. I have one of the smaller driveways in the neighborhood because the house is closer to the street and I have a backyard, whereas most of the other houses are set further back from the road and they have huge front yards. I can park four cars in my driveway. Hardly anyone parks cars on our street unless there’s a big party going on somewhere, and even then our boulevards are wide enough that cars can park off the street without affecting traffic.

We had three Amway meetings at our house until the Platinum refused to do any more meetings here because none of our prospects ever showed up. For those three times Ambot made a huge deal that one parking spot in our driveway was reserved for the Platinum sack of shit or whoever was driving him because he didn’t always drive his own car. One time our arrogant prick sponsor got the last spot in our driveway. Ambot asked him to move his car out on the street so the Platinum could park there. Man was that fucker MAD! He screeched his piece of shit car out of our drive and put it on the street. Then he stomped back inside and glared at everyone. Ugly ass son of a bitch looked ANGRY for the next three hours that he was stuck at our house while the sack of shit Platinum droned out another bored plan.

At every house where an Amway meeting was being held the IBO held space in their driveway for the Platinum or his driver. Even when it was street parking only one IBO would get there early enough to get a parking spot near the house and when the Platinum arrived the IBO would move his car so the Platinum could park.

Our Platinum was often late for 8pm meetings. Not overly late, probably never more than 20 minutes. One time Ambot got the “privilege” of driving the sack of shit to a meeting and he told me what was up. Ambot arrived at the house on time but there was nobody outside waiting to greet the Platinum so he told Ambot to keep driving. Hunh? He needs a greeter? What does he think he is? The King of England? Yeah, probably! So Ambot is driving him around the neighborhood listening to the sack of shit rant about how nobody was outside waiting for him to arrive. Ambot made three passes in ten minutes and said the Platinum was just about to ask him to drive him home when somebody finally showed up in the driveway waiting for them.

So that was the main topic of the Platinum’s rant that evening. Its not so much that he wanted “anyone” out there waiting for him to drive up, it had to be at least a thousand pin or higher. Hmm. That would be kind of scarce in our group!

And if it was raining? An IBO had to be standing out there with a big umbrella waiting for the Platinum. I mean God help him if he got wet. I’m a little tougher. I can take the rain!

As I see it? Fucking Amway Platinums might melt in the rain but nothing stops Anna Banana!