How To Charm Snakes, Herd Cats, Sell Beer
The craft beer industry, generally, is a no bullshit zone – people place a premium on sincerity, and can sniff out BS in a conversation as easily as DMS in beer. So how do those on the front lines sell their beer? The short answer: honestly.
I spent a day with Tyler Nelson, a District Manager for San Diego-based Green Flash Brewing Company. He’s been to the brewery twice, but that doesn’t really matter, because his job is to sell beer in the Southeast – mainly Alabama, Georgia and South Carolina – and he knows the area well.
A Georgia native, Tyler is young for his job – attaining it by making connections and learning the industry in a restaurant setting.
We start the day at Tyler’s apartment, where he reviews sales reports in a program called VIP, which is fed via distributors from Tyler’s hundreds of vendors across the Southeast.
VIP allows reps to track their progress to see what’s doing well and what isn’t, and helps them plan their day. Depending on the brewery they represent, reps can be required to track every waking moment of their day, or left to their own devices so long as they function productively.
Tyler is of the latter ilk, and has planned a whirlwind day full of meetings. We’re focusing on a hip part of Atlanta with a lot of taps per square mile, though some days could have him driving out of state or nowhere at all.
After a vital cup of coffee we’re off to our first appointment, a hopping local liquor store. Tyler knows from VIP that Green Flash case sales at this particular store are slightly down, and aims to address that with the beer buyer, who also happens to be a good friend.
Upon arrival, we beeline for the Green Flash, noting its location (too low, eye level is best for sales), and the lack of a “case stack”, which increases visibility, and therefore sales. Tyler also ensures bottles are facing forward and pulled to the front of the shelf. No task is too small when the image of the brand is at stake.
The meeting feels more like two friends hanging out, and when business is briefly tabled, it is informal, and the “asks” go over smoothly – better shelf positioning and a case stack in the near future. Whether these requests will be met has to be taken on faith, and is ultimately dependent on the strength of Tyler’s relationship with the decision maker. Before we go, he adds some “neckers,” or tags that hang off the neck of a bottle, to four-packs of their beer.
Our next meeting takes us to a restaurant/bar focused more on liquor than beer. We bring tidings of coasters, glassware, and a sample of Soul Style, a new IPA. It more or less sells itself, and Tyler adds a tap to his list.
Once again the meeting is friendly, and it becomes evident that these aren’t clients so much as symbiotic relationships in a microcosm of the craft beer community. So long as the beer sells, everyone benefits.
The day continues in a similar fashion. We stop for lunch at a nice Mexican joint, Elmyriachi, which has Soul Style on tap. We leave coasters and glassware in our wake, having helped the owner remove the labels before we go.
Many of our stops include relationship maintenance, which could include simply stopping in for a beer and keeping those in charge abreast of Green Flash’s new releases. No relationship is the same, and therefore every meeting is handled differently. He calls it “snake charming and herding cats.”
Herding cats may involve working with vendors in the same marketplace to ensure both have enough Green Flash stock to last the week, which happened later in the day. Before we arrived, the two businesses were hardly on speaking terms.
Snake charming is simply tailoring his song to a particular individual’s ear. Not every buyer is concerned with what hops are in the beer. They just want to know if it tastes good.
Tyler has another great aphorism for this: “Treat people like chess pieces, not checkers pieces, ‘which is to say – respect the individuality of the buyer, bartender, account, so forth.'”
Later in the day, we attempt to charm a fellow at a bar with 40-plus taps. It’s the equivalent of a cold call, but the amount of opportunity makes it a “honeyhole.” Tyler is brief, courteous, and the vendor is familiar and fairly jazzed on Green Flash beer already. He sets the stage for a tasting later in the week, and we’re out the door in five minutes with another potential customer.
We stop for more beers in more places, and everywhere we go Tyler runs into someone he knows. A local brewer, bar owner or fellow rep. They’re all friends, and talk shop between gulps of local brew.
By five o’ clock, we’ve zigzagged to ten different locations across Atlanta, I’ve shaken countless hands, and had a *few beers. But the day’s not over.
It’s American Craft Beer Week, and the renowned Brick Store Pub is hosting a Sour and Funk Fest. The place is packed and swarming with reps, buyers, brewers, and other industry notables. This is work, but also play. The beer flows. I’m hop-drowsy, but the handshaking, banter and story-swapping only increases.
A high tolerance is definitely a requirement for this job. A degree is not necessarily needed, but a degree of understanding in psychology, marketing, sales and good business practices is key. Having a taxi driver’s knowledge of the city doesn’t hurt either. The roads are rugged, the traffic rough, and we zip in and out of establishments at light speed, dropping off t-shirts and other goodies. Sometimes he just drops in to have a beer after hours on his own dime.
I highly doubt every beer rep would do this, and perhaps it’s not necessary, but it reflects the overall impression I get from hanging out with Tyler. He could just as easily be a marriage counselor: “Relationships are everything. You have to build them, foster and maintain them. It is important to always say what you mean and do what you say. Only promise things you can and will deliver.”
By seven o’ clock I’m *tipsy, exhausted and I throw in the towel. Tyler drops me off at my car, and promptly returns to the city. Though any job that requires drinking quality beer is a good one, being a beer rep is not a cakewalk.
Was this an average day in the life of a beer rep? Maybe a little more active than usual, but definitely not unrealistic. It’s a dynamic, rewarding job for an extrovert – the kind of person who can “make conversation with a lamppost”, which is how Tyler’s mother described him as a child.
By the end of the day, I had become the lamppost. Throughout the day I may very well have been a snake to be charmed and a cat to be herded, but it never felt that way.
Tyler’s a good salesman, but I think his real success comes from being genuine. In an industry where you share a pint or three with your competitors at the end of the day, there’s no other way to be.


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