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6 Timeless Sales Lessons I Learnt Getting Kidnapped by Colombian Drug Dealers (this actually happened)

Author

Dan Pope
January 12, 2024

6 Timeless Sales Lessons I Learnt being Kidnapped by Colombian Drug Dealers (yep, this actually happened)

28 minutes till I was in serious danger. But right now. Yup, this very moment. Everything was good-good-good-wonderful-wonderful good. “Cabin Crew prepare for landing”. I polished the last of my beer. Glowing amber sunshine lit up the sea into a roaring sparkling silver and golf-ball white sky scrappers jumped up the sea and sun-kissed chubby dark green vistas. AA113 American Airlines Flight smoothly landed in Cartagena, Colombia. 12 minutes till danger. I collected my bags, smoothly. Sauntered through passport control, smoothly.

A chap with a big-boundless smile strapped across his hand bag brown—tanned face approached.

“Mi fwend, my fwend”. “Mi Pappi, my weelcaaam you to maaa caaantry pappi. My caaaatry, Columbiaaa, is boo-tifal Maaa’n”.

He offered me a cigarette. I took one. That just-arrived-on-holiday-excitement swarmed my body like a thousand-excited-toddlers opening-Christmas-presents. The first drag hurled into my body like charming incandescent race hounds. I took a second drag. Hopped in the cab.

Suddenly, things weren’t so smooth. The wailing, whipping, screaming sirens of fear rung. I remembered my friend Ollie, saying “Mate, whatever you do get a fucking UBER from the airport…don’t get a cab”.

The hot-rank stench of danger strangled me and crawled my bones like possessed red rattlesnakes. Cold sweat trickled down my hot cheeks. Hot panic turned my bones cold. This wasn’t a cab or an Uber, this was something else. Something far worse. Terrifyingly worse.

Next a random bloke jumped in the front seat. Thick gorilla neck like Miami sky scrappers in a fluorescent-highlighter yellow t shirt covered in dark green pools of sweat. His eyes beaming wet with poverty and cocaine. Then hopped in a short-fat little fuck. Maybe 50. Probably 55. Definitely under 5’4. Face looked like smushed Banana bread covered in angry acne. He stunk.


At first the drive was pleasant but the fear still lingered. Then they offered me coke. I politely said: “No gracias, I don’t do coke, thanks but I don’t do coke, please just take me to the hotel”.

Then the man’s face turned wretched coddled with anguish. He demanded all my money to be dropped off at the hotel. I thought. Here we go. Life flashing at an lightning-speed yet thundering-slowness. Absolutely fucking terrifying. The car was a banged up Toyota 4x4 covered in dust. It chugged down Cartagena backstreets: a wonderful fruit bowl of colour and bouncing oranges and jumping pinks, creamy blues and reds and yellows with dark browns and purples. Yet all this colour was poverty-licked and heat-drenched and crime-smothered. The roads were rough. Uneven. Shaky. The Toyota bounced and spasmed like a small boat in a big sea. I felt sick. Sick to the marrow.

He ordered me out the car. Grabbed me. Forced me into an ATM machine that smelled like steaming off custard curdled with cat sick. I’ll never forget that smell. His eyes were like pools of gorgeous chocolate with demonic sinister wetness to them. I’ll never, ever forget those eyes. Those demonic chocolate eyes. “Gringo, mi hav a family to look after, mi need million pesos”.

Violently he grabbed my hands and forced me into the ATM. My mind was erupting like neurotic fire works: “When will this fucking end? When will this just fucking end? Next, he dragged me to a liquor store. Sausages were cooking on the stove, a soul-penetratingly repugnant smell. He ordered me to buy him 12 bottles of liquor.

Inside, all I wanted was my Mum and Dad. Please. Please. Please. Please. Just take me back to back to the home counties, Surrey. GAIL’s Mocha. Pizza Express. Cold Guinness. Sloppy Guissepe, Romana Base. Bosom of safety.

Eventually and thankfully they returned me to my friend and offered me a chewing gum. Rando AF

Yep, this happened. Hands down the scariest moment of my life. But it also provided me with a few sales lessons.

Robert Cialdinis book, Influence - is an ABSOLUTE must, if you’re trying to master persuasion.

Let’s apply Cialdini to Colombian Drug Dealers who kidnapped me.

The 6 Principles of Persuasion by Robert Cialdini

  1. Liking = If people like you they’re more likely to say yes

  2. Reciprocity = People tend to return favours.

  3. Social Proof = People will do things that they see others doing.

  4. Commitment and Consistency = People want to be consistent. If they make a voluntary public commitment, they’ll follow through.

  5. Authority = People defer to experts and to those in positions of authority.

  6. Scarcity = People value things if they perceive them to be scarce.

Applying these to Colombian drug lords.

  1. Liking = If people like you they’re more likely to say yes

The taxi driver, had me hook line and sinker. He was telling me about how wonderful his country was, Saying he’ll look after me and show me the best spots in Cartagena. Immediately (and foolishly) I liked this guy and trusted him.

  1. Reciprocity = People tend to return favours.

He offered me a ciggy. I took one. Immediately and sub-consciously, I felt indebted to him. And would feel bad if I didn’t get in the cab.

  1. Social Proof = People will do things that they see others doing.

There were 100’s of other tourists not getting into UBERS and getting “normal” taxis. That influenced me. It made me think maybe it is okay to jump in a normal cab. Social proof is a weapon of influence.

  1. Commitment and Consistency = People want to be consistent. If they make a voluntary public commitment, they’ll follow through.

When I thought he was a cab driver and before knowing he was a corrupt drug dealer. Subconsciously, I’d made a commitment “ I told him I was would pay him to take me to the hotel”. I had to be consistent with that commitment.

  1. Authority = People defer to experts and to those in positions of authority.

Pretty obvious this one. 3 nutty drug dealers. They had the authority. I didn’t. I’m gunna listen.

  1. Scarcity = People value things if they perceive them to be scarce.

I had no other option. There were no other cab drivers once I was in the back. There was no other way to safety, other than compiling with these guys. Was fucking rough.

Thanks so much for reading this. Would be grateful if you could please share it with anyone who is struggling with sales.

Ta Ta - Bon Voyageee

Popey x

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