The 40-Mile-An-Hour Shoes: A Lesson in Transparency

When I was a kid, money didn’t exactly flow like a river in my household. What we did have, my parents watched closely…and they had good reason to. I was an active kid, always into something, and I grew like a weed. Shoes didn’t last long around me. I didn’t outgrow them, I tore through them. Hard. One pair of shoes at a time, and that pair had to work for everything…playing, school, whatever came up.

So when it was time for new shoes, it was serious business.

On this particular day, my mother took me to the shoe store, probably hoping for something sturdy enough to survive my wild ways. The salesman…who I remember as the Al Bundy type…led us to a pair of shoes that looked like they were built for a bricklayer, not an athletic kid with boundless energy. They were chunky, heavy, and let’s be real…Fn ugly. I wasn’t having it.

I fussed. I protested. But Al was ready. He leaned down and said something that stopped me cold:

“Don’t you know, kid? These are the special 40-mile-an-hour shoes.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, when you get home and strap these on, you’ll be able to run 40 miles an hour.”

He had my full attention now. “How fast do cars drive around your house?” he asked.

I thought about it. Cars didn’t ever go much faster than 20 or 25 on my street. My eyes lit up. I was sold.

“Wrap those babies up.”

The second we got home, I bolted to the sidewalk. Shoes on. Laces tied. Ready to break the speed limit. A car rolled by, and I launched into an all-out sprint like my life depended on it.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t dust that car. Not even close.

When I stopped, breathing like I’d just run a marathon, the realization hit me…hard. That salesman had lied to me. These weren’t 40-mile-an-hour shoes. They were just cheap, clunky shoes dressed up in a fantasy I bought into.

And man, was I mad. Mad at him, mad at myself, mad at those shoes.

But that moment stuck with me for a reason. It wasn’t just about the shoes. It was a lesson in trust…or more accurately, what happens when you break it.

Transparency at All Costs

I think back to that moment a lot, especially in sales. Because here’s the thing: most of us have a story like mine, where we got duped. And those experiences don’t just fade away. They shape us. They make us skeptical. We develop a radar for half-truths and too-good-to-be-true promises.

That salesman probably thought he was doing my mom a favor. She wanted durable shoes… I wanted excitement. He bridged the gap with a little white lie. But the cost of that lie was bigger than he probably realized.

In today’s world, getting “got” has become so common that it’s almost expected. Customers walk into transactions with their guard up, bracing for impact, because they’ve been burned before. Here’s the rub… when you operate with full transparency…even when it’s hard, you stand out. Not because you’re doing something extraordinary…but because you’re doing what should be the norm.

 Something as simple as honesty, something we all crave, is so rare that it can make you stand out like a sore thumb… in the best possible way.

The Long-Term Play

Sales built on tricks, talk tracks or exaggerations might work in the moment, but they’re not sustainable. Once someone realizes they’ve been misled, that trust is gone…and good luck getting it back. But when you approach sales with transparency, you’re not just closing deals…you’re planting seeds. You’re nurturing relationships that grow and compound over time.

The best salespeople aren’t the ones with the slickest pitches (or six packs). They’re the ones who can look a customer in the eye and say, “Here’s exactly what you’re getting. No more, no less.” Because when people realize you’re not trying to pull one over on them, they don’t just buy from you once…they come back. They tell their friends. They become your advocates.

In a world full of Al Bundy's in Capri pants selling 40-mile-an-hour shoes, the person who tells the truth will win every time. Not immediately, but eventually. And in business, eventually is what matters.

 The Lesson I Carry Forward

That day, I learned to be skeptical…to question the pitch, to test the claims. And while that lesson came at the cost of disappointment, it also shaped how I approach business today.

Transparency at all costs. Nothing less is sustainable.

We don’t need clever tricks to sell when we have honesty and long-term thinking on our side. That’s the secret to standing out, to building something that lasts. And that’s what people crave…whether they know it or not.

So, if you’re ever tempted to sell the 40-mile-an-hour shoes, think twice. You might win the day, but you’ll lose the trust. 

In the long run, trust is the only thing worth building.