Would you buy a bike off this man?

Selling bikes - like shooting fish in a barrel. But have you ever tried shooting fish in a barrel? Enter Luke Ponsford and his Browning Prestige 28" (over and under). Fish: 4 Luke: 0

Don't you just love window-shopping? I do. There's nothing better than a good browse, a good old perusal of things that you have absolutely no intention of purchasing. And what harm can it do? People who work
in shops are just doing their jobs, aren't they? They don't mind when you walk away. They don't feel like you've wasted their time. Nah, not at all.

Wrong. Here I am on the other side of the purchaser-seller fence. I'm trying to flog something - in this case a shiny new motorcycle - to a member of the public. This is a soul-destroying task. My customer, Daniel, is after a budget 600cc machine. He's just looking, he tells me. So I show him a nice spanking new Kawasaki ER-6n. With 650cc, ABS, a sensible 72bhp and a price tag of £4299 it should be just what he's after. "Yes, very nice," says Daniel. "But ideally I'd be looking to spend under £4000." So, I venture, if I could do an ER-6n for under that price right now, would he be interested in doing a deal today? "Very possibly," he says, looking a little nervous.

It's time to play my ace, for behind us is a non-ABS ER-6n. For the knockdown price of £3649. Daniel hovers around the bike for a few moments. My God, am I actually going to sell a motorcycle today? After only an hour on the shop floor? The answer is, of course, no. Young Daniel scurries out of the shop, mumbling something about "having to think about it". For him, this whole exercise has just been a bit of sport, but for me it's been a lot more serious. All that effort, all that smiling, all that dextrous badinage. It's been a total waste of time. Damn these window-shoppers.

Watford has never exactly been the epicentre of the known universe, but on this drizzly Saturday morning its main shopping street is a wasteland. And the same can be said for the inside of Lloyd Cooper Motorcycles, Hertfordshire's premier dealer of two-wheeled vehicles. Lots of bikes, lots of clothing and a full complement of staff, but bugger-all customers. Oh dear, it looks like I've picked a very bad day to try my luck as a motorcycle salesman. Sales manager Luke Gregory looks glum. "Normally by mid-morning we'll have sold 10 bikes," he confesses. "But so far today we've only shifted two over the phone. And a scooter."

I have a feeling I won't be adding to that tally. But there's a job to be done, so I dutifully don the blue Lloyd Cooper employee polo shirt and start to hang around the dealership, ready to pounce on any unsuspecting customers and use my unproven salesman skills to sell, sell, sell motorcycles. How hard can it be?
Well, after the whole sorry Daniel episode and my inability to sell a set of leathers to a middle-aged man from St Albans, I've come to the conclusion that it is hard. Really hard. Harder than Vinnie Jones on Viagra.

Especially in winter, when customers are thin on the ground. During the lunch break I grab a few words with Luke and salesman Alan Folkes. Maybe they can offer a few tips to help me shift some metal off the shop floor. First off, how do I spot the window-shoppers, the timewasters? "You can't really tell, unfortunately," says Luke. "We have regular timewasters who come in pretty much every other day but we're always polite. You never know, one day they might come in and buy a bike."

And this applies especially during the colder months, I would presume, as bike sales decline with the weather. "Absolutely," chips in Alan, pointing to a lime green ZX-10R sitting in the window. "That's the cheapest ZX-10R in the country: £2300 off list price, but we're having trouble selling them." That'll be the onset of winter, then. "Partly," says Luke, "but it's also because a lot of people are trading down from big bikes like Fireblades to 600cc sports models. The 600s are so good these days that many feel they don't need all the frantic power of a 1000cc machine." Factor in rising insurance, and it seems the days of the litre sports bike may be numbered.

It certainly looks that way this morning. The practical and slightly manly ER-6s are doing the best business for Lloyd Cooper at the moment. Combined with the sub-£4k price tag, they're flying out of the showroom.

Even in late October. But I haven't contributed to that success today. I've tried working on the parts desk as well, and in the workshop. But it's been a futile exercise. I've not been able to sell anything. Partly due to the fact that there haven't been many customers, but mostly its down to my sales technique. Or lack of it.

"The most important thing about being a salesman is you've got to be a people person," Alan tells me. "You've got to be able to strike up a conversation with someone and say 'what can I do for you?'" Well, that's me screwed. I have nothing but disdain for the general public. Speak to people? Be nice? Forget it. I'll leave that sort of thing to Luke and Alan. Although it must be a great feeling to actually sell a bike, being a salesman looks like it's far too hard. From now on, I'll stick to what I know best - window-shopping.