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On 17-4-2009 23:14, Shay wrote:
> I've got a problem. I'm only at my best when I'm hateful.
>
> I just got back from a concert my wife and I sponsored to promote her
> candle company (more of a hobby so far). I got to the door with free
> incense samples I intended to pass out, and the door guy doesn't want to
> let me in with them. I repeatedly showed him the name of the company on
> the ticket - right under where it said "presented by" - and showed him
> that the name matched the name on the business cards attached to the
> incense, but he only repeated, "That's just a ticket. Everyone's got
> one." No shit, you moron. Did everyone pay a thousand bucks to "present"
> the show?
>
> Finally got through the door with the samples and relaxed a bit. This
> was a chance for me to not only let people smell the product and get
> names for the mailing list, but to make an impression for the company. I
> did my best to "work the room," only half-faking my cheerful attitude. I
> did all right, but people were a bit cool to me. Some didn't even want
> the free samples and several did not want to sign the mailing list.
>
> I had to stop after passing out half of the samples because the first
> band started. The band sucked (a string quartet dressed as mermaids and
> pirates - no shit), the crowd sucked (meaning I'm probably out a good
> portion of my $1k investment), and my mood began to sour. I started to
> get more and more upset about the idiot at the door and couldn't wait to
> pass out the rest of the samples and get the Hell out of there.
>
> After the band had stopped, I went around the room again. This time my
> cheerful attitude was ENTIRELY faked. At one point, seeing no new faces,
> I reported to my wife that I had "sucked every d*** in the room." This
> fake me was better, however. People were very receptive and asking
> questions, and even large groups were taking the time to pass the list
> around so that every person could "sign" it. One of the girls with whom
> I spoke (and she was a serious sex-bomb) came behind me a few minutes
> later, said she wanted to tip me, and stuffed a five dollar bill into my
> back pocket - I swear it's true. My wife didn't like it, but denied
> being jealous when her friends teased her about it.
>
> So, once again, the nice, happy me loses out to the aggravated me. It
> happens every time. I HATED waiting tables, but I made better tips than
> anyone in the restaurant. I really believed in products I sold
> door-to-door, but failed at selling them. I never thrive in environments
> where I'm happy, but I can cajole and/or intimidate people I despise
> into doing just about anything.
>
> -Shay
Moral of this story: if you want to get anybodies attention, go to a
very bad party so you'll be the best entertainment of the evening.
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