Marketing 101

Grrrr.. We're Bears!

Grrrr.. We're Bears!One of the (ever shrinking) good things about where I work is the fact that we’re in an interesting location. By interesting I mean, it’s never the same old same old. We’ve had it all… homeless bums fucking in the parking lot, homeless bums having heart attacks on our bus stop, guys rolling by the office trying to pick up the ladies out on their smoke break (“Hey baby, you workin?”), fist fights (Again, the homeless, usually), middle-aged white guys who dress like pimps, everything.

But usually I’m a, shall we say, passive bystander to all the fun. Today that changed, as I found myself sucked in, head first, into the madness that circles this place. I’m outside after lunch, minding my own business, when this guy (Latino, maybe late 30s, dressed business casual) walks up to me and asks for directions to another part of town. Okay, not that unusual, I give directions while outside smoking at least once a week. Usually they’re looking for the place that’s just around the corner, or maybe looking for the fastest way to get to I95. So I rattle off directions real quick, he says “OK, thanks!”, and adds “Here, let me give you my card.”.. and hands me a little business card sized manila envelope, then he walks off in the direction I pointed him. I shove the “card” in my pocket and go about my smoke break.

After I come inside, my curiosity starts to get the best of me. Why a business card in exchange for simple directions? He was dressed up, maybe some local politician type and he’s trolling for support at the same time as getting his directions? But if that was the case, wouldn’t he already know the area? Maybe a lawyer or something, just handing out cards trying to drum up business…. But why is the card in a sealed envelope? Who knows, but I’m gonna find out I figure.

So I take the envelope out of my pocket and look at it. It’s sealed… funky. It’s got “My Personal Card For You!” stamped on it. Stranger and stranger. Now I’m pondering foul play, but figure what the heck, nothing ventured nothing gained. I cautiously inspect the envelope. No strange white power falling out of it, no lumps or anything to indicate it’s anything other then a business card in there.. I slowly open the envelope, see that it doesn’t explode, and pull out what is, after all, a card:

Lets do it big guy!
You + Me = Good Times

AA
Phone
Email

What. The. Fuck. OK, so while I’m not exactly basking in the glow of excitement over this guys offer (after all, I am, straight, and married to a hot little piece of ass, erm, I mean, married to a sweet, loving wife..)… I am piqued by his method of operation. Small card, hand it out to objects of desire, see who bites. Does this work for him? Whats the follow-thru ratio on a project like this, what kind of “Cost per fuck” ratio are we looking at?

And more importantly, why couldn’t this entire idea be migrated out of the “Bear Chasing Gay Latino” Community and into the world at large? No more mindless bullshit, no idle conversation or small talk, see a girl you like, hand her a card and move on, she likes you, you fuck. She doesn’t, she throws the card out. Or even better, ladies get the cards. Lady sees a guy she’s interested in, tosses him card, he, being a guy, is always down for whatever, they go off and hook up.

We’re going to revolutionize the club singles scene here!

We just need a catchy name and a marketing plan.. someone get working on that.

A Valuable Lesson…

drowned rat

drowned ratToday I learned a valuable lesson.

When setting up your spiffy new pool filter, and arranging to fill it with DE powered the first time, when the instructions tell you to “attach your waste hose to the waste port of the filter, set filter to “Rinse” and turn on pump” there’s one little trick.

Make sure you SECURELY attach the waste hose to the waste port. Don’t just slide it on there all snug and say “That’ll hold”. Because when they say “RINSE” what they mean is “14 thousand gallons of water trying to ESCAPE FOR FREEDOM OUT THE WASTE PORT.” What the instructions should really say is “Attach waste hose to waste port, and BOLT THAT FUCKER ON TIGHT, get a wrench, a blowtorch, whatever it takes, but make sure it’s not going anywhere!”.

They way our pump/filter and power outlet are arranged, when you flip the switch for the power, you have to, in effect, turn your back on the filter itself. I unrolled the hose, slid it over the waste port, loaded the skimmer with the appropriate amount of DE, turned my back to the filter, flipped the switch, and BOOM. My ass end was suddenly assaulted with the force of a 1.5HP pump pushing massive amounts of water. The damn thing would have knocked me over, had it not been for our fence. I quickly shut the power off, but the damage was done, soaked from head to toe on my ass end, I was looking a bit like our friend over there, only I wasn’t in a sink at the time. 🙁

I’m sure it would have made for a really funny photo opportunity had the wife been here to witness it / snap evidence, Thankfully she was not. However the neighbors who were out playing with the children in their pool were not so amused when the big fat man slaving away in the sun suddenly shouted out “FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!” for the entire neighborhood to hear. (Hey, what can I say, My anus was suddenly attacked by a inch and a half diameter ravening stream of _COLD_ water, what else was going to say “Oh, please, may I have another?”).

At any rate, the filter is now charged, and happily circulating. The pool hath been shocked, dosed with algaecide, and looking *good*. The only thing left for tomorrow is to install the ladder, load up mister rubber ducky (Your so fine), drop the solar ball in the skimmer, and rock and roll.

Wooowho.