Buddy, can you spare a dime?
So I picked up my bookmarks from the printer yesterday and on my way home I decided to try my luck at the Chapters at John and Richmond. I had dinner plans, but I had an hour to spare. I also had a thousand bookmarks in my man-bag. I figured I had enough time to hand out a couple of hundred. I ended up staying for ninety minutes and handing out only twenty-five. It’s amazing how quickly one’s confidence can falter in the face of adversity. When I arrived at the store, I was glowing with excitement at the thought of giving away my brand new bookmarks and building up my website audience. My spine was ramrod straight and my lips turned up in an easy smile. Within minutes though, I had become a piece of gum on the side of the street. A piece of gum with one thousand bookmarks that nobody wants.
My plan was to stand outside Chapters and hand out bookmarks to people twenty-five years of age and over, who were leaving the store and who were carrying newly purchased books. Seems easy enough, doesn’t it? I handed out two bookmarks within two minutes of arriving. But then I realized it was just beginner’s luck. I got three rejections in quick succession. “No?” I thought, “Who wouldn’t want a free bookmark?” I was puzzled. Was it the way I was dressed? Did I look homeless? I thought I looked alright, but perhaps I should have shaved.
My fortune continued to deteriorate. People were not making eye contact. Book buyers were not interested in whatever they thought I was peddling. The other problem, I soon realized, was that few people actually seemed to be carrying books as they left the store. Maybe one-in-ten at best. Of those one-in-ten, maybe one-in-four was willing to taking my bookmark. My shoulders started to curl.
My mood was not helped by a trio of attractive women who were sitting at a nearby café. They kept glancing over at me, at least in my imagination. I no longer felt like a successful man embarking on a new path in my life. Rather I felt like the schmuck that I imagined they thought I was.
I also realized that I had made a huge strategic error in choosing this particular Chapters. The doorway to the store is recessed into the building and lines up cattycorner with the intersection. Directly in front of the doorway is an arch and supporting pillar. So when a person walks out of the store they cannot go straight, only left or right. I had to choose a side. At first, I rushed to try and catch individuals who walked in the opposite direction. I can now tell you from direct experience that you should never, ever run after a stranger with a bookmark in your hand — particularly if the first words out of your mouth are “excuse me, but…” They will never stop. You also feel like a real jerk.
I took a second look at my bookmarks. I realized that with their black and white color, and all that text, they probably looked like some home-printed pamphlet advocating Jesus or family planning. This perception was not helped by the feverish and desperate look in my eyes not to mention the phrase “We all have a Choice” in bold letters at the top of my bookmark. I decided to cover those words with my thumb. Now, anyone looking at the bookmarks in my hand would only see the cartoon pictures of me and the “READ” montage.
About halfway through my operation, I faced a new dilemma: competition. A station wagon — a station wagon? Good lord — pulled up and three kids and a supervising mom jumped out, holding boxes of chocolate bars and some signs about sick kids —or something to that effect. “Sick kids, my ass,” I thought, “This is my corner.” They did not hear my thoughts and started aggressively hounding my potential readers. I’m ashamed to say that I hated the little brown boy the most. He had a strong accent and was so aggressive, pestering people relentlessly with his chipmunk voice and sad brown eyes. As he harassed my fans, I could finally understand how personal adversity can bring out the racism in people. “Go back to Cuba, Elián,” I thought, in one of my more shameful moments.
I counted ten bookmarks still in my hand. If I got rid of them, that would bring the total disbursement to twenty-five. I vowed not to leave the corner until I had reached twenty-five. Luckily, human beings are adaptable and I slowly increased the acceptance rate. I learn from my mistakes.
For instance, I experimented with different opening lines. At first, I would say — or try to say, before they walked off: “Excuse me sir but would you like a bookmark?” They didn’t. So I modified it. In the end, for the guys I was saying: “Dude, can I give you a bookmark to go with that new book you just bought? It’s free!” For the girls, I said the same thing except instead of “dude” I would say, “Hiiiiii!”
I also modified my posture. Initially, I stood chest forward, bookmarks firmly held in my hand, like I was a tennis player waiting to return a serve. I changed my stance to that of a less threatening athlete: a golfer. I adopted their side stance, leaning against the concrete pillar a là James Dean.
In the end, it was the weather that saved me, as my readers huddled under the store’s entranceway arch to escape the rain. Except now they couldn’t escape me. I finished my quota and lugged my bookmarks home. Unfortunately the weather is sunny for the next few days. Perhaps I should come out with my own designer brand of suntan lotion, complete with details of my website. At least that way, my readers will also look young for their age.
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