I remember the first time a suburban auto-mechanic spat in my mouth and called me a precocious, idealistic child-boy. I was but 16 years of age, green as they come and eager to bring my predilection for dot-com success to my fellow blue-collars. I made my approach.
“Internets?” The portly greasemonkey grunted at me. “My customers don’t have internets. We’re just local folk.”
“Just local folk.” I couldn’t believe mine ears! Did this moribund carsmith really mean to imply that local folk aren’t on the internet? According to statistics, almost everyone is online!! Apparently this obtuse cromagnon dilettante had never heard of a little thing called AOL?
“Maybe you ain’t online,” I said. (I affect a low-tech but charming manner of speaking when I work with my local business clients, out of respect.) “But everybody else in this one-horse town is online, and you’s missin’ out on plenty’a business comin’ round these parts.”
“These parts?” He snarled. His fat shadow blotted out the sun. “What do you know about these parts?”
The truth was, I knew nothing. When he spat in my mouth, it tasted like failure and dogsweat. I swallowed his saliva to gain his wisdom, and hit the dusty trail once again.
Lesson learned: Idiots who don’t know about the internet are not worth my time!
Once I hit the pavement in the up-and-coming borough of Queens, NY, my business radar had been finely tuned. I found myself in Frank’s Wine Shop, face to face with Frank himself, who definitely knew the internet existed.
Here was my basic pitch:
- I’m a good guy. Ask anyone in South Brooklyn.
- I know the internet. This is well-documented in my hit webseries featuring my talent and charisma.
- I’m local. You call me at 4 A.M., I wake up my mother, we get in the car and drive over—I fix the site right then!
Frank was on board, and the rest is history. Done by Keithy is such a big success, I’ve had to hire workers from areas as far as New Delhi, Mumbai, and Darjeeling. How do I manage such a large and prosperous local business network? Stay tuned to Borfes for my expert advice and stories of humility—Or hey, why not like my Face?
Until next time, future visionaries —