It's What's Up Front That CountsNotes From Wendel's Marketing World
by Wendel Potter
July 26, 2005
While out running errands with my youngest son over the weekend, I noticed a group of young boys in a parking lot armed with buckets and brushes. On a nearby corner stood two other boys holding up a cardboard sign for all the traffic to see: "CAR WASH -- FREE WILL DONATIONS."
Truthfully, it was the word "free" that caught my attention.
Unfortunately for those youngsters, business wasn't booming. And I had just washed my pickup a year ago. But, with my son along, this was an excellent opportunity for me to impart some of my vast business wisdom.
"It's all in the marketing strategy," I explained. "What those kids need is a surefire tactic, something that will lure the customer."
"What would you suggest?" my son asked.
"Suntanned babes in bikinis. They'd have vehicles lined up for blocks. And the free-will donations would be very generous indeed."
I told my son about my first brush with the business world. It was during a summer's hot spell when I was 10 or 11 years old. Foot traffic past our house was brisk and it occurred to me that those pedestrians must be thirsty.
Out of the toy closet I resurrected an old "soda fountain" play set. It consisted of three plastic bottles with bulbed tops that you pushed down to dispense your drink through a spigot. It even had a supply of paper cups.
So Mom made a pitcher of Kool-aid and I filled the plastic bottles. I set up a card table on the front lawn by the sidewalk and hung out a crudely drawn sign: Cold Drinks -- 3 Cents. Then I sat down in a lawn chair and waited for the passersby.
It wasn't long before I was doing a steady business -- and making a profit, considering that in 1963 a package of Kool-aid cost only a nickel and sugar and water weren't expensive, either. I was so confident that I even agreed to pay Mom 7 cents to cover all costs.
From there, it was skilled marketing and labor that paid off.
It didn't hurt, either, that my sister's boyfriend stopped by and gave me a dime and didn't even take a cold drink. And our neighbor, a widower who was retired from a successful insurance career, wandered down twice and paid me a quarter for the two cupfuls that he drank with obvious delight.
While sitting in the shade and watching my business flourish, I had an inspiration. Down on the corner a few houses away, a construction gang was preparing to tear up the pavement to make way for a new stretch of highway. Those hard working fellows looked all kinds of thirsty as they slaved away under the hot sun.
So I briefly closed up shop, and with some front money from Mom and a coaster wagon, I headed up the street to the grocery store and bought a case of cold Pepsi. When I returned, I made a new sign and I managed to catch the attention of the road workers.
One by one, they wandered up my way and bought one bottle of cola after the other. They drank them down fast and left the empty bottles so I returned them to the store for a refund, which meant I could buy another case of soft drinks at a reduced price. Plus, I was charging the road crew 15 cents a bottle, well more than I was paying for it.
"I did business like that for the rest of the week. It turned out to be a great little money-maker for a kid my age, even after I paid my employees."
"What employees?" my son asked.
"The two teenage sisters next door. I offered them a buck each to come over to my front yard and sunbathe in their bikinis. I told you, it's all in the marketing."
Copyright 2005 Wendel Potter
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