It was sunny and I was in a bad mood despite the immediate prospect of Popeye's red beans and rice. We were facing another night in Chattanooga with some treacherous kids from Detroit, and as I bit into the macaroni and cheese, the phone rang.
I had forgotten that I was in touch with Arby's. The idea was that I would get the Arby's hat tattooed on my forearm in exchange for a lifetime of free food. I would of course be willing to shine in my role as that dude from Arby's. I even know a person who can direct the commercials. Arby's is the finest fast food money can buy and I will stand by that or die trying to get free food.
I started my quest by calling a Chattanooga area Arby's. They were quite friendly and gave me the number for the regional manager. I left several psychotic messages detailing the sort of advertising campaign that could arise from me getting a snazzy new tattoo. My cohort even changed the message on his cellular phone to give the impression of me having an office.
Somehow this woman saw it fit to call me back and better yet, to give me the phone number of the head of marketing at Arby's. Of course I left my mac and cheese directly and went outside to dial up the future.
I called with the intention of selling this campaign as an antidote to what I see as a move towards the middle-age audience. I claimed that the current advertising wasn't swaying the college crowd and that I could help. I go to college.
I found that you should not tell the head of marketing for a corporation (even one like Arby's, which I would put on the same level as Saturn) that she is failing at her job.
As soon as I told her that she was aiming for the middle-aged crowd and ignoring the young image-conscious crowd she mentioned those damned Barry White commercials that insinuate sex and bacon. She also informed me that the buffalo wings are hitting the market that I was talking about, so there is little room for me between bacon and buffalo wings.
I told her that I knew quite a few people and that I am in a moderately successful rock band. Both of these were highly unsuccessful lies. When you are trying to impress people who live and die by the media, do not attempt to get them to think that you have indie cred., because Heatmiser never sold a sandwich or a car.
And so I hung up, leaving the head of marketing at Arby's largely unimpressed.
When she asked how many people I could reach I said about 200. When she asked how many people it takes for marketing to work, I guessed 10,000 and she was slightly stunned and said that I was exactly right. As I related this to my cohorts one of them mentioned that I can directly influence 10,000 people through the power of words. I called back armed with the fact that I write a column in the school newspaper and she warmed up to me a little. What she understood was that I want free food and that she is not in a position to give it to me. She may call back one of these days though.
I want free things and I will use this column as a device to get them and foremost among the free items, I lust for is a sandwich. And I already work at a sandwich shop. I will get a corporate logo tattooed onto my arm (especially such a cool-looking one) if it will render curly fries.
This is not wacky, it's practical, and I just want to show you that you can get through to the main office if you try. The shortest way to free is at the top.
scavenberry@hotmail.com.
