I’m the Jamberry Jerk
The Plan: 3 months. Become a Jamberry Jerk. Take reader suggestions. Track it all here.
For instance, suggest how I pitch to prospective customers, other tactics? We’ll see what happens.
For this to make sense, you need to know Jamberry is a multi-level marketing company for whom independent consultants peddle in vinyl nail wraps, lacquer, lotion, and the mlm dream of profit in your pjs. (P-Jammies?)
Yesterday I got some Jamples (Yeah, all the puns hurt at first, like a mini-stroke, then enough of your brain dies…) and went for a walk, determined to attract customers. After all, I was wearing my Jamberry nail wraps, and they do “sell themselves.” I’d been wearing them for a week, in fact, and they remained stuck to my nails and perfect which leads me to believe NASA is really behind the technology.
As an eye-catching prop, my infant son rode in a Zebra-patterned carrier on my front—my Jammed fingers, black and gold, placed strategically on his head to showcase their brilliance (passed off as maternal support).
We headed to the Denver Botanic Gardens for a coffee because I get a member discount. In December, the Denver Botanic Gardens look like your Mom’s dead tomato patch. Only other mothers with their children were wandering around desperate for signs of life.
I wore bright red sunglasses, a leather jacket, and high-heeled boots to resonate an air of success, sophistication, and sass.
The clerk at the Garden’s Deli seemed unimpressed and waited for my order. I touched my sunglasses, the counter, my chin. See look. Pretty nails…Ask me about my goddamn pretty nails!
I looked in my wallet, and pretended to mumble, “Oh, I won’t give you the 50 dollar bill, that would be rude!” And I pulled out a 20. See, look, I make money! Ask me how I make my goddamn money!
“Oh, I’m a member.” I said, referring to the Garden member discount.
“Sorry. I already rung you up.” The clerk said, eyeing me coldly.
The full-priced and burned coffee acquired, my son and I wobbled home. If I made this business work, I could get organic zebra fabric for him to suck on. My hip ached from the high-heeled boots and the 20-pound infant prop; My sunglasses smudged from all the grabbing and posing. I still had a Jample in my pocket.
Click here to help me pick the style to wear during my next adventure: The Denver International Airport! And how should I samples into all the flight attendents’ pockets?