Take my card
Someone at my work decided that I should have a business card, so I got business cards. Lots of ‘em. Know what that means? I’m a professional. I made it. I’m legit. I have a job in which people might be interested enough after meeting me to want to contact me at work. I can rub elbows at business events. I can say, “Yes, give me a call. Here’s my card.” I’m a business woman.
Know what this really means?
I can win free lunches by dropping my business card into fishbowls at my favorite restaurants. Now that I am the master of winning radio contests, I’m going to move on. My new mission is to innundate the fishbowls around Gainesville with my business card.
I always thought it would be cool to have business cards. Very have-your-people-call-my-people. I’m there now. I will no longer be speaking to my friends via phone. But your people can call my people, and my people will pass along the message.
Maybe I should have gotten people before I got the cards.
You know what is uncool? Making your own business cards – especially the ones with the perforated edges. They always have an I-printed-these-at-home quality and a shoddy piece of clip art in the corner. The font size usually looks a little wrong, and the print has the streaky look. I don’t know what is sadder…having a business card with perforated edges, or having a business card for the sole purpose of winning free lunches.
Who cares. Here, take my card. Have your people call my people. We’ll do lunch.
2 Comments:
I'm offended. I print my own business cards. What if I don't have $50 to throw at a ridiculous quantity of business cards that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to use? I printed them on the highest photo-quality setting, I used the "clean-edge" print-your-own-business-card sheets, and I also trimmed anything off the cards that made them look homemade. True, they don't have the weight or embossed effect that expensive business cards have, but hey, it's a start.
I will have Tanner and Faith write me up some cards. They will have dinosaurs and rainbows and really bad kiddy scissor edges. Should I have them say Mom or Domestic Manager? Maybe M.O.M. , Manager of Motherhood. Or M.O.T.H.E.R. Manager Of The Home's Every Resident, ahh the possibilities...
Since my people are little people, they aren't allowed to call your big people, not on a real phone anyway.
Congratulations on the business cards, your brother felt cool when he got his too.
I really like reading your blogs, keep em going!
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