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The Woman
By Jules | 27 July 2024 | 5 min. read
“She’s gorgeous,” you think to yourself, as your eyes land upon the most stunning woman you have ever seen in your life.
There she stands, in her full evening glory, casually conversing with the bartender. You notice a squadron of other men begin to gather around her, like hungry lions around a gazelle, and you ponder your next move.
How are you ever going to get her to notice you if she’s already surrounded by so many other suitors?
You decide to observe her, figure out what she likes, what she doesn’t like. For the better part of the next hour, you glance every now and then in her direction, taking note of what she’s drinking, how she’s talking (whatever you manage to eavesdrop from your distance), and how she reacts to various comments.
You figure that the cocktail she’s ordered thrice now must be her preferred, that she likes humorous conversation and tasteful jokes, and that she’s pretty carefree tonight and doesn’t want to think about anything serious.
After contemplating your approach for another round, you decide to make your move.
You start toward her.
You’re about to clear your throat when at that very moment a man bumps you aside and takes your place.
Slightly disoriented, you glance at the impertinent bastard. The slicked-back hair, $12,000 suit, and strong cologne are enough to give you an idea of what kind of guy he is—not just corporate, but corporate with arrogance.
You clench your jaw, reluctantly stepping back, but not too far back as you observe what happens. Naturally, the newcomer catches the woman’s attention and she turns to him with intrigue.
“Aren’t you the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he starts with a smirk. “How would you like to spend the rest of the evening with your future husband?”
She blinks. “Excuse me?”
“Well, a woman like you is just made for a man like me,” he goes on. “I’m the most highly paid executive in my company, extremely ambitious, and definitely an up-and-comer on the world stage. I have everything—except the perfect wife.”
He goes on to list his awards, his titles, and all the women he’s dated in the past who would just love to date him now if they could get him.
“How are you ever going to get her to notice you if she’s already surrounded by so many other suitors?
You decide to observe her, figure out what she likes, what she doesn’t like.”
You can’t help a chuckle at how much he’s botching his chance.
“Let me buy you a drink,” the man then announces, turning to the bartender. When he orders the most expensive single-malt, the very opposite of what you’ve seen her drinking that evening, your chuckle turns to a full-blown laugh.
You inadvertently catch both their attention.
“Is something funny?” the man asks, irritated.
“Oh, well, it depends,” you reply.
“Depends?” he presses, his irritation turning to annoyance.
“On whether you consider dancing ballet in the middle of a board meeting funny or not.”
He stares at you, surprised, while the woman giggles. Obviously she got your meaning and he didn’t.
“What?”
“I’m so sorry to interrupt this… lovely… conversation,” you go on, slipping past him and offering the woman your arm, “but I’m afraid I must correct a gross injustice.”
You turn to him with a sly smile.
“You see, tonight is Future Wives’ Night Off, the one night of the year when Future Wives don’t talk to their Future Husbands.”
“Oh, yes indeed,” the woman picks up with a grin. She takes your arm and turns briefly back to the other guy.
“I suppose I must be going then, ‘future husband,'” she mocks. You both chuckle as you take off, leaving the other guy there wondering what exactly happened.
The woman… is your client.
What does this mean for how you need to approach your marketing?