After a long year since my last holiday, I was looking forward to a couple of weeks on the south coast of Portugal, Vilamoura, far from the reach of persistent spammers and irrelevant marketing campaigns served in all sorts of manner to bring me to part with my hard earned cash in the midst of the worst recession since, well, recessions began.
As I laid out my towel on the soft scorching sand I couldn’t help but think that I would never get away from it all unless I vacationed in the middle of the Amazon. As planes flew by at low altitude, every 5 minutes, trailing behind an ever increasing oversized promotional banner, I couldn’t but wonder what the deal was. “Oh look a competing mobile provider that offers the exact same pricing as mine yet presented in a just as confusing yet different manner – must go out and cancel my present subscription and incur all costs.” Hmm
A Chinese man with the saddest expression I’d seen in a long time, walked around, sweating profusely, offering a massage (yes massage) for 5€ (7 USD). I don’t know what worried me most – a massage from a sweaty guy who lacked any credibility or the fact that it cost only 5€. I could only imagine the outcome.
Intermittently, others sold iced drinks, sweet cakes with cream (cream in 30⁰ C – now there’s something to test your immune system just before the pandemic strikes) and dresses for ladies. How odd this all seemed.
How surprised I was to see a young lady, in bikini, selling, well, bikinis. The crowds began to close in on her as she smiled to the men (husbands = wallets) and helped the female onlookers slip into the immense variety of bikins available for the choosing. Even those less fortunate to fit themselves into the tight models were given a little help with squeezing those extra little pounds in.
When it came to the sell, the husbands who had been admiring her (physical) marketing skills tried the oldest trick in the book – “Oh I’m sorry, I only have credit cards – I never have cash on the beach”. Well, that’s ok – she had that covered too. Out came the portable battery/SMS payments machine (all credit cards accepted) and before he knew it – swipe. “Thanks very much”. The last attempt at being clever – “Could I have a receipt?” As if she’d have that right? You know the rest.
So, selling bikins at 50-70€ a pop and selling 30-50 a day which she claims (and from what I saw I believe her) – work it out. Still like your job? The finale was a business card with the address of her shop near Lisbon (Ericeira – near the beach) for those that wanted to maintain their loyalty. I enjoyed the whole show and the level of professionalism was frankly impressive. The only thing that ruined this was her need to dodge the beach patrol – so much for the validity of that receipt!
Taken using Nokia N95 but still prefer my groovy iPhone
