“Love, like capitalism, is an illusion,” Robinson said to the publisher. “We’ll call the book Love = Capitalism so it appeals to women and the business folk. I’ll gather a few anecdotes and lay out the theory in simple chapters. We can even make the evidence up. There’s no use in actually going out into the world and researching real stories. There’s no time for that. There’s simply no budget. I understand that. I’ll get this rolling – draft to you by Thanksgiving, marketing post-Christmas and then we can put it out by Valentines Day.”
Jerry Wellner thoroughly patted down his beard as if there were a baby cockroach stuck underneath it. He wanted to make sure it was dead and, besides, the doctor told him to show less emotion in these meetings. Restraint is key for all samurais.
When Jerry was younger, he had a stoic face. Any business situation was like any other. Now he’s all emotional because his daughter got knocked up on the Jersey Shore, blamed it on drug abuse and opted for rehab. Now he’s out at least $20,000. Did you know they charge you extra for a detox hospital bill? Seems like that should be included with the base fee.
“It makes sense,” Jerry said while nodding his head slowly like his pitcher threw a perfect curve ball and made the count 2-2. “I can really envision the marketing plan. What about promotional stuff? Will you do talk shows? I’m sure Today would love this.”
Robinson “Cupid” Caruso was just Roger’s pen name, but it did the job. He really had no background in self-help, relationships or business. Truth be told, he was a pretty normal dude. He used to work at an advertising agency where all the Creatives sat atop beanbag chairs and drank vodka with the boss. Robinson took half an amphetamine before the meeting and was saving the other half in some spent cigarette foil on the lower rungs of his messenger bag.
“Today would be great. That’s what I’m sayin. We get it out to the world and they’ll eat it up. I hate to keep referencing the market research, but I mean…”
Jerry shuffled through Robinson’s papers again. The boy certainly knew how to use Excel – multicolored pie charts, bar graphs and ven diagrams that looked like Asian vaginas. We’re talking space age shit.
“The research doesn’t lie. Love is best viewed through the lens of business. Make every relationship good business. Keep it simple. Don’t let fantasy get in the way. This is harsh realism we’re talking. We’re talking 21st century shit.”
They both nodded and stood up simultaneously like the end of church.
The moral: a beautiful meeting can be just that.
