How Not to Bomb a Garage

Through my small but storied life as a salsa dancer and wannabe latin promoter, I’ve experienced a lot of situations that most people will never face. As any promoter can tell you, no matter how much you plan ahead, when you’re putting on an event, anything that can go wrong WILL go wrong. Five minutes before showtime.

Part of me loves that rush. The thrill of having to think on your feet. Down by six, fourth and inches, no time on the clock. I think there is a part of every promoter that likes riding that edge. But sometimes situations can get out of hand, and they progress to the point that you're no longer worried about messing up, you're more worried about being messed up. Physically. Legally. Financially.

For instance, when I was just a rookie, I was promoting a workshop here in Hawaii. It was a big out of town act that I was flying in special for the occassion, and I had a lot of money sunk into it. So, I was really pushing hard. One night, I had my crew canvas a parking garage. Now, I had a feeling that the lot was off limits, but I didn’t know for sure, and I figured, WTF, I want bodies in the door, and the bodies that I want drive the cars in this garage. Hit ‘em up! So I gave the order and my team went to work. The execution was flawless. We hit five floors of cars in about 10 minutes without anyone saying a thing.

That is, until the next day.

I was at work, sitting at my desk, browsing the web with one eye, and using the other to scan for my boss – kinda like those lizards in the tropical rainforest – when my cell phone blew up.

“May I speak to Johnny Dumbass please?”

A chill ran up my spine. I knew this voice. Not this specific voice, but the archetype. Polite, businesslike, absolutely devoid of human emotion. Soul-less. The voice of a trained killer. The voice of a lawyer.

“Speaking.”

“Mr. Dumbass, this is Sue Yourassoff. I represent Lame-O Garage. Are you responsible for the upcoming salsa workshop?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Dumbass, [For some reason, lawyers love to repeat your name at the start of each sentence] at or about 11:00 pm last night, affiliates of yours were identified distributing flyers on the premesis. We order you to immediately cease and desist from the distribution of such materials on our client’s property, or we will be forced to take action.”

SHIT! I was freaking out. But my first thought was - how did they find me? Must have put something on the flyer that they traced back to me. DAMN. Rookie mistake. I was mad at myself. But I still had this lawyer on the phone. What to do about her? I thought for a second, then I did what any self respecting promoter would do in this situation. I improvised.

“Ms. Yourassoff, thank you very much for bringing this to my attention. I did have a crew downtown last night, but it looks like some of them may have become a bit overzealous. I will contact my people immediately and inform them of your clients wishes.”

-CLICK-

I finished browsing the site that I was on, then I waited for a few extra minutes, just to keep appearances on the up and up. Then, using the caller ID on my celly, I hit redial and called her back.

”Ms. Yourassoff, please?”

“This is Sue Yourassoff” [For some reason, lawyers love to repeat their name at the start of each sentence]

“Ms. Yourassoff, this is Robert Capili” Using the lawyer speak sentence structure that I had been picking up on during our earlier conversation, I continued. “Ms. Yourassoff, I would like to thank you for bringing this issue to my attention. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused your client. I have spoken with my people, and they won’t be giving you any more problems. If any of my people step out of line again, please contact me and I will deal with them immediately.”

I talked like she talked. Directly, distinctly, and utterly without emotion. And she flipped! She started gushing about how I was the most professional promoter she had ever contacted. I wanted to tell her that real pro's don't get caught. Instead, I just said "Thanks", and hung up with a smile. I was stoked that the approach had worked. But more importantly, I was stoked that the threat of an impending lawsuit was now gone. Not that I thought they would really sue over something like that. But the threat was gone. And I learned a valuable lesson: if you’re going to bomb a garage, never leave any information on a flyer that can be traced back to you. Ever.

Robert Capili
Editor, SalsaFix.Com

Copyright (c) 2002 Robert Capili