Ripping people off was not what I ever thought I'd be doing at this stage of my life. Truthfully, I'm actually a nice guy once you get to know me. Without a doubt though, as time has gone by I have grown unwaveringly dedicated to becoming the biggest jerk people would ever think of when they got a lousy deal on a moon jump.
It all started about six years ago just after my 30th birthday and I decided that as an individual, I wanted to be remembered by people for having achieved something great in life. Not just anything mind you. I yearned for an accomplishment that would touch the lives of countless thousands. However, as time went on my momentum stalled and my dream began to wane. I found myself setting lower and lower standards in the attainment of my ultimate goal until it was all but given up on entirely.
As I realized that actual hard work and some amount of good fortune was involved in seeing my lofty plan through to reality, I grew disheartened and despondent. My vision had faltered and I had a hard time sleeping for a while. I began eating too much and drinking a lot. Months went by, then years. I found myself driving on the wrong side of the road at night just to tempt fate and took other life-threateningrisks. My only wish was to make my mark on the world and being unable to successfully see it happen consumed me to the point where my girlfriend left one day without saying a word. I was left utterly and painfully alone. I was a dark time for me personally, but my salvation would come in the form of my brother in law who offered to sell me his failing moon jump business for 500 bucks. Since I had been unable to work for a while, I needed something to get me back in the game and start supporting myself again so I took a chance on the business. After that, my plan sort of started coming together quickly.
I can't recall the exact date it happened, but the moment was undeniable. Perhaps four years ago, after running the business for a number of weeks I rented out a moon jump to a nice family on the north side of Edinburg for their son's eighth birthday party. The mother had called me three days earlier to inquire about availability and rates. She said she had seen the ad in the phone book and after visiting for a couple of minutes, she was convinced that I was her guy. So I booked the deal and went over to their home to set up one of my medium sized castle-shaped bouncers about one o'clock on a sunny Saturday afternoon in April. It seemed like just another gig, but it turned out to be the pivotal point in my quest. I learned that day that fate presents itself in strange and most unexpected ways.
I left the home once everything was set up, told the child's uncle that I would return in five hours and proceeded drive to a nearby KFC for a late lunch then cruise over and buy some dish soap and thumbtacks from Wal Mart. Just another Saturday, I thought. It was about the time that I was browsing the shampoo aisle when my cell phone rang. On the other end of the line was the child's mother in a frantic voice sobbing that the blower was malfunctioning and that several kids had been inside when the bouncer collapsed on top of them. It was as if it was September 11, 2001 and her kids had been inside one of the twin towers. She was demanding answers and flinging insults at me a mile a minute. Blindsided, I tried to make sense of what I was hearing. Had the plug come out of the socket? She was telling me nothing, and demanded that I come and take the thing away immediately. While considering the purchase of a bottle of Garnier Fructis from 7 miles away, I was being held responsible for ruining her son's birthday party.
I hastily returned to the house and discovered the party in shambles. Kids were sitting on metal folding chairs sullen and crying. The mother was shooting sparks at me with her eyes through the windshield of my truck and the other adults looked on accusingly with certain fingers fully extended and pointed in my direction. The bouncer lay in a jumbled heap on the front lawn and from the large and muddy boot prints it was evident that people had been stomping all over it with rage. I got out of my truck and was immediately descended upon by the mother who was so angry that I had a hard time processing the stream of obscenities that were being hurled at me. 'Lucky for you none of the children were hurt', she yelled at the top of her voice. In addition, she promised that she was going to tell 'everybody' about me. The mob suddenly began to move against me when I attempted to offer a replacement. It was obvious that I would be unable to work things out. Unable to learn the cause of the malfunction, I hurriedly dragged everything into my truck and tore out of there as quickly as I could under a hail of beer bottles and cake plates.
Days later I received a call from a friend who said that he had heard about the incident from a co-worker. I was floored. How did word about something like this spread so fast? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My fault or not, this experience was enough to get myself recognized and most importantly, remembered. Had I found the way to achieve my goal? From that point, I was on a mission. So, I continued renting my bouncers out and decided that every fourth or fifth rental I would sabotage the equipment somehow to ensure chaos and a demand for a full refund. A refund which would never be given. After these rentals-gone-bad, I would brace myself for the flurry of phone calls to follow, and would pretend to be on vacation and never return my messages. After a time, I began to grow more creative. I would deliver the wrong bouncer, for instance and refuse to compensate the renter for the inconvenience or say the rental was a certain price and then charge the credit card all the way up to its maximum. Whatever it took to gain additional notoriety. It was working! More recently, I even made sure that a delivery was three hours late and came ill-equipped with a slide that was laughingly too small for anyone to effectively use. It wasn't long before I was hearing my name come up more and more often as that incredible jerk moon jump rental guy whom nobody should ever rent from.
One amazing day I discovered that I had racked up over 430 complaints to the Better Business Bureau and people were blogging about what a scam I was and writing letters to the editor of the local paper about how they couldn’t understand people who would do such a thing. My name was all over the place; the Internet, the newspaper, the local police department, I was shocked beyond words. Someone even placed an ad in the Bargain Book once offering a $250 reward for my current whereabouts. It was easy to see that things were paying off in ways I had never thought possible. And it seems like it isn't about to stop because somehow business keeps getting better and better. Knowing that every minute of every day, someone somewhere is cautioning a friend or a neighbor about the risks of renting one of my moon jumps has allowed me a measure of peace at last. And although the nature of immortality I have achieved may not quite be as originally intended:
In the end, it will be enough.
It all started about six years ago just after my 30th birthday and I decided that as an individual, I wanted to be remembered by people for having achieved something great in life. Not just anything mind you. I yearned for an accomplishment that would touch the lives of countless thousands. However, as time went on my momentum stalled and my dream began to wane. I found myself setting lower and lower standards in the attainment of my ultimate goal until it was all but given up on entirely.
As I realized that actual hard work and some amount of good fortune was involved in seeing my lofty plan through to reality, I grew disheartened and despondent. My vision had faltered and I had a hard time sleeping for a while. I began eating too much and drinking a lot. Months went by, then years. I found myself driving on the wrong side of the road at night just to tempt fate and took other life-threateningrisks. My only wish was to make my mark on the world and being unable to successfully see it happen consumed me to the point where my girlfriend left one day without saying a word. I was left utterly and painfully alone. I was a dark time for me personally, but my salvation would come in the form of my brother in law who offered to sell me his failing moon jump business for 500 bucks. Since I had been unable to work for a while, I needed something to get me back in the game and start supporting myself again so I took a chance on the business. After that, my plan sort of started coming together quickly.
I can't recall the exact date it happened, but the moment was undeniable. Perhaps four years ago, after running the business for a number of weeks I rented out a moon jump to a nice family on the north side of Edinburg for their son's eighth birthday party. The mother had called me three days earlier to inquire about availability and rates. She said she had seen the ad in the phone book and after visiting for a couple of minutes, she was convinced that I was her guy. So I booked the deal and went over to their home to set up one of my medium sized castle-shaped bouncers about one o'clock on a sunny Saturday afternoon in April. It seemed like just another gig, but it turned out to be the pivotal point in my quest. I learned that day that fate presents itself in strange and most unexpected ways.
I left the home once everything was set up, told the child's uncle that I would return in five hours and proceeded drive to a nearby KFC for a late lunch then cruise over and buy some dish soap and thumbtacks from Wal Mart. Just another Saturday, I thought. It was about the time that I was browsing the shampoo aisle when my cell phone rang. On the other end of the line was the child's mother in a frantic voice sobbing that the blower was malfunctioning and that several kids had been inside when the bouncer collapsed on top of them. It was as if it was September 11, 2001 and her kids had been inside one of the twin towers. She was demanding answers and flinging insults at me a mile a minute. Blindsided, I tried to make sense of what I was hearing. Had the plug come out of the socket? She was telling me nothing, and demanded that I come and take the thing away immediately. While considering the purchase of a bottle of Garnier Fructis from 7 miles away, I was being held responsible for ruining her son's birthday party.
I hastily returned to the house and discovered the party in shambles. Kids were sitting on metal folding chairs sullen and crying. The mother was shooting sparks at me with her eyes through the windshield of my truck and the other adults looked on accusingly with certain fingers fully extended and pointed in my direction. The bouncer lay in a jumbled heap on the front lawn and from the large and muddy boot prints it was evident that people had been stomping all over it with rage. I got out of my truck and was immediately descended upon by the mother who was so angry that I had a hard time processing the stream of obscenities that were being hurled at me. 'Lucky for you none of the children were hurt', she yelled at the top of her voice. In addition, she promised that she was going to tell 'everybody' about me. The mob suddenly began to move against me when I attempted to offer a replacement. It was obvious that I would be unable to work things out. Unable to learn the cause of the malfunction, I hurriedly dragged everything into my truck and tore out of there as quickly as I could under a hail of beer bottles and cake plates.
Days later I received a call from a friend who said that he had heard about the incident from a co-worker. I was floored. How did word about something like this spread so fast? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My fault or not, this experience was enough to get myself recognized and most importantly, remembered. Had I found the way to achieve my goal? From that point, I was on a mission. So, I continued renting my bouncers out and decided that every fourth or fifth rental I would sabotage the equipment somehow to ensure chaos and a demand for a full refund. A refund which would never be given. After these rentals-gone-bad, I would brace myself for the flurry of phone calls to follow, and would pretend to be on vacation and never return my messages. After a time, I began to grow more creative. I would deliver the wrong bouncer, for instance and refuse to compensate the renter for the inconvenience or say the rental was a certain price and then charge the credit card all the way up to its maximum. Whatever it took to gain additional notoriety. It was working! More recently, I even made sure that a delivery was three hours late and came ill-equipped with a slide that was laughingly too small for anyone to effectively use. It wasn't long before I was hearing my name come up more and more often as that incredible jerk moon jump rental guy whom nobody should ever rent from.
One amazing day I discovered that I had racked up over 430 complaints to the Better Business Bureau and people were blogging about what a scam I was and writing letters to the editor of the local paper about how they couldn’t understand people who would do such a thing. My name was all over the place; the Internet, the newspaper, the local police department, I was shocked beyond words. Someone even placed an ad in the Bargain Book once offering a $250 reward for my current whereabouts. It was easy to see that things were paying off in ways I had never thought possible. And it seems like it isn't about to stop because somehow business keeps getting better and better. Knowing that every minute of every day, someone somewhere is cautioning a friend or a neighbor about the risks of renting one of my moon jumps has allowed me a measure of peace at last. And although the nature of immortality I have achieved may not quite be as originally intended:
In the end, it will be enough.
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