hungry howie's sign
I worked for John Vitale on and off for four years helping him paint murals and make signs. The work didn't pay very well, but it was pretty fun. We would goof off a lot and make fun of people and make plans to become rich and famous artists.
Sometimes, though there wasn't that much work to do. This gave me a kind of an anxious feeling, because I always feel like I have to be doing something when I'm on the clock. When there was nothing for me to do I would have to resort to some pretty ridiculous little tasks to keep myself busy and keep from feeling bad.
For instance, John and his brother, Paul might be putting together a vinyl sign or something. I would just stand behind them wanting to help, but I was really just getting in their way. Every now and then John or Paul would throw a piece of tape or scrap paper on the floor. I would run and get it and put it in the trash. A few minutes later there would be another scrap of paper tossed over their shoulder and I would run and get that. I was kind of like one of those kids from Wimbeldon that sprints and gets the stray balls, but instead I was picking up scraps of paper and tape.
Then I would go and take out the trash can with with the scraps of paper in it, even though it was maybe one eighths full.
But sometimes there was really just not enough work or money to pay me to pick up scraps of paper.
"Mark, I just don't have anything for you to do today," John would say. "Why don't you take a little vacation."
I would have loved to take a little vacation but I just didn't have any money. I couldn't even go on a pic-nic in Largo.
So one day when I was on a little vacation I had an inspiration for keeping myself working and making money. There was all sorts of sign and mural work out there in the world, I thought. All I had to do was go out and sell it. Not only would I be busy with real work, but I could pay myself a commission for jobs I sold.
I ran my idea by John.
"Sounds pretty good to me," he said. "Go for it."
So I went for it. I went out in my little toyota pickup and drove around looking for work to sell. The easiest thing to spot was old, dilapidated signs. Everytime I saw one I would stop and pitch the business owner on replacing it. I did this for hours and hours with no success.
But finally, I passed by this grubby, little Hungrie Howie's pizza on Park Boulevard. The sign was so old and dilapidated that it was almost illegible. The old vinyl letters were peeling off and some of them were gone.
That Hungry Howie's really needs a new sign, I thought. I pulled in and found a fat sweaty manager busy making pizzas.
"Yeah, we really could use a new sign," he admitted. "How much would it cost?"
I was startled by the fat manager's positive response. Suddenly, I was in the zone. Poised to close a deal. But I hadn't thought about pricing. I had to think fast. The first figure that popped into my head was $100. A nice even figure. And I knew the sign wouldn't be that hard to make. Brown vinyl on a yellow substrate. (It was kind of a gross color combination. It made me think of poop and pee).
But then I hesitated. I don't know. A hundred bucks might be too much. I don't want to give this guy sticker shock and scare away my first sale.
"Eighty bucks?" I said. I said it in question form to let him know there was room to negotiate if that was still too much.
"Sure, that sounds good," the manager said.
A wave of joy went through my body. I had my first sale. I was bringing in work to the business. I could end my little vacation and dig in to a real sign job. I went right away to tell John and get the needed tools and materials.
But as I was driving I started to think. If I do this job for John, it will only take a couple of hours. At ten dollars and hour, that's only twenty bucks. Even if he gives me a ten percent commission, that's still only twenty-eight dollars.
What if I did the job myself? Then I could keep all eighty. Now that's a day's pay.
But how would I make the sign myself? I don't have a computer or a sign machine, and I'm terrible at hand painting letters. It would be impossible.
But then I thought: maybe John will just let use his machine and materials and I could just keep all the money anyway. I mean, whats a little sign job to him. He would never know the difference. Maybe, I could just find lots of little sign jobs and do them all myself. Before long I would have enough money for a computer and my own sign machine. Then I could go into business for myself.
I ran this latest concept by John.
"I dunno," he said. "It seems kind of funny to let you use my office and my equipment and materials to run a business that's in direct competition with me. But what the hell. Why don't you give it a try."
With that I feverishly set out to do my first sign job. I found some yellow substrate in John's warehouse and some brown vinyl. With John's computer I laid out the pee and poo colored Hungry Howie's logo. Before you know it I was done and I delivered my work to the fat, sweaty manager.
The fat sweaty manager opened up the cash register and counted out eighty dollars and handed it over. I took the money and thanked him and drove away.
I never did open my own sign business, and I only did one or two more signs out of John's shop.
But if you ever drive down Park Boulevard in Pinellas Park, keep your eyes open as you whiz past the thousands of fast food and pawn shop and porn shop signs. If you look really hard at just the right place and just the right time, you can still see my little poo and pee colored Hungry Howie's sign.
(That story is way too long and not that funny. But that's how it happened).
6:46:29 PM 
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