Zero Forks - Cat Johnson Page 0,43
she drew in another big breath.
One more button undone on her blouse and I could easily slip my hand inside. Though I’d so much rather have my mouth on her . . .
The fantasy of her nipple between my lips was broken when she said, “I still have no idea for my marketing campaign. The boss wants something different. Memorable. But I’m fresh out of ideas. I was hoping something would come to me if I got out of the office. That’s why I came home early.”
I pushed aside the thrill I got that she was calling the house where she and I lived together home and focused on the issue. “What kind of product is it?”
She cocked her head to one side. “You really want to hear about this?”
I tipped my head. “I really do.”
“Okay. Technically, it’s a new mobile streaming platform but that’s too simple of an explanation because it’s so much more than that. It’s kind of like if you combined the functionality of the best search engines on the internet, with all the paid streaming platforms plus the free ones, then added the learning and customization and voice command capabilities of AI. That’s MOD.”
“Sounds good. Sign me up.” I grinned.
“If only all potential subscribers were as easy to convince as you. Although age wise, you’re right in the target demographic so it’s encouraging you like the concept. Now I just have to figure out a way to make the marketing Super Bowl ad worthy, to quote my boss.”
“Mmm. Super Bowl ad worthy is a tall order,” I agreed.
She let out a huff. “Tell me about it.”
“You know, I don’t think you were totally off-base with the Bethany thing.”
“What do you mean?” She frowned. “You told me yourself that nobody that age range says things like that except for her.”
“Right. But no one said a bunch of the things made popular in commercials until after the ads ran. I mean what was with everyone saying dilly-dilly from that beer commercial a couple of years back? Or from when I was a kid and they aired that what’s up commercial. That stupid saying was so popular they remade it this year into new commercial.”
“You were a kid for the original what’s up commercial?” she asked, with an oddly repulsed look on her face.
“I wasn’t little-little. I was a teenager.”
Sarah sighed and looked defeated again. I ignored it.
I’d always suspected she had an issue with my being younger than her and I wasn’t about to feed that beast, so I continued, “The point is, I remember that commercial all these years later. It was catchy. Annoying as hell after the hundredth time I heard it, but memorable. And you know what else is catchy and memorable? The things that Bethany says. The bartender at the Otesaga in Cooperstown even put a drink on the menu named the Bee’s Knees because of Bethany.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know. I mean I see where you’re going but this product isn’t well known like Budweiser. It doesn’t have a huge existing following of customers who want to jump on the bandwagon of their newest marketing campaign.”
“That’s true,” I admitted.
I loved that Sarah and I could talk about something other than Stewie or what was for dinner. But I hated I couldn’t solve her problem. That my one good idea was a bust.
“But you know . . .” she began.
My ears perked up as she picked up her cell phone.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I’m pretty sure that bee’s knees and cat’s meow and all those phrases are from the nineteen-twenties.”
I nodded. “That sounds about right.”
Eyes on her cell, she continued, “And we are now in the twenty-twenties. A hundred years after the roaring twenties, we’re in the next century, presenting the next great new idea.”
“I like it.” I nodded, seeing where she was going with the idea.
Not that I knew shit about advertising, except for what I liked as a consumer. But maybe that was enough.
“Yup. Those sayings are definitely slang from the twenties.” Her eyes narrowed. “What year was television invented?”
It looked as if she was talking to herself, more than to me, which was good since I didn’t know the answer to her question. But as she typed away on her phone, I had a feeling she’d find the answer.
A second later her eyes widened. “Nineteen-twenty-seven. It was in the twenties. Oh my God. That’s perfect. This idea might work. TV then versus TV now.”
She put down her cell and reached into