Brewery to brewery, I travelled begging for free beer. It was a fine art convincing brewers that I genuinely loved their products and would actually use the bottles to raise money for moms in crisis and not go behind their dumpster with the six-pack to ease my mommy blues. I successfully convinced them that I am not an alcoholic just a beer connoisseur with the heart of a fundraiser. The tasting room manager agreed to donate a six pack and said, “Since you are so familiar with our products, which one would you like?” So of course, I lied when I said I love their beer, give it as gifts, and tell all my friends about them. To taste their beer, I would have had to wear nose-plugs to get past the stench that wafts through most of my childhood memories. Instead of admitting my deception, I simply said with a dainty wink that resembled an involuntary tick: “Since I love them all, let’s go with the Manager’s Choice.” I happily left with a six-pack knowing that I would make one lucky, benevolent, charity-supporting mom, a very relaxed and a tipsy woman when she won our group’s basket at a luncheon.
After acquiring beer, I sought tea, toffee, cookies, chocolate, green chile sauce, haircuts, massages, manicures, pedicures, Italian dinners, steak dinners, alternative vegetarian meals, and ice cream. No matter how many owners and managers told me “no,” I knew that my twofold approach to fundraising would bring much plunder for my charitable cause. My method was simple: First flatter their ego and next prey upon their insecurities. I always started with how much I love (their product, establishment or service) and then described how I would like the opportunity to share their wonderfulness with my non-profit group. Normally, when my flattery got me nowhere, I simply made them feel cheap and uncharitable. I had no problem telling potential donors that their competitors donated (Only if they really did. There is a fine between exaggeration to get what I want and fraud; I am an expert at negotiating those murky waters of fibber versus felon. ) I had no problem pitting the two best family-owned Italian restaurants in town against each other, and letting the teahouse owner know that a kitchen novelty store donated coffee, a mug and a gift card. The teahouse owner matched their contribution and added a few more tea accessories and wrapped them all beautifully in a small basket.
It is as simple as appealing to people’s competitive spirit and their shame; people will capitulate just to save face. However, another club member took the high road of explaining our club’s mission and detailed the specifics of our event. This method could be called straightforward honesty. Never thought that would work, but it did. With a basket totaling more $300 in gift certificates and merchandise, our group raised the most money for charity and won first place for the best basket at the event. It was a nice victory for our club, and I learned the valuable lesson that honesty and straightforwardness can pay off. Still dealing with the consequences of that revelation.
