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I don’t know about you, but I like to wallpaper every bar I go to with my business card. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me, but the minute I’m a few drinks deep I’m handing those things out like they’re candy. I think I left a thick stack in the bathroom of the infamous Los Angeles music venue Whisky A Go Go just last weekend.
This irrational behavior is not entirely my fault, however. When my boss recently ordered a new round of business cards for my team I thought I would get, I don’t know, one hundred? Maybe two hundred? No. This mid-level baller ordered all of us 600 business cards each.
What am I supposed to do with 600 business cards other than spray them across the dancefloor like they’re $20 bills?
Giving your business card to someone is a power move and it feels fantastic. Yes, you could put your name in their phone like a plebeian without a job. But why would you do that when, with one swift flick of the wrist, you could hand them a sleek 3.5 x 2 piece of paper stock ingrained with your name, email, and dope ass entry level title that no one really cares about. There’s nothing like ending a flirty conversation with, “Here, take my card.” It’s simple, it’s sexy, and it screams, “Yeah, I’m a fucking professional that also likes to drink aggressively on a Wednesday night.”
There’s only one problem. When I’m out there shooting my shot and handing out my business card to every finance daddy I meet, generally speaking, I don’t actually want these fuck boys to have my professional information. By the time I’m wasted enough on tequila to be handing out my business card, I am certainly not painting either myself or my company in a positive light. I have no interest in actually doing business with these lads, and god forbid they email me on my company email or call my office phone. I genuinely get full-blown anxiety thinking about receiving the below phone call to our office:
Receptionist: Hello how can I help you.
Brad: Yeah! Hey, Victoria?!
Receptionist: No, this isn’t Victoria. Was she expecting your call?
Brad: I mean. Last night at the bar she said she’d accept whatever I was offering.
Receptionist: Excuse me?
Brad: You guys are hiring, right?
Receptionist: Victoria told you we were hiring?
Brad: She told me a lot of things, if you know what I’m saying.
Receptionist: I really don’t. Please hold.
I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination. That’s only one of the dozens of disastrous scenarios I have dreamed up in a fit of hangover anxiety. The morning after a business card bender I generally sit silently at my desk questioning all of my life decisions, praying to god he decides to use that little piece of stock paper for illicit activities instead of a means of communication.
My anxiety around this matter has gotten so bad, I finally had to develop what I see to be a fail-safe solution. (Aside from, you know, drinking less. That would be insane.)
Ladies and gentlemen, I’m talking about the Bar Business Card™.
The Bar Business Card™ is exactly what it sounds like. A business card for the bar. Instead of containing all of the business-y business information, however, it exclusively has the let’s get down to business information that potential suitors really care about.
The Bar Business Card™ has two things; your picture and your number. It is simple, it is elegant, and it’s got the clout of a business card without putting any of your professional information at risk. The last thing I need is my work number floating around every dive bar within a 100-mile radius of my office.
With The Bar Business Card™ you will no longer live in fear that Jenny from The Dirty Pirate is going to send you illicit photos to your company email, or worse, apply for a job and put you as a reference. Plus, wouldn’t it be spectacular to wake up with a pocket full of numbers AND a picture to back it up? Talk about photo evidence.
What I’m saying is go ahead, be a baller, hand out your card. It’s a move I respect from a suitor and use quite frequently myself.
Only next time, save yourself some anxiety and ball responsibly with the Bar Business Card™. Now, you’ve really got nothing to lose. .
Buy the New Card, What Do Ya Think? shirt from the Grandex Shop.
Image via YouTube
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CallMeVictoria
Life is messy, let's get dirty. itwasvictoria@gmail.com
@callmevictoria
@itwasvictoria
I bought the domain name for TheBarBusinessCard. Give me a call if you want to buy it.
Very *nice work*
Not to put down this idea too hard, but there are plenty of folks in Vegas who give out cards with just a picture and number on them…
I just have my cell on my card under my direct office # and hope they have the common decency not to bang my line at work
I give them my bridge and tent number, usually on a napkin.
One of my ex’s pulled the business card move on me a few years ago. I was young and naive and thought he was super cool. He actually turned out to be a huge douche and if anyone tried to give me their business card now at the bar I’d probably just walk away. Just ask for my number like a normal person please.
What about one that just says “a good guy to know”
Put a little riddle or a limerick on a card with a picture of a treasure map that has an x on it and then pass them out and tell them to follow their dreams or some corny shit like that and then walk away
Add a Snapchat/IG/Twitter handle on there too while you’re at it. Gotta plug the social networks while you’re out there making connections
I’m more of a fan of handing out other people’s business cards to people at bars. Imagine the terrifying scenario you just described happening to a friend, now it hilarious.
I’ve sat on this comment for a while and it probably won’t be read, but what you’re describing is essentially a calling card. In its modern (and admittedly niche) usage they usually have your name, phone number, and optionally social media on there.
I really enjoyed the term “business card bender”.
I’m also horrified of how often it seems people from PGP go hard on Wednesdays still.
Not all post-grads are created equal. For example, my body has only been on this planet for 26 years, but it’s been through roughly 40 years of drinking and stress. Using the postgrad-age index (made up by me), my adjusted age is about 29 years. Like you, I will not drink heavy on a Wednesday (mostly).
Me too man, me too