“Are you ready for your presentation?”
“I hope so,” I said. I shifted the laptop from one hand to the other, thinking it felt strangely heavy. “Actually, I’m more nervous than I thought I would be. Taglieri would be my first client, and I haven’t had a chance to even rehearse my pitch yet. When I was at Peters, there was always someone around who’d listen.”
“Would it help if you ran through it with me? I know I’m not in advertising, but I’d be happy to lend an ear.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t. I’m volunteering. I have some free time. And besides, I’ve never heard an advertising pitch before. It’ll be a new experience for me.”
Though I knew she was offering to be nice, I felt the need to go over it, if only so I wouldn’t continue to replay the argument.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll owe you.”
“You already owe me. Playdate, remember? Not that I’m keeping score.”
“Of course not.”
We strolled to the coffee shop, got our drinks and sat at a table. First, I walked Emily through a few slides on the PowerPoint that spoke to the power of advertising, another few slides showing breakdowns of advertising dollars in the legal world, and still more that profiled a few other legal firms in Charlotte, and their estimated revenues. From there, the presentation emphasized the power of using a broader advertising strategy, across multiple platforms, to increase awareness, and a mockup of the kind of user-friendly and up-to-date website that would be far more effective. I then showed a sampling of various legal commercials, along with Taglieri’s, emphasizing the lack of differentiation. Finally I went over the slides that showed how I could not only create an overall advertising campaign—and film three commercials—but also save him money.
She pointed to the computer. “Do you always do this much work beforehand?”
“No,” I said. “But I think this is the only shot I’ll have with this guy.”
“I’d hire you.”
“You haven’t seen the commercials yet.”
“You seem more than competent already. But, okay, show me.”
I took a deep breath and showed her the outline for the two commercials I’d be pitching, the first somewhat similar to what he was already doing.
My idea was to open with two photographs of auto accidents, a photo of a construction site, and another of a warehouse. Off screen, Taglieri is speaking: “If you’ve been injured in an accident or on the job, you need help from an expert.” Taglieri appears next, walking slowly in front of the courthouse, wearing a cardigan and addressing the camera.
“My name is Joey Taglieri and my specialty is helping people who are injured. It’s what I do best, and I’m on your side. Consultations are free and there’s no cost until I get you the money that you deserve. I’ve won millions of dollars for my clients, and now I want to help you get your life back. Let me fight for you. Call…”
There was a toll-free number followed by I-N-J-U-R-E-D, and Emily furrowed her brow. “I like that he’s outside and not in an office,” she offered.
“It makes him more approachable, don’t you think? I also wanted to make sure the phone number was memorable.”
“And you said you have a second commercial?”
I nodded. “This one has a different feel,” I offered.
It opened with everyday images of Charlotte—both places and people—while Taglieri spoke off camera in a calm voice.
“Welcome to another day in the Queen City. Tourists come to experience the sights and sounds and smells, but our best attractions aren’t our barbecue, or our racetrack, or our sports teams, or our lakes and trails, or our skyline. It’s our people. Our community. Our friends and families and coworkers and neighbors who make this place feel like home. And when one of them is injured on the job, a stranger at an insurance company, maybe someone who can’t even find Charlotte on the map, will do everything he or she can to deny coverage, even if lives are ruined in the process. To me, that’s just plain wrong.”
From there, the camera shifts to Taglieri, wearing a shirt and tie, but no jacket.
“I’m Joey Taglieri, and if you’ve been injured and need some help, give me a call. After all, we’re neighbors. I’m on your side and we’re in this together.”
When it was finished, I tapped the keyboard, shutting down the screen. “What do you think?”
“Very folksy.”
“Too folksy?”
“Not at all,” she said. “And it’s definitely original.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“He’ll be blown away.”
“I just don’t want to waste his time. He hates when people waste his time.”
“He told you that?”
“Yes.”
“At least he’s honest. I like that.”
As I walked into the law offices of Joey Taglieri, my nerves were still jangling and I had to force my hands not to shake. I’d just finished running through most of the presentation and the first of the commercials—I held the second commercial and financials in reserve—and when I finished, I waited for Joey to say something. Anything. Instead, he continued to stared at the final image.
“Is that phone number available?”
“As of last Friday, yes. And it’s the kind of number that people will remember.”
Taglieri nodded. “I like the number, so that part’s a definite. And I get how the other kinds of advertising will help. But I can’t say that the commercial really grabs me.”
I nodded, knowing he’d feel that way. “After hearing what you said about Cal Worthington, my concept is less about having one commercial than a series of commercials. At the same time, I didn’t want to go too far out on a limb. The reason personal injury attorneys use commercials like these is because they do work.”
“A series of commercials? Won’t that be expensive?”
I pulled up the slides outlining the estimated costs that I’d put together.
“Upfront, there will certainly be additional costs, but over the course of a year, you’ll not only save money but get a lot more in return. Not only more commercials, but more extensive advertising, in a variety of ways.”
He zeroed in on the line that showed how much he was spending and pointed toward it. “How did you know how much I was paying?”
“I’m good at my job,” I said.
I wasn’t sure what he thought about my answer. In the silence, he fiddled with a pen on his desk. “What would be your plan, then? How would you begin?”
“I’d get to work on the website and Internet advertising, especially search platforms, so you’ll have better exposure there. Simultaneously, we’d schedule filming for the first two commercials. We’ll also get the voice-over done. I’m almost certain that I can have the first one airing by October, when the new website is ready. That dovetails perfectly with the timing for Internet advertising and search prioritization. The second commercial will be ready for the holiday season, and I’m confident it’ll be something that people remember. But you’ll be the judge of that.”
“All right. Let’s see your idea.”
I showed him. Afterward, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know what I think,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“That’s the point. It forces you to remember it because it makes you think.”
“It doesn’t have much of a sales pitch.”
“No, it doesn’t, but it keeps your name out there. I’m thinking we should follow that up with a couple of billboards in January. Two fantastic ones are coming available around then, and I’d like to lock them up if you’re in agreement. And then, of course, there are the third and fourth commercials. Like the first commercial, those will air year-round, one starting in October or November depending on filming schedules, and the other in January, rotating after that. They’re shorter, single theme, and humorous.”
“Let’s see what you have.”
“I didn’t put together any slides for them.”
“Why not?”
“You’re not my client yet.”
He seemed to think about that. “How about you give me a hint?”