The Mutually Beneficial Agreement

Today is day 4 of my quest for free stuff. I'm trying a new "approach" to asking each day, and today's method - the mutually beneficial agreement...

Dear Food Network,

Please forward this to the someone in Marketing who has enough clout to make weighty decisions. This is not a joke… it is a serious request.

Dear Food Network Marketing Executive (hopefully the lovely Susie Fogelson),

I’ve been a loyal fan of the Food Network for years. I was watching cooking shows on your network before it was considered ‘cool’ – back when Bobby Flay was just some guy on Grillin’ and Chillin’… back when Ready, Set, Cook was an innovate, although highly unappreciated, new game show… and back when Iron Chef (the original) was still making its blossoming American audience squirm at the thought of eating squid ink and bonito flake ice cream. I say all this not to brag, but to make the point that I am and have been for years, a devoutly loyal fan.

I’m sure you’re overwhelmed on almost a daily basis by croaker sacks full of viewer mail. And one could hardly blame you if were more than a bit put off at the idea that some Joe on the street felt as if he were in a position to demand an autographed copy of Paula Dean’s latest cookbook or perhaps pitch an idea for a new cooking show, showcasing only Lithuanian cuisine. So let me assure you. I am not seeking an autograph, nor am I here to pitch an idea for a show. I am simply looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement - an“I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine” kind of a deal.

What I propose is this: please send me something… like a Food Network T-shirt or a Food Network pen or a Food Network oven mitt – anything you have with your brand on it. What I’m looking for is the satisfaction of saying, “hey, I wrote Food Network and look what they sent.” What I offer in return, is an invaluable branding opportunity you might otherwise miss. Wherever I go in my Food NetworkT-shirt or whatever occasion I might have to pull out my Food Network pen, I assure you that a conversation will ensue through which I promise (I will even put it in writing if it strengthens my position) to encourage those around me to tune in and watch some of the many wonderful programs your network offers. And while I make no quantifiable guarantees, I will say that I can be quite persuasive.

Thank you for your time, and I thank you in advance for the t-shirt.

Kind Regards,

Ben Dismukes

PS – I wear a men’s large.

PPS – If Susie ever actually reads this, could she send me an ‘on-air sign’ on the new season of “The Next Food Network Star” – like maybe flash a peace sign or give a little wink into the camera. That would rock!

The Environmental Appeal

Today's letter of supplication is directed at Altoids - the curiously strong breath mints. Actually, it's directed at the people behind the mints. The approach - the conscientious environmentalist.

Dear Altoids,

I discovered you about 14 years ago, while gallivanting around Europe as a young twenty-something in search of adventure. Thanks to you and your incredibly ingenious trademark minty flavors, my life has been deeply enriched. You see, it was on the same excursion on which I discovered your breath mints that I met the woman who would later become my wife. Coincidence? Maybe, but who knows what might have resulted had my breath not been so clean and minty fresh. I might well have found rejection instead of love. So it is with a debt of gratitude that I write to you today.

For years, you’ve been my number one fresh breath provider. I cringe to think of all the rancid air you’ve spared the world from over that time. And I’m just one person. Imagine assembling all Altoid users world-wide and taking away their breath mints for a few days. Then have them all breathe into an apparatus that could extract the stink from the air. Can you fathom the collective funk of such an extraction? That’s what you mean to the world. So, I think we all owe you our deepest thanks.

In fact, I’m quite confident the environment would be in a critical state… as well as a stanky state… if not for you folks and your marvelous mints. Think of what all that putrid breath would have on global warming. Talk about melting ice caps. You rock, Altoids!

In return for rocking so hard, I’m now asking that you consider sending me a courtesy tin of passion fruit sours, or perhaps a tin of ginger mints. You don’t have to, and I sure don’t think that you owe me or anything crazy like that. However, it would be really nice of you. And I have been a loyal customer for years and years. Either way, I’ll still trust my breath to you guys. I mean… I’m just sayin…

Looking forward to hearing back from you.

Thanks always,

Ben Dismukes

PS-I would also like a cool Altoids T-Shirt, please (free advertising for you guys). I’m a large.

Big Mac, Anyone?

As you may or may not know (depending on how often you read this blog), I am on a mission to get as much free stuff as I possibly can. I haven't heard from the Starbucks folks yet, but it hasn't even been 24 hours yet, so no worries there. Today's project... McDonalds. Given their website comment form restrictions, I'll have to send this via snail mail, but here's a sneak peak.

Today's approach: the humanitarian appeal.

Dear folks at McDonalds,


According to your website, “We all have a duty to act responsibly. To do good. Participate in the lives of others. It’s about taking pride in the world we live in, and dealing with the important issues. It’s about being there for us.” And while I’m not so sure I would have put a comma between the ‘in’ and the ‘and’ in the 4th sentence, I appreciate the sentiment, nonetheless.


It’s in the spirit of this quote that I’m writing you good folks today. In times such as these, we’ve all got to band together and do what’s necessary to get by. Most of us have lost our faith in the financial and economic systems which, just a few years back, seemed to be indestructible. Many of us have lost our jobs. Some have lost homes. But despite it all, we each maintain the common thread that binds us together. We’re a brotherhood (and I use the term in the most gender neutral way I can think of). And as brothers, we rely on each other when times are tough.


As such, I am swallowing my pride and asking McDonalds Corporation for help. I don’t want millions of dollars, even though I have a reliable source that tells me that you guys are actually doing pretty well right now. But I would like a helping hand. Please send me 2 gift certificates that can be redeemed at the restaurant of my choosing, so that me and a guest can enjoy a Big Mac together. I promise that, while there, I will spend some of my own money on some other product, such as a coke or some fries, or maybe even a ‘Baked Apple Pie’. I love your pies. I remember when they were called ‘Hot Apple Pies’. I’m kinda’ old school.


I have always been a huge fan of your restaurants. Sure, there’s the occasional over-cooked French fry, or the slightly stale bun. But by and large, when you walk into a Mickey D’s, you know what you’re getting, and I, for one, truly appreciate that.


Keep up the good work, and thank you in advance for the gift certificates.


Yours truly,


Ben Dismukes


PS – If you have any McD’s t-shirts lying around, I would like one of those too. I’m a large.

I Have A Question

Dear Blah, Blah, Blog fans,

Recently, I have entered a new realm of civic involvement. I am volunteering my time by serving on a steering committee responsible for the establishment of a charter school in my home town. In assuming this new role, I have, on more than one occasion, had to ask for things I might not have considered asking people for previously. For instance, I recently asked someone to donate about 15 acres of land to our cause. Fearing rejection of the harshest kind, I was shocked to receive a quiet but sure “Ok.”

I am now empowered by this amazingly simple and effective concept.

My favorite book says, “you have not because you ask not.” Armed with a surprisingly confident resolve that often reminds my inhibitions, “the worst they can do is say no,” I am now headed on a journey of discovery.

Friends, I’m inviting you to join me as I seek to push the envelope of this brave new world. Over the next few weeks, I plan to send letters to various companies and individuals, asking for free stuff. I’ll try many different approaches, sending appeals of various natures in a number of directions. But throughout, the mission will remain the same: see how much free stuff I can get.

My first attempt, naturally, is Starbucks. The following is an actual letter I sent to corporate just minutes ago. My appeal is based not so much in honesty as it is in showcasing my story-telling abilities. Some of the “facts” may be “slightly exaggerated”. In any case, we’ll see if it results in anything free.

Dear Coffee Moguls at Starbucks Inc.,

I bet you’re thinking, “Oh no! Another customer writing about the dirty bathrooms in our El Paso store,” or, “Probably some freak who’s mad that he can’t get a peppermint latte in the Spring.” Well, let me put your minds at ease gentlepeople. I am writing neither to inform you of dirty johns, nor to gripe about the seasonality of peppermint flavoring. On the contrary, I’m writing to let you know… you had me at “Grande Raspberry Mocha Frappuccino’.

I remember the first time I walked into one of your stores. I was young and inexperienced, and like a first year sailor at his first port of call, I was overwhelmed with sights and smells I never dreamed possible. A little nervous as those around me spoke a bizarre new language, ordering what I deemed to be “just coffee”, I eventually mustered enough courage to approach a girl, also known as a “barista”, to place an order. “Grande Hazelnut Latte,” I said with an air of fake confidence, oblivious as to what manner of drink I might receive. A few minutes later, when my order was up, I surveyed my prize with hesitancy. I had never seen a drink like this, let alone tasted one. Intrigued, I pressed forward. I raised the cup to my mouth, and the last thing I remember was the sweet, sweet aroma that wafted my nostrils as I soared to unheralded caffeine heights. Instantly, I was hooked… a junkie.

My addiction began with lattes… but I quickly moved on to Mochas, Macchiatos and Frappuccinos. I was buzzin’ hard and often. I had never paid so much for coffee and soon found I needed a way to support my habit. I started turning tricks on the street, but street magicians in my home town are not exactly in high demand – especially after the David Blaine incident. I ended up in accounting at a software company, surrounded by other junkies. We hit the Starbucks party scene hard, every day between 10:00 and 10:15. I was livin’ high and thought it would never end.

But then the economy went down and I told my hommies, “yo man, Bush be trippin’”. And dey was like, “fo’ rizzle.” And then I got a pink slip, and I had to move back to my home town of Nowhere, USA, population nobody. The closest Starbucks is 40 miles away, and while detox was hard, I’d go back to the bottle… er… paper cup… any day. If only I could.

This is my cry for help. Please give a brother a break and send me a gift card for a free coffee… or two (my wife says to say ‘hello’).

Thank you,

PS – I really, really, would like a Starbucks T-Shirt too, if it’s not too much to ask. Think of it as free advertisement.