Overheard at Chipperfields ... Part XLIX ...

Ross was sitting at the table in front of the jukebox. Spread across the table before him was a number of cardboard cup insulators with a variety of business and organization symbols printed on them. Ross was idly browsing through the cardboard insulators as J--, and one of the regulars approached the table.

“What are you up to today?” asked the regular.

“Abandoning the stay-cation idea?” asked J--, as he sat down putting his coffee mug in the midst of the insulator sleeves.

“Oh no,” answered Ross, gathering up some of the stray bits of cardboard and making room for the newcomers to the table, “I’m still doing the Stay-cation idea, but it has to wait.”

“What’s this ?” asked J--, his hand moving the insulators around a bit, “the second chapter of the cup lid plug fiasco.”

“That would have worked if the prices weren’t so unreasonable,” replied Ross, his face looking stern, “imagine expecting you to place a minimum order of 120 000 lid plugs …” He paused before continuing, “do you know how long it would take to sell 120 000 cups of coffee?”

“So, what’s this all about then?” asked J--, still flipping through the pile of coffee cup insulators.

“Well,” Ross returned his attention to the cardboard bits lying in front of him, “I was on a longish business trip this week and everywhere I went they had one of these on the coffee cups. And each one is different.”

“Where you going with this?” asked the regular, “you gonna start making your own?”

“Or are you gonna order a couple hundred thousand of them?” asked J—with a laugh.

“Well, not quite,” answered Ross, leaning into the table slightly, “I got thinking …”

“Oh oh,” said J--, taking a sip from his coffee, “that’s never good.”
“Thanks,” scoffed Ross with a smirk, “but what I thought was this: if we put these sleeves on our cups of take out coffee we could advertise ourselves on them, AND we could sell the other side to other businesses in town, or groups.”

“Like?” asked J—skeptically.

“Well, take for example the Big Brothers and Big Sisters,” answered Ross, “they could buy space on 500 of these sleeves. Or the bowling alley could buy a space on 1000 of them. Or the town could by a couple thousand.”

“Where would you get them printed?” asked J--, still very skeptical, “or do you have to order a couple hundred thousand like the plugs?”

“Well,” answered Ross, “I found a place that will do up small batches, and I’ve talked to the local computer shop and he assures me that we could run them through the printer in the office a few at a time to do the advertising bit.”

“Huh?” scoffed J--, looking less skeptical, “sounds like this one might actually work.”

“Amazing,” added the regular.

“Frightening,” laughed J--, “Ross coming up with an idea that may work and that may actually be practical. Who’da thunk it?”

“Ha ha,” said Ross, “laugh if you will. But sooner or later one of my ideas will pay off and I’ll be like …” Ross paused.

“Like …??” asked J--.

“Like …” Ross paused again, “I’m trying to come with an example of some little invention that made it big.”

“Like the pet rock?” asked the regular. J-- glanced at him as he lifted an eyebrow.

“Pet rock?” said J--, “how did you jump from coffee cup sleeves to pet rocks?”
“I dunno,” answered the regular, “I was just trying to come up with an example of something little that made it big, and the pet rock was the only thing I could come up with …”

J—and Ross both laughed.

“Okay, so I might hit on an idea that will make me as famous as the guy who came up with the Pet Rock,” laughed Ross, “what was his name anyway?”

“Good luck,” said J—as he stood up and headed to the counter for a refill, “I think you both need to get a new hobby …”