I am pissed. I can't believe it. Who the hell does Larry Dobrow think he is? It was my idea to be the next Billy Mays, not his. MINE! I came sauntering into the office on Monday morning glowing with confidence, certain that my phone's little red light would be blinking because I will have received that call from the infomercial king, TeleBrands CEO Mr. A.J. Khubani. What do I get instead? An email from my editor. She's enraged because it's that hack Dobrow, not I, who got all the notice for his audition. Dobrow, who fished shamelessly for flattery from those judges at last week's big New York audition for the next big infomercial pitchman. Let them flatter. Pearls before swine, I say!
But guess what! I'm willing to work for $19.95 as The Pitchman for TeleBrands, Mr. Khubani, but only if you choose me now -- today. And if, Mr. Khubani, you call me RIGHT NOW! I will also throw in another article about your business and a free carwash. That's right; I will wax your car -- a $60 value -- for free. All you have to do is pick up the phone, and call me, Karl "3-for-1" Greenberg at 212.204.2013. Call now and get my services as pitchman for $19.95, plus I will wash your Lexus, plus -- and I'm only doing this because I'm in a good mood -- I will feed your cat, and I will write yet another story about you this week. Yes, you heard right: YET ANOTHER story about you, and a lionizing story at that: one that will include a Photoshopped picture of you accepting the Nobel Prize. From Barack Obama, who by next week, will surely have decided to pawn the award for money to pay down the deficit.
Now, I watched a few of the guys audition before me, and I had to shake my head. I honestly felt sorry for them. No, it ain't easy -- let me say that right up front: you've got to love the product, you've got to "feel" the product, you've got to get excited about it and you must need others to feel the exact same way you do.
You might think that I should have taken my pre-audition half hour to study, to write a pitch as others did. That my mistake was to just "wing it." After all, while the other guys -- including what's his name over at "Age" -- were huddled down in the green room, agonizing over their products, eyeing each other with contempt and waiting for the products to talk to them, I was upstairs relaxing at the buffet. I had a scotch. Guys: if the Ped Egg is going to talk to you, it ain't going to talk unless you've had three fingers of Maker's Mark and a petit four. It's called PREPARATION, guys. Then I did a mind meld on the product. I touched it, became one with it. Heard it speak to me. In Urdu, which I don't understand, but it's a start.
Then it was my turn, and as you can plainly see from the video, I was channeling the product. Now, Mr. Khubani, if I'm not the guy for you, and I understand you need an everyman and I'm, well, kind of too sexy, I have some advice. Find someone out there whom the American people already relate to. Who needs work. You know where I'm going with this. Fox, Schmox, you get on the phone with Conan and tell him to ACT NOW!