
Find Your Cookie: Giving in a Taking World
Nothing went according to plan at my first trade show. And I couldn't be happier.
I thought dozens of business owners would stop to play my game. I was worried the cookie thing would come across as gimmicky. As a "man of the (marketing) cloth," I was sure that my pitch was clear and compelling.
But I was totally wrong.
1. The Nerdy Game
Instead of having people drop their business card in a bowl to win a cooler or something, I spent the last three weeks chatting (mostly arguing) with my friend Claude.ai to build an interactive audit where small business owners could get their brand score while playing a retro-styled, Star Wars inspired arcade game (Thanks again, Aaron Hutchinson, for inspiring me with yours).

I wanted something different, unexpected, and valuable. The kind of thing that your wife unironically shouts "Neeeerrrrd alert" when you show her. But my nerdom has survived worse for decades. And, obviously, I thought, "Man, this is awesome. People are going to love this." I brought a 40" flatscreen, hooked up my laptop, and expected to sit at my booth for three days while people played...

Seven people. 20 hours over three days. That's it. And three of them were maybe elementary or middle school kids. One was a young mom pushing her infant in a stroller — not exactly my "target audience" of small business owners (no offense, Brooke).
All in all, the game was a total flop. Swing and a miss. That's the way the cookie crumbles.
Actually, funny thing about cookies...
2. The Brown Butter Cookies
Equal parts anxiety and creativity, I had another idea for my first event. Instead of the tried and true bucket of Halloween candy and pens scattered across the table, I wanted something for all the vendors who would be stuck at their tables with people taking stuff from them all weekend. In a sea of takers, I wanted to be a giver. I'd be the one person walking up with something for them. And not a pitch. A treat, a surprise, unexpected delight for the exhausted, starving vendor stuck behind a plastic table all weekend.
So, I baked 106 chocolate chip cookies. Packed them in cellophane bags with my logo and a sticker on the back:"Great brands are worth sharing. Is yours?" And I'd walk around to every single vendor, introduce myself, tell them I was "reverse trick-or-treating," hand them a cookie, and just ask how they were doing.
And these weren't some repackaged Great Value half-stale cookies or take-and-bake Toll House. They were fresh baked, browned Irish butter, Madagascar vanilla bean paste cookies with four types of chocolate — chips, chunks, minis, and hand-sliced dark chocolate. And a pinch of finishing salt fresh out of the oven. Rich, chewy, indulgent, rippled with chocolate in every bite. I wanted this to leave a good taste in their mouth.
"Tastes better than a business card."
I made that joke a lot. People ate it up (puns always intended). I thought maybe some people would like it, but I was worried it would come across as gimmicky.
It was a phenomenon.
"Thank you so much. That's so thoughtful."
"Oh my gosh, that's the best cookie I've ever had!"
"I don't know what you did, but that cookie was better than my mom's."
Everyone was shocked when I told them I made them myself. When people saw me walking back by their booths, they were asking for more. I had dozens of people asking for the recipe. It was wild. With nearly 200 vendors, I knew I'd be short but I barely made it past my row to a quarter of the booths.
And if I could do it again, I'd bake twice as many.
3. The Fumbled Pitch
"You can't read the label from inside the jar."
That one's stuck with me from Blair Enns. Despite weeks of thinking and overthinking, my pitch was all over the place. The second morning of the event, I got surprise visits from none other than Nikki Drake (102 WVAQ) and Mike Vincent (97.9 WKKW) for radio interviews promoting the home show (Thanks again, Terri).

I don't remember what the questions asked but I do remember exactly the way I felt. Unprepared. Unfocused. Unsure. It was a major wake-up call for someone who "helps founders get clear on what makes them special."
I wasn't clear.
My pitch wasn't clear.
My banners weren't clear.
My conversations weren't clear.
I had one person ask, "So, what's your bread and butter?" I think I said something like, "My bread and butter is helping businesses find theirs." That's probably the closest thing to a marginally compelling conversation I had all weekend. Margarineally compelling?
I sat there for a few minutes after the interviews with this out-of-jar experience, thinking to myself, "I bet no one really understands what I do."
Ouch.
4. The People
The fourth and final curveball at my first trade show was that I wasn't at my booth. Like at all. Partly due to the nature of the event, focused toward homeowners, not business owners. Partly due to my reverse-trick-or-treating with the cookies. I spent every hour on my feet, walking, talking, connecting with the people around me.
I had a bunch of vendors, friends, and family asking, "So, are you having a good event?" I was discouraged at first when nothing went the way I had planned, but by day two, I stopped trying to force a square peg in a cookie hole. I'm sure some of you are reading this article just for the cookie recipe (I hope it was easy enough to find. If you make some, let me know how they turn out).
"The purpose of business is to do business on purpose."
You see, I believe the purpose of business is to do business on purpose. Profit is proof it's work that matters. Every business owner should be obsessed with helping people. Not pitching, not convincing, not leads, not sales, not taking their money. Really helping people get what they want. Being so concerned with them that you hardly talk about yourself. Being so obsessed with understanding their problems that you hardly talk about your solution. Being so curious to ask you never tell. Being so quick to serve you never sell. Being so focused with giving that you're never looking to take.
And I think it's what most business owners mean when they talk about "community" and "service." It's just people helping people. I must have made a dozen or so introductions between vendors trying to help others grow their business. That's what it's all about.
I walked around with cookies and my only agenda was to leave empty handed. I didn't go into any conversations with the whole schpiel of "Here's how I help people like you, you need this." I came in genuinely curious. Trying to help people. And if they asked what I did, great (Even if I fumbled through it).
But I wasn't there to pitch. I was there for the people.
Am I following up with people I met? Of course. If someone was interested in working together, I'm still a business owner trying to provide for my family and absolutely capitalist through and through.
But business is bigger than that. And smaller.
5. Think Differently
From the nerdy game to the brown butter cookies, I knew I needed to do something different, not just tell people I was different. With hundreds of vendors and thousands of attendees, I bet every single person I talked to will remember "cookie guy." And I captured one of the most valuable resources in the room: attention.
"That's the brand guy who gave me an awesome cookie."
When you walk into an event like this, it's like drinking from a firehose. There's so much to see. So many things to read. It's loud. Everyone's trying to sell you something. When you totally flip the script on all of that and say, "I'm not trying to get anything from you. I know what it's like being stuck behind a table all day. How can I help you?" Just an introduction from a fellow vendor and cookie lover.

"Hey, my name's Aaron. I thought you might like this. I made it myself."
And the funny thing is, even though I fumbled through it almost every time, people did ask about me. That's the beauty of it when you give before you get.
6. Fail Forward
I tried two unexpected things with the game and the cookies. I put more time than I care to admit into that game. I was sure it would be this really cool thing for the event, but that didn't pan out. And the cookies were an afterthought that stole the show. I'm thrilled one of them worked. As Smash Mouth's late great philosopher Steve Harwell said:
"You'll never know if you don't go..."

Innovation is failure. Everything is not going to work. You need to go ahead and accept that. No one bats a thousand. Honestly, I'm thrilled to have batted .500.
"Today's failure is tomorrow's success."
Sometimes you try two things and one works. Sometimes you try ten things and eight don't. That's why I love the concept of "failing forward." Today's failure is tomorrow's success. Next time I'll bake twice as many cookies, I probably won't have a game, and I'll be thinking of any other ways I can help people in a way no one else is. I learned what worked and what didn't and I can do better next time.
I tried. And that's half the battle.
7. Stop and Look Around
Despite my countless delusions, I didn't expect to sign any deals on strategy or brand management at a home show. I'm sure people can. I'm sure people do. But I didn't.
But people are still asking, "So, did you have a good show?" Absolutely. I had a ton of great conversations. That's all I wanted. I'm trying to meet people. I'm trying to be someone that people know. Someone that when they think of me, they think of a guy who's trying to help them. If that's all you remember about me, that I was the friendly guy who went out of his way to get you a cookie and was genuinely helpful, that's all I wanted.
And I had one of the most unexpectedly powerful conversations of the whole event with Patrick Kirby. He said something so profound:
"You know, I drove past a girl on the way in this morning, she was pulling her head back, tissues in her nose. And I thought, man, we are having very different mornings. Isn't it wild that every single person in the world is starring in their own movie?"
Another "out-of-jar experience."
There are so many vendors, attendees, people around us every day all around the world. They're all people. Real people. With stories and struggles and lives. What a powerful reminder. That's the kind of humanity and connection entrepreneurs need more of.
It's so easy to get caught up in starting and running a business. Always selling. Looking for leads. Closing deals. Making payroll. Buying equipment. But take a minute and remember: these are real people.
So, I wanted to take a minute to thank some of the awesome people I met at the show this weekend. Kimberly Rosenkrans, my mother-in-law, thank you for inviting me and encouraging me to join NCWVHBA. Terri, Aaron, and Mike at Kitchens & Baths by Design, thank you for welcoming me into the home show like family. To my "booth buddies," Larry for commiserating with print errors and marketing advice, James keeping an eye on my booth and buying my lunch, and Tommy for taking time to talk cars with me across the aisle. John for the book recommendations, Jim for the free samples, and Jeremiah for inviting me out to the shop and for the most awesome fidget spinner pen. And, of course, the kids, Brooke, Terri, Scott, and Shawna for stopping to play my silly game.
That's what business is all about.
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." (Ferris Bueller)

8. What's Your Cookie?
Some of the things I did worked, some didn't, but I came in with a spirit of radical generosity. I wanted to connect, not convince. I wanted to serve, not sell. I wanted to give, not take.
I believe service is the greatest success. I just want to leave the world better than I found it. When purpose is your strategy, you can't really fail. Find your cookie. Start with mine if you want. When you make them to share, you'll want twice as many as you think you need.
I'm not trying to sell you anything. I'm just sharing some of the things I learned the hard way. Seeing if it might help someone else like me. Helping me think better to help the next person better. So, if you found it useful, let me know. Share it with someone who might think the same.
And do try the cookies.