Why I became a plumber, and how I ended up with a business in the UK – Part 2

If you haven’t already read it, here’s Part 1.

Part 2.

After a couple of years in London, working at a restaurant and then a property maintenance company, it was time for my next move.

I’d had the good fortune of being approached directly by some of the maintenance company’s clients. They liked the quality of my workmanship and overall work ethic, so they gave me a few gigs. It worked out well… it was time to incorporate my company. The Italian Plumber was born.

First thing: I needed a promotional flyer, and a gimmick. I decided to use the heading ‘MARRY A PLUMBER’. I thought it was hilarious and would get the phone ringing off the hook.

But, after hours of traipsing around residential streets, putting flyers through people’s letterboxes in the wind and rain, it didn’t yield one job. A new approach was definitely needed.

I did it again, but this time without the nonsensical heading. Instead, I used a gorgeous picture of an antique Italian-designed radiator. Very ornamental, and a real thing of beauty. It worked, and the calls started to come in.

Next up: nice branding and a good-looking business card. I decided to have the card laminated, which turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life – more on that later.
After seeing my efforts begin to pay off, I felt it was time for me to find a partner… a romantic interest.

I love to dance, and always enjoyed a night out at Cargo nightclub in Shoreditch.
It was a great place – the music and atmosphere were always brilliant. It was August 2009. The weather was still warm and the evenings barmy. So, there I was, on the dance floor, shaking my culo, trying to look casual.

Then I noticed the most beautiful girl. I couldn’t take my eyes off her… I had to turbocharge my moves and catch her eye. I put my hips into full swing – she didn’t notice.
Only one thing for it then, I had to get my finger out – literally.

With the most confident-looking swagger I could muster, I pointed at her and gestured for her to come over to me. Amazingly, she did. We danced, we drank, I gave her my business card, and we parted company. Her name was Charlotte, and I prayed she would call me.

Days went by and I hadn’t heard from her. I was beginning to lose hope.

Then, she finally called. I was so happy. We talked and talked, and she confessed that, initially, she wasn’t actually that keen on seeing me again.

The reason she did call was, when she took the card out of her handbag a few days after we’d met, she had decided to tear it up and not bother calling me. But the lamination on the card made it impossible to rip up. With that in mind, she thought maybe this was a good omen and it would be worth calling after all. Hey, what did she have to lose?

And here we are, almost 14 years later, with two beautiful daughters and a life I thought I could only have dreamed of.

I hope you enjoyed my story.

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