Page 57 of No One Else
“I wanted to make sure I was reading it right that this plan isn’t hypothetical. You’ve actually started new marketing and rebranding efforts at the campus gym?”
“Yes, I work there and I got the go ahead from my manager. Some of it has already been put into effect.”
He crosses his arms over his pinstripe suit and strokes his jaw, his face as inscrutable as ever. “Do you work in the marketing department there?”
“No,” I hedge. “Not technically. But I help with a lot of the front desk and office stuff.”
“And you’re what? A sophomore? They just let you do all this?”
My temper flares at his dismissal of me. “I’ve worked there for a year and a half. The manager trusts me. And the marketing I’ve already done has increased business there.”
A smile flashes across his face before he covers it with a finger, as if he’s donning a thinking pose. “And what about the actual marketing department there? The gym must have one.”
I do my best to contain an eye roll. Jerry, a relic from a bygone era, refuses to listen to my suggestions. He’s only focused on his upcoming retirement, not implementing the strategies I know will work.
“The person in charge of it hasn’t been keeping up with the times,” I tell him bluntly. “He’s stuck in a previous decade, insisting that handing out fliers and putting posters on bulletin boards is the way to go. He doesn’t have personal social media accounts, let alone any idea how to fully utilize the ones for the university gym.”
“And you do?”
I recognize now that he’s testing me, trying to push my buttons. I won’t fall for it again. “I asked my manager to let me do additional stuff, just on Instagram. It was free and she trusted me to be professional. It couldn’t hurt anything right? And our growth exploded. So many students weren’t aware of everything we offer. Some didn’t even know there was a gym on campus. We had a six hundred percent increase in the number of people that walked through the doors in the week after I started posting, and a two hundred percent increase in the number of signups for personal trainers compared to the week prior. The numbers have leveled off over time but are statistically still higher than average in comparison to previous years.”
He looks impressed, despite his attempt to remain impassive. “So for this project, you’ll be adding in additional social media efforts to increase the reach of the gym?”
I nod. “Facebook, Twitter, and Snapchat. I’d like to add YouTube too, but that will require professional videography and editing skills I don’t have.”
I pause, collecting my thoughts. “I’m not so concerned with making the gym more money, as highlighting that it’s a fun place students can go that doesn’t have to cost anything extra. We have free services like group fitness classes, wellness demonstrations, and seasonal rewards programs. All you need is your Student ID. And faculty and staff can join for twenty-five dollars a month,” I tack on, the spiel ingrained.
“It sounds like you’re passionate about this. Why?”
“Altruistically, it’s about helping people. We’re a non-profit. We want students to come in, use our basic stuff for free, improve their health and lives. But also, with more people coming in and higher rates of engagement, we can justify asking the university for more funding to upgrade our equipment and offer more awesome services. Plus, then there’s a better chance of people upgrading to the higher-tier services, like personal trainers. That directly affects the staff, puts more money in their pockets because they get a percentage of every session they do. I’m also trying to gauge interest in offering massages at the gym too. I created a survey-”
He cuts me off mid-sentence. “That sounds wonderful. Very ambitious. Now, to the real reason I asked you to stay after. Depending on how the actual project goes, I wanted to know if you’d be interested in presenting your plan at the Florida Marketing Association’s conference in the Fall. There will be a whole student-led panel for just this kind of thing. Based on what I’ve seen from you in class and this proposal, I believe you’d do Suncoast proud.”
Me? Presenting at that conference is usually reserved for seniors. “Yes,” I tell him enthusiastically.
“Excellent. I’ll work with you more on submitting the proposal for it at a later date. It’s due at the end of March. Were you planning on attending the Spring conference in two weeks?”
“No,” I admit. “I thought there wasn’t much use in going until I was at least a junior.”
“Well, if you’re interested in presenting, it’d be good to check it out, get an idea of what’s being presented, what they’re looking for. The department has scholarships that cover the registration fee and one attendee recently backed out. It’s up for grabs again. You just have to provide transportation and lodging.”
“I would love the opportunity.” I do a quick mental scan of my schedule in two weeks. I may have something coming up with Suncoast Serves, but I’ll figure it out. “Are you presenting there?”
“No,” he says, packing up his briefcase now. “My niece’s wedding is that weekend, so my partner and I won’t get to enjoy Orlando.”
“Orlando?”
“Yes, it’s being held over there this year. In the Fall, it’ll be over near our neck of the woods in Tampa. Will you be able to get there?”
“Of course.” I’ll figure that part out later. “Thank you again.” I shake his hand and leave, an extra spring in my step as I check my phone and find that Evan’s texted me to meet him at the library.
As soon as I spot him, right at the table he said he’d be at on the second floor, I dive into telling him everything Dr. Kaufman and I just talked about, practically bursting with excitement.
“Can you believe it? Presenting as a junior next semester will be a huge leg up when I apply for marketing internships the summer before senior year.”
He squints at me, tapping his pen against his notebook. “It’s amazing. But why is he being so nice to you?”
“What do you mean?”
