Pitch Letter Begging Letter

Pitch Letter Begging Letter ©

By Michael Casey

I didn’t know what to write today, and it was a bit of a pain day with the Arthur my arthritis playing up etc. It must be boring for you all to hear me mention this, I’m hoping if ever I’m rich, never, that’ll I’ll have a mini sauna in my house, or be able to afford the Hilton in Malta. So, and yes I’ve noticed that I use so ever so often, but it’s a nice word, and wasn’t it a Peter Gabriel album?  I just checked it was US, not SO. I’m listening to Jean Michel Jarre while I talk to you.

Which brings me to the point, Pitch Letter Begging letter, I wrote one earlier on to a person, if he’s reading this he’s checking up on me already, or one of his Minions, no I didn’t write to a cartoon character, I’m not that silly. The question is how do you write a Pitch Letter or a Begging Letter?

Dear Nicola I really love your short skirt and you really do carry it off so well, all the boys in Parliament must whistle at your legs. Those sexist animals, they should have their bagpipes removed. Would this impress any Nicola you know or would she see through it immediately?

Dear Theresa, I so enjoyed the cream cakes you bought for us to share together, a pity your security team had sat on the box, but a cream cake just has to be eaten, naughty but nice as Salmond Rushdie wrote when he was just a humble copy writer. I hope you enjoyed the haggis we had to follow on. Would any Theresa you know laugh like a seal as an ungracious MP is alleged to have said, if she received such a note?

The thing about words is that they have meaning, and meanings, double and triple meanings and tones and so on and so forth. In a pitch letter you have to show or pretend you know who you are writing to. You have to explain in spread sheet detail just how much money your idea will make for their fat middle aged spread bottom. Though if you are writing about a new gym technique you have to prove what a tight arse you’ll create for them.

It’s getting the balance between fawning and aggression. Give me the money you bastard and I’ll make you even richer than you are, and you can move on to your 7^th wife, the one with the great big assets you want to get your hands on. And so it goes on, what do you say and what don’t you say. Should you be humble, or be like Donald Trump, ok I went too far there. Should you be a salesman or a teacher or a priest?

Would you say or do anything to get that girl or boy in bed with you?  Please is the most I could offer. The same goes for business investment, what do you do and what should you do. We’ve all seen The Apprentice, personally I switch off, but the minute bits I have seen make me want to puke, as do the wannabe shows. Though I did laugh today when I read in the Press that one reality show had been cancelled for months but folks were left on a desert island for months, not knowing.

Basically all any one of us can offer is ourselves, just be ourselves, this is me warts and all, this is my offer and this is my personality, what you see is what you get. Which is me down to a T but not golf tee, as Donald will never invite me for a game of golf, though I know a pharmacist who’d give The Donald a really good game of golf.

So you explain your idea and you hope the Angel Investor invests in it, then your daughters might get an inheritance other than your large collection of faded blue Yfronts, which make great rags for polishing your piano once you cut them up. And if you do or I do get my chance and make a bit of money what do you spend it on. A house, and if you are really successful a house each for your two daughters too.

In the end you need the help of God and Two Policemen, that’s what my mother swore by, and our next door neighbour did become a policeman, Sergeant Dixon was his name, the same name as the tv show. And he really did live in Dog Kennel Lane. No I don’t need to make everything up, I just have Total Recall for trivia, and I could forget my own name but its written on the inside of my faded blue Y fronts, Saint Michael.