I Had My Own Condom Brand
PART 2: When the rubber hit the road
Here’s a link to PART ONE in case you missed it.
Early on, I felt Lady Luck was on my side. Hot Rod Condoms came off the starting line at the beginning of a Hot Rod culture revival that swept like a high-octane-fueled firestorm through the U.S. and the entire world in the mid-to-late 1990s. In the summer of 1995, Hot Rod Condoms made its debut at the first-annual Grease Ball, a Hot Rod car show and rockabilly music festival held at the famous DNA Lounge in San Francisco.
The event was a soft launch, done to secure a Registered Trademark from the Library of Congress. To obtain it, my product needed to be available on the market—it couldn’t be just an idea for a product. I ran out and purchased a thousand generic condoms, the non-descript kind they gave away in high schools, and I printed up a hundred retail boxes. It was a ruse but necessary.
At the time, there were only two condom manufacturers left in the U.S., and neither offered private-label condoms. Locating manufacturers overseas proved to be extremely difficult. The internet was in its infancy, and nothing could be found online. I finally dug up an old international trade book at a public library and contacted over a dozen companies. Only one, located in India, agreed to manufacture a batch of condoms for me.
Hot Rod Condoms had come off the starting line at the beginning of a hot rod culture revival that swept like greased lightning through the U.S. and the entire world in the mid-to-late 1990s.
I was not a rich kid—far from it. I didn’t have a fat bankroll, any savings, or investors. Hell, I didn’t even have a piggy bank. What I did have was two credit cards with a combined limit of $5,500. Sadly, that didn’t go very far. My entire inventory of condoms, t-shirts, baseball hats, and decals fit inside a small walk-in closet, which also served as my office. But it was a start.
After putting a slick business plan together, I set out to find investors. I was laughed at when I approached the Small Business Administration for a small business loan and laughed at even harder when I tried Wells Fargo, Crocker, and Bank of America. There also was no interest among family, friends, or friends of friends, but I was determined not to give up. I knew the idea was too good just to let slip away. I’d find a way, somehow, someway.
Over the next two years, working in my spare time, I established a website and started selling condoms and merchandise online. I got Hot Rod Condoms into a handful of headshops and skateboard shops, but I had little luck getting into convenience stores or liquor stores. I had even less luck with pharmacies. They only stocked established corporate-owned brands, all of which came in boring, subdued, and clinical-looking packaging. My bright yellow boxes with red hot flames and checkered flags were like kryptonite to them.
Still, I eventually sold out of the first batch of condoms I had manufactured in India and was ready to double the quantity of my next order. I called my contact at the factory, and he informed me that they had discontinued their private label program and could not fulfill my order. He had no recommendations or leads on other manufacturers who might work with me.
I set out to find investors. I was laughed at when I approached the Small Business Administration for a small business loan and laughed at even harder when I tried Wells Fargo, Crocker, and Bank of America.
It was a heavy blow. One I wasn’t sure I could recover from. I once again was in a mad frenzy, searching the world for a condom manufacturer. Thankfully, by that time, I was able to find a dozen or so listed on the internet. But one by one, I scratched them off the list. The very last one I contacted in Thailand showed some promise. The representative said she would prepare a promo package with samples and send it to me immediately by Air Mail.
I received the samples a few days later and was completely blown away. The quality was far superior to the condoms from India. They were the highest-quality condoms I’d ever seen. To top it off, the pricing was incredibly low. There was one problem, though. The required minimum order meant that I’d have to come up with a lot more money. The ante was raised to $12,000. But then, for that money, I’d get the whole package: full-color printed foil on the condoms, packaged in high-gloss 3-pack retail boxes. It was an incredible deal
I emailed my contact at the Thai rubber company and told her that I planned to place an order in a month or two–trying to buy myself some time–and she got right back to me. She said they’d be happy to work with Hot Rod Condoms and were eager to meet me in person. She asked if I’d fly to Bangkok and visit their state-of-the-art manufacturing plant. I hesitated to respond for a couple of days. I didn’t have money to cover airfare and a hotel. I didn’t even have enough money to place the order. I wasn’t sure what to say. I had never been out of the country. How was I going to make it all the way to the other side of the planet?
Out of the blue, an acquaintance I met through work a few years back called me. I hadn’t seen or talked to him in a year. He was a filmmaker, and I had done some editing for him. He knew nothing of my personal life or business. He had no idea that I had a condom brand. He only knew me as a video editor and a struggling filmmaker. We had no other connections or mutual friends.
He got straight to the point of his call, “Hey Jon, this is going to sound totally random and out of left field, but would you be interested in a free flight to Bangkok, Thailand?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was stunned into silence.
He continued, “I work at Northwest Airlines, and I get free buddy passes. I can take a friend along with me on any vacation trip for free. It’s one of the better perks of my day job. So, if you’re into it, Jon, let me know. It’s a free round-trip ticket. All you’d have to pay for is food, lodging, and entertainment.”
“Hell yes, I’m interested,” I told him. “Let’s go!”
I didn’t have money to cover airfare and a hotel. I didn’t even have enough money to place the order. I wasn’t sure what to say. I had never been out of the country. How was I going to make it all the way to the other side of the planet?
After accepting my friend’s gracious offer, I immediately let my contact in Thailand know I was coming out for a visit the following month. She told me she would give me a guided tour of their corporate offices and then transport me to their manufacturing plant near the resort town of Pattaya. She said they’d like nothing more than to take me out on the town, take me to dinner, and then return me to my hotel in downtown Bangkok.
I was close to pinching myself at that point. Was this really happening?
I told my family about my incredible stroke of luck, the upcoming trip, and the opportunity that was opening up. I told them I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to come up with the money I needed to manufacture nearly half a million condoms, but with the strange magic swirling in the air around me, I was sure something was going to make it all possible.
Not more than a week later, my mom was at a 7-Eleven playing Keno and won more than $5,000. She decided to take the whole family to Las Vegas to celebrate my birthday on March 29th, and my sister’s on the 30th–Lori was born two years and a day after me. We booked rooms at the Circus Circus Hotel because we had kids in tow. There were a lot of things there to keep them entertained while all the adults were busy gambling.
On our last night in Vegas, my mom hit it big on Keno again, this time during dinner at the MGM Grand Hotel & Casino. She shot up and out of her seat in a flash, dancing around and waving her Keno slip in the air. My sister was a little tipsy and began yelling excitedly, “You won big, didn’t you?! How much?! How much did you win?!! Is it thousands?!! C’mon, tell me!!”
The two of them were drawing a lot of attention, which I didn’t think was a good idea. I was able to quiet them down a little, convincing them it was dangerous to let everyone know you won big. My mom was giggling and bouncing in her seat as we waited for the casino gal to wheel her cart over to us. The lady offered my mom a check for $68,000, but she refused it. She wanted hard, cold cash.
MGM provided security guards to walk us to our car in the parking lot. Which was a good thing because my sister had forgotten where she had parked it. We wandered through the parking structure for at least 15 minutes.
Just as I was getting into the backseat of the car, Mom handed me a wad of cash. “That’s $15,000,” she whispered. “Now, go buy those condoms and have some fun in Thailand while you’re at it.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
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