Summary: Make goods are revisions to existing billed media buys on broadcast orders. They occur when a media buyer has to adjust the number of spots, the net cost, or gross amount on an existing broadcast order that has already been billed.
The Make Good Date is the newest phenomenon in New York dating, previously referred to as a “rain check,” New York’s media heavy community has replaced this term with “make good” as it more clearly represents the action that is taking place. You are making good on your obligation to another party.
The Set Up - I was recently set up with a fellow that works in a sister division of my corporation. A friend thought that we might hit it off and suggested that we meet up for a drink. I abhor set ups and so several times, I politely declined. After several attempts to get us together this said friend took matters into her own hands and invited the both of us out on the town on a group date. The conversation was decent but not brilliant so when the lad contacted me for a one-on-one date I reluctantly agreed. This is what I would call a “courtesy date” one where there are friends of friends involved and you can’t just be rude and flat out decline. He of course chose a Friday night when I would have much preferred lounging at the French restaurant amongst friends or just plain old crashing out on the couch, so when a friend told me she might be in the city on Friday night I seized the opportunity to tell the boy that I needed to reschedule. He quickly launched into a tirade about how he hates busy people and really doesn’t choose to associate himself with those kinds of people. I thought to myself that I was off the hook! I never had to hang out with this sarcastic self-indulgent male again! But no, he reported that I was going to hold me to my offer to “make good” on our date the next week.
The Make Good - Come Monday, I did my due diligence and offered for him to accompany me to see a friends band play but he was busy so then I asked him for Thursday night and again he was busy. Once again, I was free of all responsibility, I offered, it didn’t work out and I was off the hook. When hump day rolled around I was pleased as punch to hit the gym and then head home at the end of the long day. I was IM-attacked by the self-righteous lad and he told me that I told him that we were hanging out on Wednesday! Excuse me? I don’t think so, but due to the “make good” policy I had to oblige! There was no getting out of this one.
The Awful Experience - We met downstairs in the lobby of our office building and headed out the door. I was in a foul mood that day anyway and really had a low tolerance for his sarcasm; the first five minutes of conversation were painful at best! First, we headed out to the uber-hip rock bar snitch where upon sitting down in a completely empty venue we were told that they were about to have a jewelry show and that we needed to leave. After that we thought we would try the new BLT Fish restaurant, after another 5 block hike during which he proceeded to walk always 3 steps ahead of me and I am “running” to keep up in my 3 inch heels, we find out that the wait is one hour and we decide to head to the east village and visit one of my favorite tapas restaurants Alphabet Kitchen. Once again he heads off 3 steps ahead, never looking to see where I am, I keep throwing out jokes that I should put my running shoes on and he doesn’t even get it. At this point I am ready to throw in the towel but due to the “make good” policy I press on. After 5 minutes waiting for a cab we get to the restaurant. I offer to pay half the cab and he replies “don’t worry I will get it, you can get dinner.” You may laugh right now but I can tell you that he is completely serious. One time he bought me a brownie in our office building but since it was Friday, it was buy one get one free on all pastries, so in fact, he bought me a free brownie and then called me on Tuesday to meet him at the coffee shop cause it was my turn to buy him a brownie.
As we walk into the restaurant immediately I know something is wrong, the friendly owner is not standing guard at the host stand, the hot bartender is not behind the bar waiting to give me my free pino grigio, there is not one person sitting in the restaurant, something is amiss, but, the evening had been a bomb so far so there was no way that we were going to switch restaurants for the third time! We sit down and order up a few things to share. My “date” is turning into a horror story before my very eyes, we try to liven up the conversation, and the lad informs me that we should “dissect” my personality so that he can get to know me better. I am quite certain that today I could not take that and the evening would end in tears. I reply that I am off limits and I get two more topic choices, “past relationships” or “sex.” I opt for the generic sex discussion cause you could at least keep that fairly impersonal. As tapas start rolling out and I discovered that they must have changed owners cause the food looked like it just jumped out of the frozen foods section. Now of course it is my fault that I picked the location, he can’t stop mentioning that the food sucks and that there are no people in the restaurant. After an hour of painful “sex” conversation finally we pay the check. Of course, true to form he passes it over to me and I slap down the whole bill with a grimace, at least then I would have ammunition for when my friend asks why I don’t like him I can say he didn’t even go Dutch for the evening. I am so thankful just to get out of there and go home. I haven’t even been able during this whole experience let my mind wander to think about how much I would rather be hanging out with the French boy because I have remain alert to deflect the ridiculous questions that this fool keeps pelting at me. Finally he takes a look at how much money I put down and he gives me some back. Coyly he says, “why are you paying for it all?” and I reply, “Because you told me that I had to pay cause you got the cab.” Boy did he get a good laugh at my expense on that one.
We walk outside and I am so prepared to say thanks for the nice night and RUN home, but no, he wanted to have another drink next door at HiFi. This date couldn’t get much worse. I never go to the HiFi because my ex in San Francisco owned a bar called HiFi and I am pretty sure that he knows the owner of this bar too, just a little too close for comfort. In we go and the conversation gets a little easier as we have another drink, now I am able to let my mind wander as he leaps up from his seat mid sentence on several occasions to check which song is playing on the juke box, apparently he is some music junkie. The mantra “one drink and you’re home free” keeps running through my head. I am calculating exactly how many sips it will take for him to get to the bottom of his glass, it’s like the tootsie roll commercial but much less fun. I am almost there, just two more regular sips and we are done. As soon as he gets the very last drop of his beer down he looks back and forth at our empty glasses and begins to clear his throat, finally I say “what??” He replies, your turn to buy a round. Is this guy unbelievable? I get up, order him a beer and a soda water for myself, I figure nothing is clearer that you want to go home than when you drink water. The conversation becomes pained as he starts trying to delve into my psyche by asking me what my passions in life are. I resort to the mute tactic. After every question he asks, I just stare blankly in between his eyebrows. Finally he gets the message and says that we should head out.
He walks me all the way to my door and I dreading the awkward goodbye. That passes as he asks if he can come up and use my restroom before he hits the subway, I tell him that just cause he uses my restroom doesn’t mean that its an invite to stay over, he laughs. Finally after he marks territory in my bathroom, he says good bye, I am almost gleeful when he gives me a hug goodnight, there is nothing worse than the “courtesy make out” at the end of the date, but he only wanted a hug, things are looking up! In fact, I believe it was the best part of the evening, he was silent for 10 seconds and I got to be held just for long enough to feel loved. Although I didn’t do it on purpose, I am pretty sure that as I closed the door it slammed him in the ass and I, from inside my apartment, grinned from ear to ear.
