BILLINGSGATE POST: A mad genius? Perhaps. Elmer Smuckmeister, a retired farmer and bon vivant, who made and lost fortunes by thinking outside the envelope, was the first to purchase a scooter franchise in the early days of this revolutionary transportation experiment.
But Beaver Crossing, a small farming village in Nebraska, where the average age of citizens was trombones; as in 76, the demographics were against him. With most of the residents having one foot in the grave, and the other foot on a banana peeling, it was a hard sale to convince them to jump on a scooter to cavort around the town’s unpaved streets.
Then there was the lawsuit. Milada “Horny” Hornback, a recent grieving widow, was celebrating the loss of her husband of 52 years. She was tooling around town on her rented scooter, hitting Happy Hours at the saloons that dotted Main Street of Beaver Crossing.
She may have had one too many cocktails, it was said.
Whoops! She hit a rut and went ass over elbows into a light pole.
“WTF!” She yelled in mid-air as she speed dialed her attorney.
Elmer was born at night, but not last night. After settling the law suit, he decided to get out of the scooter business. But, stuck with a couple hundred of the scooters, he decided to disassemble the batteries and wheels and mount them on BarcaLoungers.
Noting that everyone in Beaver Crossing had one, and was familiar with how they operated, he bought out the entire stock of them at the local “BarcaLounger R’ Us” store. After first sponsoring a race down Main Street to advertise his newest venture, they became so popular that the City banned the use of automobiles within the town to allow for the chairs.
Not since Elmer cornered the pig belly market in 2014, had he hit such a giant home run. The sight of old ladies racing down the street in their fully-reclined BarcaLoungers brought a smile to his face.
Slim: “The guy’s a f*cking marketing genius.”
Dirty: “Yo, Dude. And that’s with half his brain tied behind his back.”