I have long considered 2004 the worst year of my life.  Sure, a lot of good things happened this year (I bought my first house and my brother got married), but I was miserable.

Maybe it was the fact that I was severely overweight (I weighed 295+ pounds).  Maybe it was the fact that I was very bitter over a failed relationship.  Maybe it was the $10,000+ I had amassed in credit card debt.   Maybe it was the fact that one of my best friends, a star athlete who seemed to be in perfect health, was diagnosed with cancer at age 23.  Whatever it was, life in 2004 seemed to be a series of bad outcomes with little end in sight.

By mid 2005, a series of events helped me start to turn things around and set me on my current path in life.  First, I started to lead a healthier life by working out more and eating less.  After seeing someone at their peak physical health get cancer, my own sense of mortality set in and motivated me to improve my lifestyle choices.

Next, my brother and his wife announced that they were going to have a baby!  In order to get international travel out of his system one last time before Annika arrived, Brian and I decided to take a trip to Tokyo… for a weekend!  It was the trip to Tokyo that re-opened my world to all of the possibilities that I could pursue, and gave me energy to try and improve my situation.  Knowing that I was about to become an uncle made me realize that I needed to start being a lot more responsible with the way I lived my life.

Last, and perhaps most important, I started a working relationship and friendship with Harlan Austin – someone who believed in me and helped me unlock my business potential.  Harlan came to me in need of website help.  He had some great ideas to serve under-tapped niches online and needed someone to help him get things rolling.

Frankly, I wasn’t very good at web design, but I was determined to get the job done and created several websites with Harlan.  He was happy with the results and challenged me to learn how we can continue to make them better.  It was through being challenged that I realized that I needed to work hard and challenge myself in order to truly be successful in life.

From that point on, the rest is history.  I started doing freelance work at night in order to compliment the income from my day job and eliminate my credit card debt.   By the end of 2005 I determined that I could safely quit my job and make enough money freelancing to keep my bills paid.  On February 1, 2006 I became self employed, and I have been a business owner ever since.

In addition to my work with Harlan, one of my first contracts as a freelancer was with a small company called Three Deep Marketing.   At the time, there were only 4 people at Three Deep (Dave, Dan, Scott and my good friend Brandon).  Brandon introduced me to the team and we soon learned that we worked great together.  For a freelancer, it was a perfect cultural fit; there was a great synergy on our team and we worked together to bring many successful solutions to our clients.

In March of 2008 I became a partner in Three Deep, merging my freelance business and clients with theirs and teaming up to bring an integrated marketing solution to our clients.   Since joining the team, we have grown to 27 people and a new location in downtown Saint Paul.

Also in 2008, I started dating my girlfriend Amanda, who is my perfect compliment.  She is smart, funny and a genuinely great person.  She has introduced me to many new things and encourages me to pursue my dreams.   I am lucky to have her in my life!

I have really turned my life around and put myself on a path for success, but I am still hungry for more.  I know what it feels like to feel helpless, bitter, and to not take care of myself; I remind myself of these feelings every day as a source of motivation.  To me, there is no greater source of motivation in life than to know what “rock bottom” feels like, and to have overcome it.

Every little achievement that I have made  in my career builds on itself and I live my life in search of positive energy.

It isn’t always easy to stay motivated, but it is easy to stay on track you look in the mirror and you are proud of the person looking back.  In 2004, I didn’t feel a lot of self-pride.  By 2005, I found reasons to be proud of myself.  In 2010, I feel like I have completely changed my perspective on life.

If you have read this far, I thank you for sharing in my story.  If you are looking for a source of inspiration, let me know.  I would love to talk with you!

5 Years After I Decided to Turn My Life Around is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0

I waited in line for 2 hours to buy the first iPhone the day it came out.  I bought the second iPhone (the iPhone 3G) within 1-2 months of when it came out (AT&T subsidized it)… and I recently bought the iPhone 3GS when I was in San Francisco.

As the story goes, I was leaving Silicon Valley to go to SF when my phone battery died.  Rather than buying a charger, I bought a phone at the Flagship Apple store in Union Square.   Although it sounds like a major exercise in excess, I must add that I had intended to buy the phone when I got back to MN, and the poor battery performances simply forced me to play my cards sooner.

The phone purchase experience from Apple was exemplary, and I really had no problems.  In fact, I’m enamored with Apple for producing such an amazing piece of hardware.  Really, I have no beef at all with the phone; just the service provider.

While my phone is a business expense, and therefore write-off-able, I still think that the charges AT&T force you to pay are ridiculous.  The service charges for voice time are in line (about $50/month for my plan), and the data isn’t horrible ($30 for unlimited usage… about a $50/month savings over the stupid blackberry I used to own), the SMS charges are absolutely out of control.  For those of you who don’t know the lingo, SMS is simply text messages.  From a technical perspective, text messages are simply data points being delivered to your phone… only much more primitive.  Basically, SMS messages are transmitted over a data network (which I am already being charged for), and take far less data to transmit than an open web browser connection.  So why charge $20/month to use it?  For anyone under 40 who actually uses SMS as a part of everyday life, this is a travesty.

The other big issue with AT&T is that it really doesn’t work everywhere.  In fact, it really works poorly across most of America.  As I alluded to above, I was recently in Silicon Valley, which is literally the birthplace of any relevant technology over the past 50 years.  It also has horrible coverage from AT&T in many places.  New York City is also horrendous.  Sure there are a lot of big buildings in NYC, but there are also millions of users.  How about you put a tower on every building and actually make your service usable?

Rants aside, I have another rant for you.  After my recent purchase at the Apple store in SF, I got a survey invite from AT&T to give them feedback about my new phone.  I decided to tell them how I really feel.  When they asked my about the ‘negative’ points of my purchase from Apple, I stated:

The purchase really didn’t have any negative points, but the AT&T Policies are ridiculous.  Separate plan for SMS?  You should be ashamed of yourselves.  This is an old school technology, yet you charge separately for a data plan?  I think that you are completely out of touch with consumers and I hope your company loses exclusive rights to this superior product so that you can understand the repercussions of being such a horribly out of touch company.  Go back to tin cans on a strings, give up your profits/exclusivity with Apple, fire your executives, promote people under 40 who actually in touch with cell phone users, sacrifice a little profit, and then come back in 2-3 years with a service offering that people will resonate to using.  That is really the only way you could make any of us happy, aside from upgrading the service you offer to something relevant to 2009 and quit penalizing me for sending SMS messages.  Also, get MMS to work you idiots.

In addition to my rants, I answered the following question:

Is there anything else about AT&T, Apple, or the iPhone 3G / 3G S that you would like to tell us?

AT&T should do what Japanese businessmen do and fall on their sword and admit that they are horrible people and have no business blemishing an otherwise perfect product.

Maybe a little harsh, but really, the people at AT&T are bad.  Americans should speak their peace, and I have every right to tell a company how bad they are.  AT&T has made hundreds of millions of dollars in profit off of the Apple iPhone, yet they have done the bare minimum to accommodate the users of their service. For this reason, I don’t feel a single iota of guilt for telling them that they are horribly out of touch with the consumer economy.

Survey from AT&T about my iPhone is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0

Fortunately, I don’t have bad break-ups more than once a year, so I need some material to plug on this blog in order to keep it afloat (and yes, I realize that it is barely afloat, but fuck off if you’re going to give me a guilt trip). Unfortunately, my fat ass eats Chipotle like 14 times a week, so it is usually what I am doing when it comes time for blog posting.

That won’t be the case today. Aside from my obsession with the Mexican Subway, my other favorite things in life are as follows: Cable Guy and Arizona Basketball. While I don’t blog about either topic nearly enough, I was introduced at one point last year with the following intro on my friends’ blog:

Without further ado, this week’s entry comes from one of our long time cronies that we met back in St. Paul in the hall that is Brady. Three contests that you will lose against him: 1) A drinking contest, 2) An Arizona Basketball trivia contest and 3) anything Chipotle contest.

Given this accurate introduction, it comes as no surprise that I write this post while doing two of the above; drinking some red wine and lamenting the Lute Olson era at Arizona.

Lute Olson. My mentor in life.

You see, it finally just set in to me that my hero, my idol, my silver fox, my coach, my second dad, my source of inspiration, my surrogate grandfather, my rock, my COACH. The man who took the Arizona Wildcats from a basketball joke to the most successful basketball program in the past 25 years, is retiring.

The stats don’t lie, Lute Olson turned Arizona basketball into a nationally renown powerhouse. I basically grew up with Lute at the helm of the Wildcats, and was in Tucson, Arizona, visiting my awesome family several times while I was growing up.

It was during the 1988 final four season that I realized my love for the Wildcats. That was the team that had Steve Kerr and Sean Elliot, and I remember my little cousins Mike and Matt running through their Tucson house, yelling “Teeeeeve Terrr!!” while cheering on their favorite player. These kids were barely old enough to talk, yet they were already declaring their love for the Wildcats.

I have been to Tucson at least 10 times in my life, and each time I grew more and more enamored with the Wildcats and the legacy that was being cultivated by Lute Olson. In the 6th grade, my first pair of boxers were purchased. They had the wildcat logo all over them, and I loved those damn boxers!

It wasn’t until my junior year of college that I actually made it to an Arizona Wildcats basketball game. I was visiting my cousin Tyler in Tucson, and he was able to get us tickets to the McKale center (not an easy task since there isn’t much else to do in Tucson), and we watched my beloved Cats get throttled by the Oregon Ducks. Not a good Lute Olson cherry busting, but still a great experience nonetheless.

Personal experiences aside, there is no doubt that Lute Olson’s impact on Arizona basketball was profound and undeniable. The stats don’t lie:

• Career Record: 589-187 in 24 seasons at Arizona
• 1997 NCAA champions
• 4 Final Fours (1988, 1994, 1997, 2001)
• 24 Consecutive NCAA appearances
• 13 First Round Draft Picks
• Great NBA Players: Sean Elliott, Steve Kerr, Damon Stoudemire, Mike Bibby, Michael Dickerson, Jason Terry, Gilbert Arenas, Luke Walton, Richard Jefferson and Andre Igoudala.

Beyond all of that, he gave me something to look forward to. Whether I was a normal curly haired kid in elementary school, a dork in high school, an outspoken college kid (amazing how many UST bastards liked Duke), or a basketball passionate post-graduate, I always had Arizona basketball to look forward to every winter; even more every March.

That is why I am writing this post. As I was sitting at my computer, reading through various RSS feeds that I had caught while I was away on business travel, it finally set in for me; Lute is gone. Gandhalf the White is no longer. The most consistent thing I have ever known in my life is gone. I really don’t know what will happen to the Arizona basketball program. I think about all of this, and it started to get a little dusty in the room.

God bless you Lute. You are a class act.

Lute Olson and Me is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0

Hello, my name is Jeff Sauer, Grandson of Norb and Lenore, and welcome to our celebration of 60 years of marriage between Lenore and Norby, or as we affectionately call them; Lenorby.

I will be your master of ceremonies for this event, and I hope that you’ll soon find that you are in good hands. Grandpa chose me to host this event because he says I remind him of a young Bob Hope.

I have no idea what that means, but I am taking it as a compliment.

Enough about me. The real reason why we are here is to celebrate the 60th wedding anniversary of Mr. and Mrs. Norbert T Koch.

60 years! 6 – 0. That’s not a typo. 60 years! That is a long time for two people to be together. In fact, this type of longevity is almost unheard of in modern times. This is a testament to their long lasting love and devotion.

To see how they made it this far, let me give you some insight into how things came to be.

Norbert Thomas Koch and Mary Lenore Leroux had modest upbringings. Norb grew up in North Minneapolis, back in a time where it was safe to drive through the neighborhood with your windows down. Lenore grew up in the town of Hamel, on a farm that is now a high school and a housing development.

Due to some unfortunate turns in life, Norb was tasked with helping to prove for his family from an early age. In order to make ends meet, he had to make money in whatever way he could, including selling newspapers and shoveling sidewalks. One can only assume that working at such an early age instilled him with a great work ethic, and the drive necessary to achieve his own financial independence.

Lenore was a farm girl, and still has the green thumb to prove it. Over the years I have heard many great stories about Grandma’s days on the farm, but I think my favorite is the story about when she took the truck for a spin with her sister Jeanette when grandma wasn’t yet a teenager.

When the time came, Norb served our country and defended the free world in the Second World War. He was stationed in the Pacific and had one of the most dangerous positions in the entire Air Force. Fortunately, he survived without a scratch and made it back stateside a true hero, armed with an arsenal of ambition and some great bedtime stories for his grandchildren.

Upon arrival back to the states, Grandpa enrolled in college at the University of Minnesota, where he played baseball while completing his college degree. It was through baseball that Norb fatefully met Lenore, and it was through persistence that Grandma finally let him take her out on a date. After some time of courtship, they were married.

Grandpa sold life insurance and made quite a living for himself. I would go into details of individual deals and the perseverance involved with making it in the life insurance business, but I don’t want to put everyone to sleep. While I have been blessed with the ability to find humor in everyday things, it’s almost impossible to keep a crowd excited when talking about Life Insurance. I’m not a miracle worker here!

However, I do know first hand that Grandpa must have been really good at his profession, because he has a wealth of trophies corresponding to his various achievements.

• Salesman of the year – (13 times).
• President of the Minneapolis Association of Life Underwriters.
• The George Washington Founding Father of Modern Life Insurance Sales Lifetime Achievement Award. (OK, I made that one up)

You name it, and he’s got a trophy for it. During his day, Norb was like the Arnold Palmer of insurance sales (or for the younger crowd, he was the Tiger Woods of his field).

Insurance aside, when you look at his trophy case, you’ll also notice that he was once the Tiger Woods of Minnesota Golf. This guy has more trophies than I can count. There is so much bronze on his shelves that the only thing missing is a bronze statue of Norby himself!

Proving that they are meant to be together, Grandma has amassed herself quite a few trophies as well. In fact, rumor has it that she can beat Grandpa on the links nowadays. Both can shoot their age on the golf course, which I find quite impressive. I would need to be in the Guinness Book of World Records as the world’s oldest man before I could ever accomplish that feat!

But their real trophies are their children, grandchildren and great grand children; all two hundred of us. Well, maybe not 200, but there are quite a few descendants in the room today. That’s what happens when you have 8 children!

Nowadays 8 children is nearly unheard of, but in their time, this was expected. Much credit is due to their strong catholic upbringing as well as the fact that this all took place before the widespread use of contraceptives.

Catholicism also contributed to the naming of their 8 children. Resulting in their children being named after miracles past. Constance, Frances, Richard, Patricia, Theresa, Paul, Robert and Carol. It’s like a who’s who of Sainthood.

Those 8 children yielded 21 grandchildren and 4 great grandchildren, which is a remarkable feat in itself. Even more remarkable is how we have all grown up to be very well adjusted adults. Being among the oldest of the cousins, I had the pleasure of seeing everyone grow up since they were in diapers.

In fact, it’s hard for me to imagine some of you out of diapers (especially you little Zachy).
Grandma and Grandpa are so proud of their grandchildren, always touting our accomplishments to anyone who would lend an ear, and constantly impressing their friends with a seemingly never ending string of A honor roll’s and sports trophies.

I didn’t fully realize the extent of how much they talked about us until I was in the 10th grade. On the first day of school, I found myself sitting in science class with our teacher reading off the roster of students for our class. He read through most of the alphabet without a hitch, and all was going well until he got to the S’s. He took one look at my name, read it out loud and said “Jeff Sauer, hey, I know your grandparents! ”

Awkward!

I had no idea how to react to this. How did this guy know my grandparents? How did he know my first and last name if it wasn’t Koch? Are people going to think I’m a nerd because of this? There goes my shot at winning the high school popularity contest! Being in 10th grade, the last thing that I wanted to be associated with is being the kid whose grandparents knew the teacher. That’s like putting a gigantic “kick me” sign on my back for the rest of the year.

Embarrassment aside, I was also curious as to how the heck this guy would know my name and how he knew Lenorby. It turns out that my teacher, was a waiter at a Chinese restaurant called the Pagoda. My grandparents were regular customers of his for several years (we all know how loyal Lenorby are to Chinese food joints) and had been telling Roger about our achievements ever since we were in elementary school! Knowing grandma and grandpa, I wasn’t surprised at all, but I WAS surprised that he knew who I was given the fact that I have a different last name! Those must have been some in depth conversations at the Pagoda.

As you can see, it is obvious that Grandma and Grandpa love every one of their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Over the past 60 years they have instilled this love into everyone around them and they have served as a catalyst for all of our life’s achievements.

Like any long-term relationship, it takes work to keep things running smoothly on a day-to-day basis. I’m not going to lie and say that everything has been good every step along the way, but the good far outweighs the bad, and overall the past 60 years have been great!

I am honored that I was given this opportunity to be the MC of this event. I love my grandparents with all my heart, and they have instilled so many good qualities in me that I am a better person as a result. My fathers’ parents passed away before I was born, so I have only known two grandparents in my life. While nothing can take the place of two sets of grandparents, I feel you did everything you could to make up that gap for me.

Thank you for everything you have done. I love you so much. Happy 60th anniversary.

Love, your little Jeffy.

60th Anniversary Speech is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0

• “No big deal – she’s probably not serious and I bet we’ll be back together…. we looked hot together!”
• “WTF??? I didn’t even get to have break up sex?”
  
• “She hasn’t answered my last 10 calls, but if I call her one more time, I think that I’ll finally get through to her. She must have been taking a hot shower for the past 3 hours!”
• “Where the single ladies at?”
• “Time to get Drunk!”
• “I’ll show her… I am going to start a hardcore work out program, drop 10 pounds, get six pack abs and never be happier.”
• “I want her back… I wonder if she has found someone else yet. I wonder if he’s buffer than me… could I beat him up?”
• “Did she really just give me the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ speech? I invented that speech!!!”
• “I know who will help me through this; N ’sync! I’m busting out my No Strings Attached CD, and I’m doing it now”
• “Wow – did that just happen? What is wrong with her? I even bought her flowers. ‘Best boyfriend’ my ass!”

Getting Dumped is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0

While the thoughts in this story remain true, the “happy ending” vibe is no longer.

*Original Story*

This story is dedicated to everyone who listened to me during the times where I had poor luck with girls. Thank you for telling me to “hang in there” and for those of you said “one day, it will just happen, and it will be wonderful”. Although your words seemed so far from reality at the time, I can now truly say that they came true. And it is indeed wonderful.

Note: This story is three months in the making, and long overdue.

It took me so long to write this story that some details may be a little fuzzy or even embellished, but the premise remains true; this is the story of how I met my girlfriend.

Saturday was St. Patty’s day. I celebrated my 1/8th Irish heritage with nearly a full bottle of Jameson whiskey. I started drinking at around 10 AM, and ended up getting a sick and passing out in the back seat of my car at around 4 PM. Let’s just say I overdid it a little!

Two days later, I was still in recovery mode, and alcohol was the last thing from my mind. So when I got a random call from my friend Katie Moen on a Monday morning. “Hey Sauer, what are you doing this Saturday”. I quickly responded “Anything that does not involve drinking.”

“How would you like to be on the other side of the bar for once?” she replied “we have an opening this weekend to be the Onion’s Non-Celebrity bartender, and I think you would be a good fit.”

I tried to play coy, acting as if I didn’t wasn’t very excited, but that quickly subsided when I responded “Let me think here… YES!” There was nothing that I wanted to do more than bartend for my friends. Even better, Katie told me the details of the promotion and said that my friends got to drink for free! I couldn’t sign up fast enough.

She told me that the only thing I needed to do in order to make my bartending gig official was to send her a photo of myself and list 3 reasons why I am “not so famous”. Not a problem at all; I can give you about 100 reasons why I’m not famous. The only difficulty I had was narrowing this thing down to a single photo and a list of three reasons. Given that this write-up was for the Onion, a paper containing the most consistently funny writers in the world, I felt obligated to attack my bartending gig with a little humor.

So, I sent Katie some of the stupidest photos that I have ever taken of myself, 6 in total. I told her to look through them and pick the one that she liked the most.

I also sent her a list of three reasons why I’m not famous. These included:

• * Being the worlds greatest Cable Guy apologist
• * Advanced computer programming and database knowledge
• * Unparalleled beer chugging skills

I’m definitely not famous for any of these things (although in a perfect world, my beer chugging skills *would* make me famous). I included a reference to the movie Cable Guy, because I absolutely love to talk about how underrated the film is. I also included a computer programming and database “shout out” in case any Onion reading entrepreneurs out there happened to be in need of someone who can program computers AND chug beers.

Katie showed my list and photos to her co workers, and they decided that I would be a perfect bartender. Her exact words were “Dude, we all agree that you are perfect for this venture. Now just start inviting anyone and everyone you know…cause you get a free bartab for you and your friends for your 2 hour jaunt.”

I couldn’t have agreed more wholeheartedly. Now that my bartending gig was becoming a reality, I had to think fast and figure out a plan of action. The first thing I did was decide on what to wear. I mentally ran through my movie knowledge, trying to decide on a “costume” for the evening. I soon came to the realization that there weren’t many options. I could have gone with the whole Coyote Ugly outfit that I wore for Halloween two years ago; but frankly, I wasn’t really feeling the spandex and tube top combo.

The only other movie that I could think of was the 1980’s Tom Cruise Cocktail. I only saw the movie once, and that was when I was like 8 years old, so I didn’t remember much about the movie. In fact, the only two things I took away from the film were 1) that there were boobies! And 2) the bar that Tom Cruise wanted to open was named “Cocktails and Dreams”.

Naturally, I did what every Internet Savvy person would do: I “Googled” the term “Cocktails and Dreams T Shirt”. No luck! All I came up with was a few MySpace profiles and perhaps an IMDB page for the movie Cocktail. Next, I did an image search to try and find the logo from the movie. I found an image and clicked on it. It actually took me to a t-shirt seller who had the shirt in stock!! Amazingly, after my search initially proved fruitless, I was able to find a back-door into a t-shirt web site, and somehow ordered it online! God I love the Internet!

So I ordered the shirt and chose ground shipping. It was a Tuesday, and I was praying that it would arrive by Saturday (plus, 2 day shipping was more expensive than the shirt, and I am incredibly frugal).

The next thing I did was write an email to all of my friends, asking them to come enjoy free beers with me behind the bar. Here is the email I sent:

• * Have you ever wanted to see me make a fool out of myself while attempting to bartend? (uncoordinated)
• * Do I still owe you that beer that I promised to “pay back the next time I see you”? (deadbeat)
• * Do you want to see me wearing a “Cocktails and Dreams” T-shirt that I ordered this morning off the Internet solely for this occasion? (awesome)
• * Are you as much as a Cable Guy (the Jim Carrey movie, not Larry the Cable Guy) fan as I am? (dedicated)

If you answered yes to any of these questions, then I encourage you to get your butt over to the Moose on Monroe and spend a few hours with me this Saturday evening.

Below is an excerpt from the Onion detailing the rest of the event. The picture of me drinking out of a Flamingo cup is classic! Email me with questions.

Jeff Sauer

“Non-Celebrity Bartender of the Week”

theman@jeffsauer.com

Saturday, March 24 at 9pm, 21+		The ONION: Jeff Sauer, Non-Celebrity Bartender of the Week
		Jeff is not so famous for: * Being the world’s greatest Cable Guy apologist * Advanced computer programming and database knowledge * Unparalleled beer chugging skillsCome see him in action from 9 to 11pm this Saturday night. All non-celeb bartenders enjoy two hours of crazy bartending fun, a $100 bar tab for you and your friends, and a break from your boring, everyday routine.WOULD YOU LIKE YOUR OWN $100 BAR TAB? If you would like to become the next non-celebrity bartender, email twincitiespromo@theonion.com with “Moose” in the subject field for more details. Be sure to include a photo of yourself and a list of your claims to non-fame.Moose on Monroe 356 Monroe St. Minneapolis (612) 623-4999

After a while the cute bartender came back and said “excuse me, but what did you order again?” I said Captain and Diet, and then made mention that I was also there to be the non-celebrity bartender. She introduced herself as Sarah, and told me that I would be working with her all night. Lucky me! I thought I would be stuck bartending with some asshole of a guy, and I end up being the apprentice of a beautiful, seemingly nice woman.

She told me that I could come behind the bar as soon as my friends started to arrive. I told her that my friends likely would not arrive on time (9 PM), and that it would be more like 9:30 at the earliest. She said that would be fine if I went behind the bar at 9, and finally gave me my Captain and Diet. The guy next to me took a liking to Sarah, and started hitting on her.

“What is your name?”
“How old are you?”
“Do you like older guys?”
“Do you want to hook up?”
“Where did you grow up?”
“Do you have a day job?”
“What is your middle name?” and on and on…

This guy was persistent! He also had no shame. Sarah was a good sport and answered all of his questions truthfully. I listened intently, because I knew that I would be spending the rest of the night working beside her, so it was good to learn as much as possible about my bar mentor.

Finally, 9 o’clock rolled around, and I assumed my position behind the bar. Sarah taught me the basics and told me the rules. She said that I couldn’t touch the register, and I needed to keep track of each drink that I served. She would total up my drinks served, and once I hit $100, my bartending gig was over.

I was a little nervous at this point, because I had no idea what to expect. In addition, none of my friends had arrived, so I was a little embarrassed at the situation. The only “friend” I had at this point was the drunk guy who had been sitting right next to me. Once he learned that I was able to give out free drinks, I quickly became his best friend. “Let’s do a shot” he said, to which I responded “sure!” I needed to take the edge off, and it was free, so why not. So, I asked Sarah how to make shots, and she said “I will make them… and I will take one with you too!” Sarah made a round of Jag bombs for the three of us, as well as the waitress Jessica.

“Cheers!”

When we were done, I asked Sarah if I should write it down on my list. She said “just write down two of them and you’ll be fine”. Excellent! She wasn’t a drink counting Nazi bartender, so I knew I had a little leeway with the whole “keeping track of drinks” thing.

At about 9:20 I still was friendless. Justifying myself, I said to Sarah “I really do have friends… seriously!” I am not sure if she believed me. Here I was; a dorky guy who was wearing a t-shirt from a lame Tom Cruise movie, and who had a picture of himself in the Onion drinking from a Flamingo Cup. She must have thought that I was the biggest dork in the world.

My first friends arrived at about 9:30 (Langhoff and his girl, the two headed monster known as Mando/Brando), and eased my tensions a little. I poured them drinks, and had a drink for myself. I was starting to feel a little more comfortable behind the bar (and a little inebriated as well).

More friends arrived, and more drinks were poured. Sarah and I were getting along great, and she was genuinely laughing at my bad jokes! I was like a kid in a candy store! I was behind a bar, bullshitting with my friends, making drinks for myself, and flirting with the gorgeous bartender. Even better, I was having so much fun that I would occasionally “forget” to write down the drinks that I served. Whoops! I served my friends for an hour before Sarah totaled up our tab. I was crossing my fingers that I would be under $100 so that I could stay behind the bar when Sarah came back with the tab total: $57!

Holy crap! I probably poured 40 drinks, and the total was $57! That meant that I could continue behind the bar for another 45 minutes and serve my friends drinks! Even better, that meant that I could spend 45 minutes flirting with Sarah, who was slowly becoming my new best friend (and I was getting a crush on her too).

The next 45 minutes flew by… and all of the sudden, my $100 bar tab was fully dried up (I use the number $100 loosely, because I probably served closer to $300 worth of drinks and shots). My friends were still at the bar when the tab ran out, and a lot of them decided to stay and finish their drinks. I asked Sarah if was in the way and she said “not at all… you are doing great! You can stay behind the bar as long as your friends keep buying drinks”.

Awesome. Even though I could easily have left the bar and joined my friends as patrons, I decided to stay and enjoy my time behind the bar. Time just flew by, and Sarah and I were really enjoying each others company. At 11:30, Sarah’s boss pulled her aside and asked “why the heck is that guy still behind the bar? He was supposed to be out of here by 11!” To which she responded:

“He’s really helping me out, the customers love him, and he’s doing a great job… plus I think he’s really cute!”

Of course, she made it a point to tell me her conversion 5 minutes later; emphasizing the fact that she thought I was cute. I knew at that point that our attraction was mutual, and all I could think about was asking her out on a date (or at least getting her number).

The only way I was leaving from behind that bar was in a body bag! My friends started trickling out of the bar, and I eventually started serving the actual bar clientele. They loved me! I was bullshitting with every customer, having a great time, and thoroughly enjoying my night. I did the dishes behind the bar, made drinks for Jessica the waitress, convinced Sarah to make more shots, and gave myself a steady stream of Captain Diet’s.

My last friend rolled out at 12:30, and at that time Sarah told me “you may want to think about leaving soon. This place gets a little shady after 12:30, and you don’t want to get stuck with a crazy customer.”

I thanked Sarah for a great time, and told her that bartending was a great experience. She said “I had a great time too. So, where are you going now? To your Wife? To your girlfriend?” Sadly, I had to tell her the truth; I had nobody to go home to… sad as it was, I also viewed it as the perfect opportunity to ask if she would like to go out some time. She wrote her number on a cocktail napkin, and told me that she would love to continue this on another occasion.

I took the number and entered it into my phone. Then I called her right away to make sure it wasn’t the number for the National Rejection Line. Miraculously, her phone started ringing, and I knew that I would be seeing her again.

I called her a few days later and told her that I was very interested in going out with her in the near future. Unfortunately, I had to leave for LA the next day on business, so we had to plan a date a week in advance. I told her that we should talk via email when I was gone, because it is the easiest way for me to communicate when I’m on business.

She emailed me the next morning, and asked me a bunch of questions about my personal life… kind of a “get to know you” type thing. I was sitting on the plane when I received the email, and the flight was about to take off, so I decided to respond to her when I touched down in LA. Somehow, the hydraulics on the plane malfunctioned, so my flight was delayed. So, I took the opportunity to respond to her email. I answered her questions, and asked her some of my own.
We went back and forth a few times during the delay, and I learned that we have a lot in common.

We continued to email each other throughout the week that I was in LA, and I met up with her and some friends when I arrived in Minneapolis on a Friday night. Sunday, April 1st was our first official date, and we had a great time! We went to dinner in Uptown and attended an Improv show starring Katie Moen (who turned out to be the match maker entire thing). When the moment was right, we had our first kiss… and the rest is history.

It took several forces working in congruent motion for Sarah and Jeff to meet. Two people from different backgrounds, different towns and different circumstances coming together and fatefully meeting at the most unassuming of all events.

When I agreed to be the non-celebrity bartender on March 24, 2007, finding a girlfriend was the furthest thing on my mind. Three months later, I fall more in love with Sarah each day. She is an amazing person who has lived a lot of life, and has a wonderful attitude. She is the type of person who will try anything once, is very open minded, and brilliant in mind and soul. Best yet, she really likes me and enjoys all that I have to offer.

For years, people have told me that I will find the perfect girl when I least expect it. They were absolutely right.

Thank you for that advice
Thank you Katie Moen
Thank you the Onion
Thank you Moose on Monroe
Thank you Sarah Marquis

You have helped make my life more complete.

How I Met My (ex) Girlfriend is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0

Given the recent struggles of the Minnesota basketball program, it is difficult to look back and remember the success of years past. As we are approaching the 10 year anniversary of the last Gophers basketball team of significance, I would like to take this opportunity to look back on a coaching career filled with many victories, fewer losses, and a scandal that sent a basketball program into the Big Ten basement. Yes, I am going to write about Clem Haskins, the subject of my heterosexual man crush as a teenager.

Before the academic scandal broke out at the U of M, the Gophers spent much of the nineties building a nationally recognized and respected basketball program. Clem Haskins was the mastermind behind building the Gophers program, and he did so by recruiting some of the best basketball players in the state of Minnesota (Sam Jacobson and John Thomas), great players from other states (Quincy Lewis and Voshon Leonard) and ready to contribute junior college transfers (Bobby Jackson).

His teams always made the NCAA tournament, and one of them even made it to the final four. Watching a winning team at the University of Minnesota inspired many young kids to play basketball and many of them even dreamed of playing at the University of Minnesota. Kids from all over Minnesota and surround states flocked every summer to attend the Clem Haskins basketball camp, each excited to show off their basketball skills in front of the beloved coach of our local team. I’m not sure if I fit that profile while growing up, but I know one thing; I enjoyed myself both times that I had the opportunity to attend his camp.

Attending basketball camp during my youth was a great experience. There is probably nothing that I would rather have done while growing up. Where else can a kid experience living in the college dorms, eating dorm food with no parents to tell you what to eat (I had an ice cream cone with every meal), and play basketball for 8 hours a day! I had such fond memories of my time at basketball camp that I ultimately chose to attend college at the University of St. Thomas; the host of Clem Haskins basketball camp.

Everything about attending the Clem Haskins camp was surreal, and the experience was priceless. The only negative aspect of the camp was really something that was beyond control; the fact that we were required to play many of our games as “Shirts vs. Skins”.

You see, I was a VERY skinny kid all the way through 4th grade. Then I discovered Mountain Dew, Nacho Cheesier Doritos and a love for food. As a result, I spent most of my teenage years (and even adulthood) concerned about how I looked shirtless. It wasn’t a pretty sight! Let’s just say that I definitely had a nice “Mountain Dew Belly” and a budding pair of “boy boobs”. Playing shirtless was not a fun experience for me, especially given the cruelty of most teenage boys toward those who were different.

However, I soon learned that if you could play basketball well, the other kids would often look past your physical differences. All you needed to do was put the ball in the hoop and nobody would make fun of you. Fortunately, I was a good player at the time, and did well for myself on the basketball court at the camp. In fact, my teammates always enjoyed playing with me, because I was a team player, and I got a lot of opportunities to impress the coaches at the camp. I even had the opportunity to impress my hero, Clem Haskins.

It is not easy to impress Clem Haskins at his camp. This is not due to his quest for perfection in his pupils, but rather because Clem Haskins was NEVER AT THE CAMP! During a 4 day camp, we saw Clem for a total of about 15 minutes. 5 minutes when we arrive at the camp (and parents are able to see Clem in person), 5 minutes while we’re playing basketball during camp, and 5 minutes when the camp has a “graduation ceremony” for the players (another opportunity for face time with the parents).

So, during the course of a 4 day basketball camp, we only had a total of 5 minutes to impress Clem. I made the most of this time, and during a stroke of wonderful basketball playing, and dumb luck, I caught Clem’s attention. Shirtless and with complete disregard for my personal safety, I dove after a loose ball that was heading out of bounds. I got to the ball just before it crossed the line, and while I was still on the ground, I passed the ball to a teammate for an easy basket. I started to pick myself up to go down the court when I noticed that I was sitting at the feet of my hero Clem Haskins. I looked up at him with puppy dog eyes wondering whether I impressed him and he said to me “good hustle kid”!!

I impressed Clem Haskins! My head immediately started racing; “Maybe he’ll give me a scholarship!” “Maybe I’ll get an award for ‘camper of the year’!” Then I realized that I was an overweight white kid who was 6’2” and could only play the center position. It took me a while to realize that there aren’t any 6’2” centers in Division I basketball. Heck, there aren’t any 6’2” centers in Division III basketball!

After camp finished, and my hopes of being a future Gopher were dashed, I started to sit back and watch the Gophers even more closely than prior to camp. I watched nearly every game on television, and even followed their recruiting patterns to see who the University was recruiting.

In 1997, the Gophers had a great season, and were seeded #1 in the NCAA tournament. They were so good that they made it to the Final Four, ultimately losing to Kentucky in what I remember as the greatest Final Four in college basketball history (my favorite team, Arizona, ended up winning the championship and my other favorite at the time, North Carolina made the Final Four as well).

Not too long after they made the Final Four, an academic scandal broke out, implicating the basketball program of severe wrongdoing. An academic aide for the Gophers basketball team named Jan Ganglehoff came forward and announced that she had helped former and current basketball players cheat on their schoolwork. Several of the best Gophers players were implicated in the scandal, and many of them lost their scholarships.

They even showed the papers written by Ganglehoff on the news. One of the papers she wrote was for a player named Courtney James, and it was entitled “Malcolm X and Martin Luther King: Same or different?” I distinctly remember this paper title for several reasons. First, I have always wondered why if someone smart is writing a paper for someone who is not very smart; wouldn’t they make the title grammatically correct? I also thought it was hilarious that a middle aged white woman wrote a paper comparing Malcolm X and MLK. That’s almost like me being the webmaster for a site about Historically Black Colleges and Universities. Oh, wait, I am .

As a result of the scandal, the Gophers were forced to remove their 1997 Final Four Banner from Williams Arena. Also, any record books referencing the Gophers 1996-1997 season were forced to be deleted, and all of their games were forfeited retroactively. Last, my boyhood hero, Clem Haskins, was fired.

The Minnesota Golden Gophers basketball team hasn’t been the same for me ever since. Say what you will about Clem Haskins and his tenure with the Gophers. Whether you agree or disagree with his recruiting tactics, his lax academic policies and the way his decisions left the Gophers basketball program in shambles, I think you can agree on one thing; his Gophers teams were a pleasure to watch!

I miss Clem Haskins.

Why I miss the Clem Haskins era at the University of Minnesota is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0

For those of you who don’t know Molly, she’s a good friend of mine from college who came to the Twin Cities from Chicago and ended up moving back to Chicago after college. She’s a really smart and fun girl, and I’ve spent many a good time hanging out and partying with her both during and after the college experience. In addition to being smart and fun, Molly is also a little crazy. Not crazy in a “burning down her ex-boyfriend’s apartment complex” type of way, but rather “this girl is so much fun that it’s crazy”.

Molly would call me a “gaytard” if I wrote a story about her and acted all sappy, so I’m going to get sentimental in another way, by posting a list of my top 3 Molly Walsh stories.

When I was a senior in college, I found myself dateless to my cousin Dave’s wedding. Rather than go solo, I decided to bring Molly Walsh. This may or may not have been a good decision.

It was good in the fact that I didn’t have to fly solo to yet another wedding (I don’t have a good track record of having a significant other at the time of weddings), and I had a fun person to attend the wedding with; someone who likes to drink, dance, and have a good time.

It may have been a bad decision because of something Molly said around my impressionable 14 year old cousin, Nick. My cousin Nick is like the little brother that I never had. He’s a lot of fun to be around, and he doesn’t care when I pick on him (I never had a younger brother or someone to pick on growing up, so he fills that void). Nick also looks up to me, so I obviously don’t like to embarrass myself around him. You know, that “I have to set a good example” bullshit.

That’s why I’m lucky that there were no long term effects from when my date to the wedding (Molly) called me a “gaytard” right in front of him.

I’m not sure what we were talking about, or what the background was behind her calling me such a hilarious name (seriously, gaytard is genius. It’s calling me both a homosexual and a retarded person… it’s two insults into one, a nearly crippling insult to recover from), but I do remember Nick’s reaction.

He thought it was the funniest thing he has ever heard in his life! He repeated it every 5 minutes, and told me that he was going to call me that for the rest of my life! Naturally, I told him I’d kick his ass if he called me that again, but he saw through my idle threats and called me a gaytard for what seemed like an eternity!

Simple exchanges like “Hey nick, get me a beer” (Nick and I have an arrangement where he is required to get me a beer every time I ask him), became complicated with him saying “no, gaytard” or even “sure, gaytard”.

The night couldn’t end soon enough! Even worse than that, the long-term implications of the nickname seemed to be even worse. There was the potential that my little cousin would be calling me a gaytard for the rest of my life, thus shifting the balance of our big cousin/little cousin friendship.

Luckily, Nick forgot about the entire gaytard incident the next time I saw him, and the power balance was restored in my favor.

While I was visiting Molly in Chicago last year, we went out partying and she showed me around the town (well, around the Lincoln Park and Wrigleyville areas). We had a great time drinking, dancing and staying out late (some bars are open til 4 AM in Chicago). When we got done with the bar, we all wandered back to her place to go to sleep, presumably in a bed or on a couch.

I guess Molly had a different idea.

I was visiting Chicago with Bill, and we were both staying on the couch at Molly’s place. Before we went to bed, we both decided to brush our teeth and that other stuff. His stuff was located in Molly’s downstairs bathroom, which was open, so he was able to go in, do his thing, and go to sleep. My stuff was located in the upstairs bathroom, so I presumed that I’d be able to do the same thing.

It wasn’t that easy. Some jerk was in the bathroom for like 25 minutes! I had to pee really badly, and after drinking all night, I was short on patience. Still, I sat outside the bathroom waiting, hoping the door would open shortly. It never opened!

Finally, I decided that I couldn’t wait any longer, and I knocked on the door. No response.

Knock again. No response.

So I decided to open the door and see what was going on.

To my delight (or dismay), there was Molly Walsh, with her pants around her ankles, sleeping on the toilet!

Well, I’m not sure if she was actually “sleeping”, it was more like she was passed out.

So, being the good friend that I am, I woke her up and told her to go to her real bed.

Too bad I didn’t have my camera, though, because that would have been a GREAT photo-op!

When we were seniors in college, I had a party at my apartment near the Mississippi river in St. Paul to celebrate the “Spring Fling” dance that was to be held later that evening. It was a great party! We had about 20-30 people over drinking beer from a keg, playing Frisbee, socializing, grilling and having a great time. The weather was perfect; around 75-80 degrees and sunny.

All in all, it was a great day, but I wouldn’t go as far as saying it was the best day of my life. No, the “best day of my life” declaration was reserved for Molly, who would make that statement later in the afternoon… and it’s how she got there that makes this my #1 Molly Walsh story.

As I described before, the day was beautiful. In addition to the beautiful day, many of our best friends were gathered in one place, and there were copious amounts of beer involved. Maybe it was the sun, or maybe it was the beer, or maybe it was just the feeling of culmination stemming from this being our senior year in college, but the moment seemed to bring Molly to the point of tears.

At some point in time, in between the beer, the sun, the Cheddarwursts and Frisbee, Molly got very emotional. Emotional to the point where she started crying. Naturally, the rest of the partygoers became concerned, as there was no reason for tears at this momentous occasion. I asked Molly what was wrong, and she responded “I’m just having such a good time! this is just… THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE”.

No, Molly’s tears weren’t of pain or heartbreak. They weren’t tears of fear or remorse. They were tears of joy, and they were symbolic of the best day of her life.

Molly passed out a few minutes later.

So long Molly Walsh is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0

Definition:

• The story of my young adulthood; two words responsible for hours of absent-minded movie watching.
• The sun shining through the clouds on an otherwise cloudy TV day.
• Often the only redeeming quality of a low-budget “B movie”.
• The real reason why people subscribe to HBO.

The glimmer of hope associated with a BN rating is enough to keep me watching a movie solely based on the promise of Nudity. Will it be boobs? Who’s boobs? Or is it a butt? Maybe a couple of butts? I’m not sure, but I better watch to find out!

The BN rating (or even it’s more adult oriented cousin Nudity (N) rating) is sort of like a money-back guarantee. You are promised to see someone naked. It’s clearly written for all to see. Someone will be getting naked, and it is most likely worth watching.

Really, nothing bad can come of a movie that has an N rating placed on it. Well, that’s not entirely true. I can think of one thing that makes a complete mockery of the Nudity designation: Penis.

Yes, penis; the soberingly flaccid reminder that nudity is a two-way street.

I want my money back.

Although it probably seems my phallic concerns are far-fetched, recent events have brought my distaste to the forefront.

Namely, two HBO shows in the past two weeks have revealed more caulk than the Home Depot.

It all started with my favorite show that I love to hate: Entourage. I say that I love to hate the show for several reasons, but the most prominent is that I think the show rarely fully utilizes its potential. It’s far too often that the show cuts a plotline short (without fully developing closure) or alludes to a concept that never really happens. With that said, I watch the show religiously, and look forward to it more than any TV show since the final days of Seinfeld.

One of my major complaints about Entourage is that they never capitalize on the veritable cornucopia of nubile Hollywood debutantes willing to act sans apparel. Yes, I wish there were more Nudity on the show!

Entourage really has no reason not to show the big N; the show is on HBO, so there’s no censorship. The show follows around a bunch of guys in their early 20’s hitting up Hollywood. The big N is probably an hourly reminder of their good fortune and surroundings. Why not appease me by showing breasts?

I thought my prayers were answered two weeks ago when the opening screen of Entourage revealed the coveted BN. Wonderful! What better way to kick off the week than with a pair of 20 year old Hollywood boobs?

Don’t answer that question. Rather, answer yourself this question: What is the WORST way to kick off the new week? Answer? PENIS.

That’s right, the BN featured on Entourage wasn’t breasts at all, but rather Penis.

The worst part is, they didn’t even throw in some breasts to cancel out the peepee on the TV. Even basic algebra and childhood games of doctor adhere to the well known principles of “canceling out” and “you show me yours and I’ll show you mine”, respectively. Why couldn’t this be the case?

I’m not even going to get into the other gaudy display of dongs thrown out on another HBO show. The bottom line here is that HBO should never hide flaccid penises under the rudimentary N or BN system. Instead, they should revamp their rankings to warn unsuspecting viewers of what they are about to see.

For example, if I were in charge of HBO, I would have the following warning at the beginning of any movie showing a penis. It would be in bright letters, with an alarm sounding in the background. It would say: “WARNING: COCK”. That’s it. A simple warning that the viewer is about to see some flaccid phallus. At the very least, I would give these movies and shows a C rating to warn us of the impending dry-heaving session about to take place.

Please, HBO, I BEG this of you.

Brief Nudity is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0

Let me preface this story by saying that I am working on a retainer for a small marketing company with 4 employees. They are great guys, and I get along with them really well. One of the employees is my good friend Brandon, and he’s the one who helped me find this employment.

So I am doing contract work for this company, and one of my duties is to help build campaigns in a program called e.Piphany. It’s a very powerful program, but it’s entirely web based, so I often run into problems with the system. Sometimes it’s javascript issues. Sometimes I get “timed out”. Sometimes things just don’t work. It can be very frustrating!

It’s not just frustrating for me either. All of the other company employees have had frustrating moments as well; especially Brandon. I heard a horror story of how Brandon worked overnight to complete a task, only to find out that he had done it wrong. 10+ hours wasted.

Well, this morning I was working on e.Piphany and ran into some trouble. I had been working on the program for an hour straight and I got a javascript error, which lead to another javascript error. Followed by another javascript error. This continued on forever, and I couldn’t get out of the error! I hit refresh on my browser window, but that took me back to the login screen. I lost all of my progress!

Frustrated, I sent an instant message to Brandon saying “e.Piphany can lick my butt AND SUCK ON MY BALLS!”

I receive a response of “This is Dave”

At first I think that it was Brandon pretending to be Dave, who is the owner of the company that employs Brandon and myself, so I send back a message that says “WHOOPS!” followed by “LOL, and I’m Fired!”

He responds “That’s not funny” and “E.Piphany pays our bills… ”

This is when I “figuratively” shit my pants.

Next, I tried to backtrack and explain that I didn’t really hate the E.Piphany program (which I really don’t), I was just frustrated that I lost all of my progress.

I also tried to explain why I voiced my frustration the way that I did (talking about licking butts and sucking on balls).

I told him that it was an inside joke between Brandon and I (as well as lyrics from Team America World Police).

He responded “well what you two do in your free time is your business”.

Great!

So not only did I just publicly display my disappointment with a program we are using, but I also laced my frustration with homosexual undertones!

Although I was just joking and venting to Brandon, now my boss thinks two things:

1. That I hate the program I am using, and I don’t like doing my job
2. That I am not only gay, but gay with Brandon.

I AM NOT GAY WITH BRANDON! Now I’m not trying to discount Brandon’s attractiveness; he’s a swell looking guy! But I do want to iterate that there are not, and have never been any homosexual undertones between us. We’re merely two 24 year olds who are caught in age limboland.

You see, at times it’s surprisingly difficult for us to find a balance between being a career driven employee, and being a booze consuming, pop culture oriented person in their low 20’s!

It’s hard to find the balance between being professional and being a young adult. Something that is hilarious to friends of like age is taken as overt homosexuality by others.

Usually I do a great job of maintaining that balance. However, in this case, I failed.

Luckily, I was able to talk to Dave shortly after the incident, and he made a joke about it. He said “If you need me, I’m here to help… well, except for the butt and balls part”.

I’m pretty sure that there was no permanent damage to this incident, but you can never be sure.

I do know one thing, though, and that is that there is a time and a place for Team America, World Police, and it’s not in the workplace. Unless, of course, you are your own boss. Then you can talk about it all you want!

Poor Timing is a post from: The Jeff Sauer Experience v7.0