Jayme, who was taking notes in her red leather notebook, stops writing to tell Stephanie yes.
I raise my hand too, a nod to Stephanie’s habit, to add, “I’d like to see them as well.”
“Will do. I’m also working with some out of area vloggers. I’ve got one coming in this weekend. If it’s okay, I’ll likely do a walk-about with them. Full disclosure, I’m a fan, but I promise not to fangirl,” Stephanie vows. “I’ll just take them through the park to really highlight the experience and make sure they have a great time.”
“That sounds good. I like the personal touch.” Giving Stephanie approval is easy because she would never do anything to jeopardize Americana Land.
Unlike me, apparently.
Jin leans forward, looking down the table to Stephanie. “Make sure you show them the new Find Freddy Freebird site online so you can hunt for the hidden Freddy Freebirds in the park. I’ll send you the locations so you have a heads-up and the Freddy Freebird visiting hours for photos.”
Xavier jumps in. “I’d like the pictures too. We can use them for the social media blitz.”
It’s a good segue, and Xavier takes the floor once Stephanie indicates she’s done.
“The photo offensive line has been a pretty easy process. People are excited about their visits to Americana Land, so a few keyword searches led to plenty of options. We did media release forms with a bunch of them to be safe and have already uploaded a gallery onto the park’s website and changed our focus on our social media pages to target the teen to twenties demographic.”
“What’s the response been?” I ask.
“Good engagement, actually,” Xavier answers. “We’re not seeing the follow-through with ticket sales at the gate yet, but the online responses have been mostly positive.”
Jayme’s head jerks up. “Mostly? Show me.”
Xavier clicks around on his laptop and then throws the image to the screen behind me. It’s a picture of a young, pretty woman holding up an Americana Land bag with a big smile on her face. She’s decked out in full gear, including a Freddy Freebird shirt, red tie-dye shorts, AL flip flops, and an Abraham Lincoln mini top-hat headband. It looks like a photo ad for our merchandise.
“We thought this was a great variety of available items, but the comments went a bit off-kilter.” He moves our attention to the list of comments. “This one in particular.” He reads from the screen, “Make sure you keep your receipts for all that or they’ll accuse you of shoplifting, throw you to the ground, and assault you. Just ask Abby Burks.”
I grit my teeth, my vision narrowing to the point the words on the screen become black squiggles on a white background. “What the hell?”
“Delete it. Now,” Jayme orders.
Xavier looks from her to me, gauging who’s in charge, but on this, we’re in full agreement. “Do it.”
“Before I do,” Xavier continues carefully, “you need to see the rest of the thread.” He points at a link to a video of the Abby Burks incident and then highlights the other comments.
Why’d Abby play Grandma Barb like that? Should’ve just said it was a souvenir pack. Boom! Zero problem.
Junior Steen can tackle me anytime. #shootingmyshot
Abby’s a dramatic bitch. Never liked her.
Grandma Barb! She’s a fixture. Love her!
Who’s the hottie? Heyyy Daddy!
#ManagerGoals. Back your people no matter what.
This is not the improved image we’re chasing, but I look to Jayme, judging her take on the thread. Xavier notices and follows my gaze for further instruction. Jayme studies the screen quietly for a moment. “What are the analytics on that photo versus others in the same time frame?”
One of Xavier’s team, Padma, pulls that information from the file cabinet in her mind and gives Jayme a run-through of rapid-fire statistics. Jayme doesn’t seem flustered by her pace. In fact, there seems to be a computer running behind her eyes as she evaluates both the numbers and the psychological impact of the thread.
“Leave it,” Jayme decrees finally. To Padma, she specifically requests, “Keep a close watch on the analytics and thread for this one. If there’s anything . . . and I mean anything, good or bad, that you think I need to see, don’t hesitate to contact me. Anytime, day or night.”
“Same. I want to hear about anything like this sooner rather than later. Don’t wait for an update meeting,” I add to the entire team.
“One more thing on this,” Jayme says to Xavier. “Can we add some shots of team members to the photo stream? I’ve never seen or heard anything about Barbara being affectionately known as ‘Grandma Barb’. For the target demographic, that’s an emotional hit. Lots of them never had grandparents, especially not warm, accepting, unconditional love types.” She pats her chest emotionally. Her eyes going hazy, she stares off into the distance, and I wonder if she’s thinking of her own family, given the way she doesn’t like to talk about them. “Get a shot of Barbara with a group of teen or twenty-ager guests. Close, arms around each other, big smiles. One big, happy family. Tag it with the Grandma Barb hashtag and caption. Let’s see how that does for statistical engagement.”