middle fingers, market validation, and why simpler is always better

Oh, yeah? Try me.

Let’s start with a few highlights from last week:

Out of the dozens I've reached out to, in person and via DM/email/phone, three businesses have actually followed through with offering feedback on the app. Yes, three is a win. But three is also not enough. One of them even ghosted our in-person meetup at her shop—after filling out the survey. Some things are just chin scratchers.

I'm also learning that market saturation matters. Cities like Portland seem to be responding better than Bend (a population of roughly 107K) right now—probably because businesses there are hungrier for visibility, drowning in competition and noise, and actively seeking ways to stand out. Just a hunch. This doesn’t mean shops in smaller cities don’t need new avenues for growing and retaining their customer base. It just means I have to think about things differently than I would in a metro area.

OK, so right after the no-show I also received a rejection email. Say it with me: rejection is redirection.

I'd submitted a proposal for client work—you know, the thing I'm juggling while building this app and trying to keep my actual business running.

A nonprofit had reached out to me with an RFP (request for proposal) for social media and content marketing services. I spent 20+ hours preparing a thoughtful, in-depth response, as one does with such things. Offered them a steep nonprofit discount. Was fair, generous, thorough.

Their response? Thanks but no thanks, you're three times our budget.

Three times.

Which, for those of you who aren’t in the business of preparing RFPs, means they never had the budget to begin with. wtf.

Yeah, they issued a formal RFP—which inherently signals seriousness, readiness, and the ability to compensate professional work—when their actual budget could maybe cover a part-time college intern. Maybe.

I was livid. Not just for me, but for every other agency and individual who spent days preparing proposals for an organization that was never going to be able to pay market rates. And these proposals—these clients and the work I do for them—are how I support myself (and a few others). Meaning: I take them seriously.

I then did what any professional does when they're pissed: I put up both middle fingers, yelled the kind of expletives that would have made my dad proud, and then wrote them an email.

The email I sent + wtf this has to do with building an app

Why am I going into all of this side bullshit? What does it have to do with building an app? Well, aside from it being a real thing that happened in the real life of someoen trying to build something real, I think there’s a reminder in there about how important messaging, communication, and transparency are. Generally speaking, but also especially when you’re asking others to do labor for you. Send us a proposal, fill out this survey, give me feedback, etc.

To paraphrase from my response to the nonprofit:

Here's what should be non-negotiable: Budget transparency. Respect for labor. Honesty in scope. RFPs carry weight—they communicate readiness and respect for expertise. Publishing one without the ability to compensate fairly wastes professionals' time and damages your reputation.

The same non-negotiables apply to me and what I’m asking of people throughout this product market fit validation and app-building process—transparency in what you can offer in exchange, respect for the labor people give you, honesty in next steps, no overpromising or bait and switch.

Every day is different, including tomorrow

There's this quote from my father-in-law’s former boss: "Are they shooting at you? No? Then you're okay."

The boss was apparently a Vietnam vet, but fuck it works. Because yeah, the world is on fire. The country where I live is becoming a military state. An RFP rejection is annoying and three survey takers is not enough. But they’re not bullets. Grow up. Move on.

So the day after all that rejection and rage, I pivoted.

I met with a good friend and we went to four businesses in person. Just walked in, introduced myself, talked about what I'm building, listened to their struggles and triumphs. Made actual human connections. Shared about the work I do in town.

And it was SICK.

Like, genuinely energizing. The opposite of sending emails into the void and getting ghosted. Real conversations with real people who got it immediately. Who were interested. Who wanted to stay connected.

This is the work. Not the decks and the surveys and the perfect pitch emails. The showing up. The face-to-face. The building relationships one shop and human at a time.

I've been overcomplicating everything (classic)

So… about the three businesses who actually gave feedback: I did ask them to review a 6-page overview deck, an early app demo video, AND fill out a survey.

No wonder the majority of people said yes to offering feedback and then didn't follow through. Whoops.

I mean I sent them three fucking things and asked them to consume all of them and give thoughtful feedback. While running their businesses. And living their lives.

I thought I was keeping things simple. I was for sure wrong. I was asking way too much. Enter the RFP lesson, ting!

So at 2am, unable to sleep because my brain wouldn't stop problem-solving, I reformulated everything:

One simple email. Three key app features. One survey link. That's it.

No deck. No demo. No dissertation on local business discoverability and algorithmic suppression. Just: here's what it does, here's why it matters, can you answer a few questions?

I have a feeling this is going to work better. Revolutionary concept, I know.

Now I just need to follow up with everyone I already bombarded and send them the simplified version. Cross your fingers for me.

What I'm learning (and remembering) about building in the real world

Rejection is information. That RFP debacle taught me that some organizations aren't ready for professional work, no matter how much they think they are. That's not my problem to solve. It's theirs. Also, always value labor—other peoples’ and your own.

Connection beats perfection every time. All the polished decks in the world can't replace walking into a shop and having a real conversation. I need to do more of that. Way more.

Simple wins. I keep learning this lesson over and over. Pare it down. Cut the explanation. Make it so easy that a busy business owner can engage with it in under five minutes. If they can't, you've already lost them. It’s the same shit as when I’m writing poetry or an essay: cut it, then cut it again.

Be like Aaliyah—dust yourself off, try again. Some weeks are brutal. You get ghosted and rejected and ignored. Then the next day delivers exactly what you needed. You just have to show up for both.

Perspective is everything. When things feel dramatic, ask yourself: are they shooting at you? No? Then you're okay. Keep going.

Links your algo won't surface:

Simple Made Easy — Rich Hickey's legendary talk on the difference between simple and easy. Essential for anyone who keeps overcomplicating their own work (hi, it me).

BLUF: Military Standards for Better Writing — From Animalz. Turns out there's an art to not burying your ask under six paragraphs of context.

Don’t Make Me Think — About web usability, but applies to literally everything. Including survey requests and RFP responses. This links to a PDF of Steve Krug’s entire book, which I haven’t read but probably will.

Getting Real by Basecamp — Free book on building software (and businesses) without all the bullshit. Key insight: less is more, and you're probably overdoing it. Also haven’t read it, also probably will.

Poolsuite.net — One of my favorite places on the www.

PS: Subscribe now if you're into this messy build-in-public energy. Miss the last issue? It’s right here. Also literally none of this is ever advice. I’m sharing what I learn through Babe, and perhaps you’ll learn from my mistakes. Hopefully, maybe, who knows, ily. Also if you’re not already, come hang with Babe on insta, Farcaster, and TBA 🟦.