marco polo, the buddy system, and phone sweats

Deploying the buddy system while building solo

Aside from the 2.5 years I spent working remotely at a SaaS startup, my years as a waitress, and that stint as a wildland firefighter, I've largely worked alone. Client work, failed business ideas, writing, building this app—all solo (except for my incredible future CTO).

And for the most part, I've loved it. The autonomy, the pace, structuring my days around when my brain actually works.

But this week felt different. I've been in validation mode—trying to get business owners to talk to me about whether my app solves a real problem or is just another founder's cockeyed dream.

Turns out that reaching out to strangers and asking for 10 minutes of their Tuesday is really fucking hard when you're doing it alone and it’s not your strongsuit. Cold calls and visits are just that much better with a buddy. Especially a buddy who's been in sales for decades and knows wtf they’re doing.

Marco Polo feels and why async video is super cute

Enter Marco Polo—the video messaging app that's basically FaceTime's chill younger sister.

After a particularly brutal morning of avoiding cold outreach, I sent my CTO a message: "I know I'm being a wuss and just have to rip off the bandaid, but I've been feeling really resistant to cold calling businesses and I really… just want a buddy to work with on these cold intros. I think I’m going to ask Tina."

Cue my eyes welling up and me saying something about PMS'ing.

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She sent back a thoughtful, validating message—and laughed at me, which is exactly what I needed. Because it was fucking funny.

Solo building is a misnomer. You can't actually do it alone. You need people to reflect things back to you, to remind you you're not delusional, to tell you when you're being too hard on yourself and laugh at/with you.

"Building in public" isn't just about transparency or marketing. It's about creating a network of people who can hold you when the work gets heavy.

Phone sweats and the calling script as holy grail

Last week I said I'd be "trying to get ahold of business owners" and lol, I was not entirely prepared for the exposure therapy of it all.

Before dialing a single digit, I created a calling script with multiple response pathways. Like a choose-your-own-adventure thing, but for phone anxiety. I have this irrational fear that as soon as someone picks up, I'll leave my prefrontal cortex and be unable to form coherent sentences.

I've proven this fear wrong time and time again (hello, phone banking circa 2020). And yet, the anxiety remains.

First call: sweaty, heart racing, taking deep breaths like I was about to swim a shark-filled channel at gunpoint.

And then the call was over, and I was unsurprisingly, anticlimactically, totally fine.

Better than fine. I didn't want to stop. One convo and I became a cold-calling machine. Heart still racing, but in a good way—like I'd just discovered I could do something I'd been scared of for no fucking reason.

Talking to people teaches you things

My first call was with a popular clothing shop owner. She was kind, generous, open. She spent spent time with me on the phone, plus another TWENTY minutes going through my app overview deck, then filled out the survey. We're also going to meet this Thursday morning at her shop before it opens. Hot damn.

My husband's take: "It's probably two things—she's a business owner who wants to support other women doing their own thing, and she sees potential value in what you're offering."

The second call was with a business owner where I've given poetry readings (go figure: I had no problem standing atop a huge wooden table in the middle of their shop wearing a tiny dress while speaking verse about my dead dad into a mic, yet froze when it came to calling them on the phone). Different vibe, but he agreed to meet this Friday.

And then he said something that shifted everything: I'm not sure how useful I'll be—I don't actually know how or why our customers come to us. I honestly don't know what makes them show up.

Mind. Blown.

I've been so steeped in the measurability of ecomm, SaaS, and digital analytics that I hadn't considered this singular fact: in-person brick-and-mortar data is often unknowable.

Oh, you're going to be incredibly useful, I told him. Because he was. I immediately reformulated my survey to include: "How confident are you that you know what's bringing customers in?"

This is why you make the sweaty phone calls. You can't get insights like this from your own head.

What I know about the other side

A note about validating with business owners (as opposed to consumers, which I did a few weeks ago): they're busy in a way that's hard to overstate.

When I surveyed consumers about discovering local businesses, people were mostly happy to fill out a quick form in exchange for $3 coffee money. It took them maybe 5 minutes, and the barrier to entry was low. They were getting something in exchange for their effort, almost instantly.

But business owners? They're running the business. They're dealing with staffing issues, supply chain chaos, rent, taxes, marketing, customer complaints, and probably a dozen other fires I can't even imagine. Asking them to carve out time to talk to a stranger about an app that doesn't exist yet is a big ask.

And yet, that's what I need to do. And keep doing. Because if I build this thing without understanding what they actually need—not what I think they need, but what would make their lives easier and be worth paying for—then I'm just building another product that solves a problem nobody has. Which = game over.

So I'm sitting with the discomfort. I'm picking up the fucking phone. I'm emailing and DM’ing and accepting the low response rates. I'm reminding myself that this is part of the process, and that every "no" or non-response is just clearing the path to the eventual "yeses" that matters.

Like most things, the only way through is to just keep going. Each email sent, each sweaty call made, each piece of feedback gathered is evidence you're doing the work, even when you feel delusional and can't yet see the results.

The only way through is also to let yourself have buddies. To send the Marco Polo messages. Cry when you need to. Laugh at yourself. Remember that rejection is redirection. And for fuck's sake—have some fun along the way.

Links your algo won't surface:

The Art of Memoir — I’m currently listening to this book by Mary Karr through the free library app, Libby. I voice-memo notes while I listen—here’s one of them: The goal of a voice is not to speak with objective authority, but with subjective curiosity. Also if you don’t know Libby, you should. It’s an incredible resource.

This White Dude Talking About How to Talk to Users — Y Combinator's mini guide to talking to users without leading them to the answers you want to hear.

Rejection is Redirection — I’m not a big TedTalk fan, but I am a big fan of rejection. So is Jia Jiang. Check out his TED talk about seeking out rejection to build resilience.

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 🟦.