Post #1
At 17, I was working at a restaurant in London. Five years later, I became the youngest partner at my company.
I didn’t come from a rich family. I had no prospects, no opportunities.
One night, a guy came into the restaurant wearing a really nice watch. As he left a big, £40 tip, I asked him, “What do you do?”
“I own a startup.”
I had no idea what that meant.
So when I got home later that night, I gave myself a challenge. I’d find every startup in the area that had recently raised funding and ask every single one of them for a job.
I emailed. I showed up at their offices. But nothing worked. I had no experience and no hope.
Finally, after doing this again and again, one company gave me a shot and it changed my life forever.
But that high was short-lived. When my first day in this 2-week long internship ended, my boss came up to me and said,
“Ryan, I’m going to be real with you. I don’t think you’re going to last long here.”
I had spent the day sitting around, with no idea what to do. No one told me anything.
But I needed to make this work. I had no other option. It was either this or I go back to working in the restaurant. I quickly realised startups work differently. I had to figure out how to become as useful as possible.
So I set out to make my colleagues’ lives easier. I took the work they didn’t want to do. By the end of those two weeks, I was offered a full-time job and, at 17, became an early employee at a company that went on to be worth over a billion dollars.
Startups don’t look for experience. They want young, hungry people who are willing to learn along the way.
That was me at 17.
I’ve spent my whole career working in this world and today, at 24, I am a partner at a startup that’s become one of the biggest names in its space. A company I’ve closed tens of millions of dollars for.
Post #2
I nearly burned my house down.
Every morning. For years.
I'd wake at 5:30.
Do 30 push-ups so I couldn't talk myself back into bed.
Walk to the stove, turn the burner to 4, drop in a little oil for my eggs.
Then I’d leave it heating and go take a shower.
I've always taken long showers. That was the problem.
So I introduced a threat—an existential threat that wasn't some abstract fear. It was the oil slowly heating up, while I stood under the water. If I stayed longer than a few minutes, danger.
I did this, not because I’m some sort of pyromaniac, but because I wanted to optimize my decision-making powers for the biggest decisions I make during the day.
All unnecessary decisions or small decisions needed to happen quickly, like habit.
Now I take 3-minute showers without thinking about it.
And my house is still standing.
Post #3
Every sales call I had was a knock-knock joke.
A format that made me $70k before I'd written a single line of code.
It was 2009.
I was an architecture student at Virginia Tech, and I was selling something called an executive fan page tab to executives I found on Facebook.
My logic was that anyone who called themselves an executive had an ego. Weaken it a little, then hand them a way to prove it. That was the whole pitch.
But the pitch only worked if I got them talking first. That’s where the knock-knock joke came in.
When you cold call, you have to say knock, knock, right? In some form or fashion.
If they don't say "who's there?" you've got no shot. So you need a question big enough that they have to answer it.
So my knock-knock was: are you an executive?
Here's how it went with Carrie Wilkerson, the Barefoot Executive.
"Hi, this is Carrie."
"Hey Carrie, you call yourself the Barefoot Executive. Are you a true executive?"
"Yes, I'm an executive. Who is this?"
Who's there. I had my in.
Forty minutes later, she paid me $700 over PayPal for something I hadn't built yet.
I sold about 100 of them that way.
Then spent Christmas break teaching myself to code FBML with a stranger's YouTube tutorials on one half of my screen, Dreamweaver on the other.
20 days later, all 100 pages were live.