It finally happened, First name / friend. 

 

The dream I've had since puberty has finally come true. 

 

I met a man at the airport. 

 

 

Meeting someone at the airport has always seemed like the most ideal, serendipitous, romantic, story-worthy way to find your person, so… this is a big deal.

 

In between chatting up an old man on his way to Paris and commiserating with a woman in the wheelchair ahead of me in the security line, I noticed him.

 

 

 

To absolutely no one's surprise, I'm headed to my second home — well, my best friend's home, but same thing — in Phoenix for the weekend, excited to see my BFF and engage in what my dad would call “deviant behavior” (aka drink a little more than I normally would, and wear a shirt that says cowboy pillows to a concert tonight).

 

What IS a surprise, though, is that I actually decided to look good at the airport for once. 

 

Normally, I show up looking half homeless, half sleep-deprived, with my attention so focused on my laptop the second I make it through security that I don't even remember there are other people around.

 

 

 

…and you already know I have ridiculous, unwavering, unwarranted confidence to begin with, so today, this airport was basically my runway.

 

I'm strutting my stuff through the terminals.

I'm looking cute with my matching sweat set on.

My fresh blowout is shining, thanks to the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling window light.

My brand new all-navy Beis luggage has me looking put-together as hell.

 

So, when I saw the tall ass man from the security line was at my gate, I thought to myself:

 

“God knew what he was doing today!” — because, really, looking cute at the airport is so out of character for me that I could come up with no other explanation than Jesus knowing something I didn't. 

 

Now, of course, I typically notice tons of hot (or maybe medium ugly? it is a proximity thing after all) boys at the airport, but I always feel like we're ships passing in the night. By the time you see him, he's gone, jetting off to a different destination in the opposite direction.

 

 

When the flight staff called for boarding, I made my second out-of-character choice of the day, and got up early.

 

 

I headed to the bathroom real quick, with a plan to say something to him when I got back. 

 

To my delight — again, thanks to what I'm assuming was God's intervention — he was standing at the back of the line, alone, looking forward, completely undistracted.

 

 

Now, this part is when I started to act within character — aka just saying shit without thinking about what's coming out of my mouth. 

 

“Dayum,” I said, with a shockingly Texan-trucker-like accent (don't ask, I don't know why, it just happened), gesturing to the long line in front of us.

 

He looked down at me, confused, then registered that I was referencing the line, as I cursed myself for my lack of rizz. 

 

I don't even know what he said back — some sort of undiscernable agreement nod-and-noise combo — but I knew it was my moment.

 

“Business or pleasure?” I asked (in my normal New England accent this time, thank God).

 

 

 

Of course, I knew this question would be reciprocated, and we would get to talking about how I've been to Arizona 5 times in the last 12 months, and he'd ask how I was able to do that, and I'd tell him what I do for work, and he'd ask what a copywriter is, and I'd explain that I write websites for business owners…

 

 

So, obviously that's what happened. 

 

And, because I'd planned exceptionally today, I was armed and ready with more than just the shiny hair and the matching set. 

 

I pulled out my business card, handed it to him, and said…

 

 

Andddd… let's just say, I have a date waiting for me at baggage claim. 😏💁🏻‍♀️

 

 

Now, unfortunately, I can't teach you about my airport rizz... I wouldn't even know where to start. Like I said, I'm typically a moldy rat.

 

 

 

On Tuesday, October 31st at 1pm EST, I'm teaching a masterclass all about how to write a sales page — but not just any sales page.

 

An AIRPORT RIZZ LEVEL SALES PAGE.

 

…one that WORKS. Converts like hell. Convinces everyone who clicks. Brings in the cash. Does what it's supposed to do for you.

 

You'll want to send everyone you know to it.

You'll actually make money from it.

You'll get real results from it.

You'll be hype about showing it off. 

You'll use it to launch your offer over and over again. 

 

 

 

…and considering this exact sales page formula earned one of my clients $204,000 in ONE LAUNCH not too long ago, I'm willing to bet it'll be the best $99 you've spent in a while. 

 

The class is only available for $99 for a limited time, though — it'll be available for its full price of $199 come 10/25 at midnight.

 

But because you're a VIP, First name / friend, that means you get first dibs, and a lil treat in the form of $100 off. 😏

 

 

 

 

Yes, there will be a recording sent to you after the class.

 

No, the recording never expires; it's yours to keep.

 

No, the content in this class does not exist in any of my other educational resources or courses. It's all happening in THIS masterclass ONLY — save your spot now for the sales page tea.

 

xo,

—S

 

P.S. When I warned the boy not to look at my About page unless he was ready to fall in love, he looked me dead in the eye and said “oh, I think I am.”

 

…DAYUM.