I just got back from spending the past three days living as a VIP in Boston with the rest of the Red Bull Student Brand Managers. Red Bull SBMs are the on-campus ambassadors for the Red Bull brand, so we're responsible for handing out free product, setting up Red Bull sponsored events, and a whole bunch of other stuff to promote the brand at our schools. The past three days every SBM from Virginia to Maine was flown in and put up in a hotel in Boston for the Red Bull East SBM Kickoff Meeting. The meeting was basically a good time to learn more about the job and its responsibilities, meet some other SBMs, and have a good fuckin' time. The trip was absolutely ridiculous, and I've got more stories from three days in Boston than in practically my entire summer.
I arrived in Boston on Wednesday to check in at the Omni Parker House with the rest of the SBMs. Red Bull had a big station set up in the lobby and I checked in with the [gorgeous] ladies from the Mobile Energy Team (the girls who drive the Red Bull Mini Coopers and hand out free drinks), got my free Re
d Bull Dakine backpack and other materials, and checked into my room. It's important to mention at this point that the Omni Parker House is a four- or five-star joint, and some Red Bull guy found out online that our rooms went for about 600 big ones a night, which isn't too shabby.
After checking my luggage in the lobby I went out with about 10 to 15 other Red Bull people for lunch at the Beantown Pub down the street, had a quick lunch on someone else's dollar, and headed back to the hotel. At the hotel our meeting was about to start, so we went into some big function room that had been set up with lots of video footage from Red Bull events and free drinks galore. At the meeting we did some quick quiz game to learn more about the brand and had a presentation from one of the guys handling Red Bull's US ad campaign. The meeting was done in about two hours, and we all spilled out to the buses for our afternoon activity.
Though we had an itinerary for the whole trip, Red Bull definitely liked to keep us up in the air about most things, so as we drove through Boston in our coach buses, the MIT SBM and I tried to figure out where we could be heading. After only a short drive we turned onto the wharf district, which is essentially a big dead end, as our buses weren't equipped to drive across the Atlantic. We had no clue where we were heading for a little while, but then we all could see the big Red Bull inflatable arch set up in one of the parking lots. As we pulled in there was the arch, a few tents and trucks, and a full race course marked out with hay bales for our activity: mini-bike racing. Everyone got off the bus super excited and streamed over to the tents to sign the necessary waivers before being split into teams and sampling some more free food and drink in advance of the races.
There were several heats of the race, and the whole event was set up as a team relay, where one person would complete as many laps as possible in three minutes, a horn would sound, everyone would drive to the pit and strip off the helmet, jacket, and other gear as fast as possible, and tag off to their partner for another three minutes of racing. We were racing on 50 cc motorbikes, which measure approximately four feet long by two feet tall -- pretty tiny. Anyways, the races went off and everyone watched from chairs and big bean bags while sipping on some delicious free drinks as their peers raced and often crashed on their way around the course.
My turn to drive came up soon enough, and through my practice round I was definitely getting the hang of it, dropping knees into my turns and gunning it like a pro down the straights. When the actual race started I set out at a good clip, got back into it and was doing fine. At some point in my second lap, however, I was coming into this S-curve pretty fast a leaning hard. I flipped the bike back over to the other side as I went into another turn and evidently did it a little too fast, and the bike started to wobble a bit. Not thinking, I put a foot down quickly to steady myself, which would be fine on a normal sized bike, but meant certain death on a mini. Putting my foot down forced me into a standing position as the bike rode out from under me, and I held onto the handle bars for dear life, which was no good at all as that only made the throttle run out faster. We had been warned earlier not to hold on in a crash, but when things happen that fast, fuck that, who's got the time to think? So there I am, running as the bike shoots away from me, and eventually I give in, let go, and Superman out onto the pavement. The bike goes flying, I go flying, and at some point apparently the back wheel comes down onto my head, cracking the visor. The crowd goes wild, I pop back up miraculously unscathed, and take a bow before starting in again after the requisite equipment inspection. Unfortunately after some down time my team slipped out of contention and was done after one heat, but I got credit for the gnarliest wipeout of the day and managed to avoid regretting signing the waiver.
After the races finished we all piled back onto the buses and drove over the Felt, an upscale billiards club that none of us would have ever gotten into without Red Bull. We had rented out the entire third floor and had a really nice buffet set up for us along with an open bar. The club IDed us at the door, but once we were inside nothing really mattered and I easily picked up some drinks at the bar and from the passing waitresses. We stayed for a few hours playing pool and drinking ridiculously expensive alcohol -- the bar tab for just one of the waitresses was $2000, so they easily dropped ten grand on alcohol in a two hour period -- before heading out again to a new locale.
Our final stop for the night was an afterparty at Lab, as Boston skate boutique run by one of Red Bull's Boston culture contacts. We rolled into the store (which was sick) to find pumping music, more alcohol, and free custom T-shirts for all of us. We hung out for a few hours downing some more beverages of an alcoholic nature and perusing the merchandise; it was a good time, but ultimately a store doesn't make for a great location for a party of more than an hour or two.
Just after midnight the buses left and I went back to the hotel while those who were overage went out to make friends with the night on the streets of Boston. One dude was woken up at five-in-the-morning by Boston Police after passing out on a park bench, so evidently a good time was had by all.
I awoke the next morning after a restful sleep in a bed with at least seventy-three pillows, had a leisurely breakfast, and reported to the day's meetings. At the meeting we did some actual work things like brainstorming sweet Red Bull events and learning more about the job, but it was all still a good time. We had lunch at 1:00, followed by a street soccer exhibition -- which was pretty cool but not as impressive as a soccer aficionado like myself would have expected from Red Bull professionals -- and then continued our meeting for another few hours.
At four our work was done, and it was again time for out daily activity. On the agenda was the Red Bull egg drop, which seemed pretty lame when compared with the mini-biking escapades of the previous day, but we all took it in stride. On the bus I again tried to figure out where we were going, and pointed out Fenway Park to my seat-mate as we passed by. Then we stopped in front of it. We walked in to find out that our egg drop would be done from the Monster Seats level and that Red Bull had rented out the entire park for our use. We took some time building various unlikely contraptions, made a great show of launching our eggs off the upper deck, and settled in for a catered meal replete with another open bar as we watched the sun set over Boston. More socializing and imbibing thusly completed, we moved on to another afterparty, this one at Rise, a small after hours club in Boston.
Rise may have been even more exclusive than Felt from the night before, as the door was almost completely unmarked, the club was small, and it sported a $200 monthly membership fee. Steep. Anyhow, more drinking was accomplished and break dancing circles erupted everywhere as the crowd coped with nonstop house and breakbeat pounding. The night was another fun-filled adventure, and the whole crew was there: SBMs, Red Bull corporate guys, the ever-lovely METs, and the soccer dudes. It was a good night, and as 1:00 AM rolled around, it was back onto the bus and off to the hotel.
People again went out for more, and it was again an eventful night. Over a brunch of eggs, sausage, and plenty of grease the next morning, the crew reported in on their adventures. My regional colleague at UVM was out till 6:00 AM, and he certainly looked it as he came into the dining room. The story of the night, however, was definitely about Dave, another SBM I hadn't really gotten to know, but who had been the bartender-for-a-night at Rise the night before.
Earlier the second day I had walked out of the elevator and across the lobby when I saw a guy who looked strangely familiar. Looking again, I discovered that it was Danny from the Real World Austin, who hails from next-door Billerica and is most-noted for getting the shit kicked
out of him in a bar fight. He had his Real World girlfriend in tow, and they got back onto the elevator and I forgot about them, as should be the case with all reality TV stars. Anyways, back to SBM Dave. Apparently this unfortunate gent was wandering the halls of the Omni Parker House in the wee hours of the morning, migrating from one Red Bull room to another. I don't know whether the door was ajar or what, but apparently our friend Dave wandered into Danny Real World's room on a mistake and Danny wasn't pleased. It's unclear whether words were said, but all that we do know is that Danny followed Dave into the elevator and commenced beating the holy shite out of him. Bloodied, Dave went back to his room and documented his injuries on his roommate's camera before hopping back on the elevator with a good mind to pay another visit to Danny Real World. At some point someone must have intervened, because Dave was kicked out of the hotel and transferred to another place down the street, and may now be losing his SBM job, the poor bloke. I hope something is happening to Danny Real World, but who knows. Bloodied, bruised, and jobless, at least Dave can boast that he got the shit kicked out of him by a reality TV star. Oh, the jealously.
Concluding thoughts now, for a business trip, the Red Bull Kickoff Meeting really was an awesome event. Aside from all the fun I had, the people I met were really cool and interesting for the most part, which was a pleasant surprise. There were certainly plenty of the requisite skaters and shredders, but characters were never in short supply. There was one guy who had been a professional magician since age 16 -- and demonstrated his craft by making a quarter levitate from one hand to the next and made a fork droop in front of our eyes -- and who also possessed some nice break dancing moves and his own clothing company, to boot. Another SBM had spent the summer traveling the world with one friend and no plan and regaled us with his adventures from Japan, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Morocco, and nearly all of Europe. Most interesting however, was the story of how he ran out of money to buy a plane ticket home and sold himself on eBay to raise the necessary funds. His story got out, he raised the money, and became a local celebrity, as he was met by camera crews as he got off the plane back at Logan. He's now writing a book. Others held down sweet jobs for hotels and snowboarding companies, and all looked the part. At times I felt I didn't fit in as a varsity athlete, but I met some athletic Ivy-Leaguers who were in a similar situation, and other times I felt at home with the street soccer, drumming, and freestyle skiing. Red Bull definitely put together a good crew, and they were even better at pulling off a sick event for all their SBMs.
Over the three days one of the favorite pastimes of all the SBMs was trying to figure out how much money they were spending on the event, and figures ranged from $150,000 to half a million. I estimate that in three days they spent at least $2,500 on me alone, and they didn't even have to fly me in. Sick.
So, I figured I'd do Red Bull and shamelessly advertise: Drink Red Bull. It gives you wings. And other free stuff.
Some linkage:
Omni Parker HouseFelt BostonLab BostonRiseEvent Photos
