Sampling and My Skin Problem

I get acne. I never thought I'd say that at this age -- but hey, if that's one of my bigger problems I guess I'm damn lucky.

As a kid, I tried everything. To earn a few extra bucks in college, I participated in a clinical study for a new medication I hope was never released (it didn't do shit). I actually recall being excited when benzoil peroxide hit the market.

Until recently, I was a Stridex man. But even the formulation for sensitive skin dried the hell out of my face.

One day recently I was in the mall with my little girl and we headed into Origins. The saleswoman looked at me and said, "Tell me about your skin."

Almost immediately after she heard my story she announced, "I have something I use that you're gonna love," and handed me a tube of Pure Cream. When I hesitated she added, "Take home a little and try it for a few days."

How could I turn down an offer like that? Sampling is a tactic we use at Mothers of Invention, but it's hardly original. Check out what Claude Hopkins wrote 85 years ago in Scientific Advertising:

"Two men came to me, each offering me a horse. Both made equal claims. They were good horses, kind and gentle. A child could drive them. One person said, 'Try the horse for a week. If my claims are not true, come back for your money.' The other person also said, 'Try the horse for a week.' But he added, 'Come and pay me then.' I naturally bought the second person's horse."

Back to Pure Cream. Turns out, the stuff is amazing. My acne's reached a new low. Marks I've had on my face for years are even starting to fade.

Origins has what's known as a customer for life. And it all began with a sample in a tiny plastic container that cost them next to nothing. At $17.50 a pop for a supply that should last around 10 weeks, they'll take in around $2,200 from me in today's dollars over the next 25 years.

I'll be seeing my brother's family in New York next week. Guess what I'm bringing my nephew.

Have any sampling stories of your own to share?