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The Woodbridge Illogic: Or, How Not to Run an Autograph Signing

I’m an attorney. I like order. I run events for a living—That 401(k) Conference isn’t exactly Burning Man, but it requires logistics, organization, respect for sponsors, and a clear understanding that chaos is bad for business. If your attendees are annoyed, if your sponsors are aggravated, you’ve got yourself a problem that no amount of swag bags can fix.

So imagine my frustration when I attended two autograph signings—Joe Torre and, later, El Duque—at Woodbridge Brewing in Woodbridge, New Jersey. Let’s just say their system was… how do I put this delicately? Illogical. Irrational. Borderline Kafkaesque. The kind of setup that makes you stand there, arms raised like Larry David, asking, “Does any of this make sense to anyone?!”

Autograph Signings Have One Rule: Order Matters

Autograph signings are simple. They run on two universal laws:

1. When you bought your ticket, or

2. When you show up

That’s it. That’s the whole game. You respect the people who show up early, spend money, and help your event succeed. You don’t reward people who wander in at the last second like they tripped over the event on the way to the restroom.

But Woodbridge Brewing? They decided to reinvent the wheel, break it, tape it back together, light it on fire, and roll it down the street.

Woodbridge’s Logic (or Lack Thereof)

I show up at 12:30 p.m. for a 2:00 p.m. Joe Torre signing, because I assume—like a normal human being—that the point of hosting an autograph signing is to fill your restaurant with paying customers. To incentivize people to eat and drink.

Which I did! I sat down, ordered lunch, had a Guinness or two, spent $140 on a meal that was, let’s say, aggressively mediocre—but the Guinness was solid, I’ll give them that.

I’m following the logic: show up early, spend money, get rewarded with a good ticket number. That’s how every signing on Earth works.

Instead, I’m told:

“Tickets will be distributed at 1:30 p.m..”

Fine. Great. Very orderly. I can work with that.

Except—of course—they start handing out tickets at 1:15 p.m. Fifteen minutes early. Fifteen. So now the timing is meaningless. Order is meaningless. Logic is meaningless. Life is meaningless.

And after spending $140 supporting the very establishment hosting the event… I get #57 out of 200.

Meanwhile, some schmuck who rolled in late, spent nothing, ordered no food, drank no Guinness, contributed absolutely nothing to the purpose of the event—somehow gets a lower number than me because he just happened to show up while the employees were prematurely chucking tickets around like Mardi Gras beads.

Imagine my face. Picture Larry David pointing, squinting, pacing in small circles, muttering:

“So wait, wait—I spend money, he doesn’t, and he gets rewarded? How does that work?! How? Explain it to me like I’m five!”

If the Goal Is to Fill the Restaurant… Reward the People Who Fill the Restaurant

Let’s be honest: Woodbridge Brewing doesn’t host autograph signings out of humanitarian generosity. They do it because bodies in seats = money spent on food and drinks.

So why—why—would you punish the very people who show up early to support your establishment?

It’s like they looked at the business model and said:

“Hey! You know all those paying customers? Let’s make them angry. That’ll keep them coming back.”

You couldn’t script it better.

The Rosenbaum Rule of Events

Whether it’s a 401(k) conference, a baseball autograph signing, or your kid’s school talent show:

If you want order, reward the people who respect the order. If you want chaos, reward the lucky and the lazy.

Woodbridge chose chaos.

And the next time I go to an autograph signing there, maybe I’ll show up right before ticket distribution after eating a better meal at Tommy’s Tavern in Edison, NJ, because clearly that’s what gets rewarded.

Or maybe I’ll just stick to running my own events—because at least I know when tickets are actually being handed out.

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