Scenario A: You’re trying to find an address on the sidewalk of a busy city street. The smell is raunchy, there are people everywhere, and you can’t seem to figure out which signs are advertising for leather bondage gear, and which ones are directing the way to your destination (the House of Non-leather Bondage Gear– you’re a vegan). Too shy to stop and ask directions, you keep trying to sort through the clutter yourself.

An observant man sees your face and guesses your plight. “If you’re looking for the House of Non-leather Bondage Gear, it’s two blocks north of here.” Overjoyed, you trot north to the land of studded vinyl pants and environmentally-friendly riding crops.

Scenario B: You’re walking along the sidewalk of your cozy neighborhood, thinking about bondage but not admitting it to your companion, Sister Maria Isabella (she’s an old friend from High School). A man passing in a car recognizes you from the bondage store– his bondage store– and decides to do a little marketing. He yanks out his megaphone just as Sister Maria gets to the part of her story where Jesus is rebuking a prostitute.

“Hey, you there! I saw you in the House of Non-leather Bondage! How are you liking your purchase?” The echoes ringing down the street drown out every word Sister Maria has to say. Your cheeks flush, and Maria pretends she didn’t hear it. (Of course, she thinks the man is talking to her. She was in the same store not two hours ago). You promise yourself you’ll never, ever go back to the House of Non-leather Bondage, no matter how great your new studded vinyl pants may look.

If you hadn’t noticed yet, this is all an analogy for the web. In scenario A you were using a search engine to find a product that fits your interests, and someone savvy just happened to notice and point you to something relevant. It might have been an AdSense banner or just a big, flashy banner ad– either way, you were grateful for the interruption because of its relevance to your exact reason for being there.

In scenario B, however, you were accosted at a really inappropriate time. Right in the middle of your conversation with an old friend (possibly on Facebook or Bebo), you weren’t out looking for a product. You just wanted a discussion. Instead of enhancing your time on the web, this advertisement sabotaged your whole reason for being there.

As it turns out, marketers need a better way to approach people on social networks — a way that isn’t anything like banner ads or megaphones. I can name a new one that won’t work.

In the summer of 2008, while the people of New York City were sweating and bustling about, as they do, we were off the sidewalks and on our computers. It was dumb. But we were working hard, learning a great deal in this internship doohickey, and paying the rent.

Then, one ridiculous day, we went to a conference. At this conference, which will remain unnamed, we met a lot of wacky marketers. They met to discuss the challenges of “brand interaction in social media” and “creating conversations with customers,” and other four-dollar phrases made of four-cent words. We sat, we listened, and we took passed notes.

We learned a lot from that conference, but nothing from what they said there. Instead, we took home a notebook full of exasperated retorts and personal resolutions. We also took home the new realization that we already knew the right way to market– we just didn’t realize, at least this vividly, how very unprepared everyone had been for marketing online (or anywhere).

Of course, not all marketers are wacky. We know a few great ones, brilliant and wise ones, and we follow them wholeheartedly. We also try to be unwacky ourselves, so wish us luck.