My teenager son, a go-kart driver, was going to race near Salt Lake City.  His father was planning on taking him, but due to a last minute emergency I was activated.  
A quick check on airline ticket prices, then on my checking account balance made me decide on driving.  It is about 12 or so hours of driving, but saving on rental car and at least the cost of one plane ticket made the decision easier. When I told to my ex that I plan to drive, he offered his much nicer and newer Mercedes station-wagon to take. I agreed, since my old Nissan Maxima, tho in good condition, can have issues on a long trip like this.  
It was a mid July heatwave even at the coast, where we live. We decided to leave early, to take advantage of the morning coolness. After a few hours of drive it started to get hot outside. I asked my son, who knew the car better than I, to turn on the air-condition.  He did, but the air was not cold.  He did it again… still no cold air. By that time we were driving between Sacramento and Reno, and since it was Sunday, we could not find anyone to check on the air-condition and it was too late to turn back.  We had no other choice just to tough it out.  We packed up on icy drinks, sunscreen and off we drove to the scorching desert with windows down.  The windshield and our hair was filled with bugs, but we made it to the hotel.
Next morning I dropped my son at the tracks, and called around to have the air-condition serviced.  The only Mercedes Benz service in the area didn't have available appointment until Friday, so I ended up with a local shop who was nice enough to fill up the air-condition right away, while I waited.  After spending few hours and 150$, the cool air was still missing.  They tried, they called around, they apologized, but couldn’t figure it out. The weather should be cooler next day they said.  

Windows down I drove back to the tracks, by that time my hair permanently looked messy.  At the tracks the boys got hungry, so as a devoted mom, I volunteered to pick up some food for them.  
The small town center was a short drive away.  The fuel gauge showed that I had about a quarter tank of gas, but by the time I was close to the city, it started to blink, and the next intersection the engine stalled. Oh my god!  I freaked out. I was able to start the engine, and driving very slow turned toward a shopping center and parked at the lot.  I saw a pick up truck driving behind me, who parked close to me.  
Since English is my second language, and I harbor a heavy accent, generally I don’t like to talk to strangers. It took all my courage, but went to the truck asking him about the closest gas station.  He was a younger man, with two cute boys.  He explained, that I could buy a gas can at the store near by, and walk to the closest gas station.  I thanked him, and headed toward the store. I was already at the door, when they caught up with me offering a ride to the gas-station, if I don’t mind waiting while he picked up some snacks for the boys.  I told him I am even happy to buy them the snacks, but not only he didn’t let me to pay for the snacks,  he decided to buy the gas can for himself.  He argued, that my “fancy” car will smell like gasoline if I keep the gas can there, meantime he needed one for his truck anyway.

Then we drove to the nearest gas station, that was a good mile away.  It would have been really difficult to walk the distance in the 100+ heat.  I filled up the gas can, that he just bought, and we drove back.  He figured out how to operate the gas can, so the gasoline can be transferred into the car.  Whoever designed it, made sure it is difficult to use.
Fingers crossed I started the car.  It worked.
I thanked them, and off they went.  

As I was driving away, I realized I forgot to ask his name.  I recalled our conversation, and remembered he mentioned, that his wife, who is a “carrot top” works at the kart tracks as a nurse on duty.  Also, he told me that they were not from the city, they lived “on a ranch” in the valley.  
I kept looking for the “carrot top” at the tracks, but could not find her.  The last day I got lucky. One of the ambulance driver knew the “carrot top’s” name, although was not sure of the spelling of it.  

Once back at home I started to search Google to find out their address.  I wanted to thank them somehow for helping me out.  For my surprise, using the clues I had from our conversation,and  the misspelled name, I was able to find them.
But now I had a dilemma what to send them.  I wanted to show how much it meant to me, that he helped me out, and a simple thank you card, tho nice, but didn’t feel enough.  Then I was thinking about sending them a gift card to the store where we shopped.  However, I was completely broke.  
Just before my Utah trip I had to pay for the shipping of my new venture.  I designed and manufactured in China a super soft sheet set from bamboo velour fabric.  
Summer went by when finally I got my shipment, and the idea came.  I should send a set of my beloved sheets to thank my savior. So far only my friends and relatives tested them, and they all loved it, but this way I will have my first objective product tester.

I composed a letter and hoping for the best, I shipped them a King Sized set of the Denes&Co’s soft velour sheets.  This is the exact letter I sent with it.

For my surprise few days later I got a text message.

Fourteen days later I asked about their opinion again, and I was happy to read the following text.

I was very happy to read it.  In order to market my sheets I needed advertising.  Unfortunately, I exhausted all my funds so I rely only on product reviews and social media.  A good product review and track record is essential.  I waited four months before I asked them again.  

So… here we are.  Curious?  Do you want to check it out also?

Visit our store at www.denes.co

Thank you, and you will not be sorry, I can guarantee it.