The Real Deal
I’m From Vegas. I Know a Shill When I See One.
Growing up in casino culture, you learn fast what’s real and what’s staged.
A shill was a hired hand who sat at the gaming table, looking like a player. Made the game look alive so real money would walk over and sit down. The house paid them. You weren’t supposed to know.
That job didn’t disappear. It got a ring light and a follower count.
What Vegas used to call a shill, social media calls an influencer. Same transaction. Different costume. Someone gets paid. Someone performs enthusiasm. The audience fills the table.
You know the feeling. You’ve been the table before.
Here’s what gives a shill away every time. They don’t come back the next day and tell you it didn’t work. They don’t sit with you in the hard part. They have nothing at stake when you walk away unchanged.
What’s real costs something to say. It’s slower. It doesn’t need a discount code or a countdown timer.
I didn’t build The COVE to move product. I built it because the other rooms weren’t safe enough, deep enough, or honest enough for women over 40 who are done being managed and ready to be witnessed.
No ring light. No hired hands. No performance of enthusiasm for pay.
Just women who have lived something and are ready to say so out loud.
I know the difference between a shill and the real thing.
So do you.
That’s what real information feels like. It lands somewhere. It changes the shape of something you thought you understood.
No countdown timer. No affiliate link. Just a man who studies cancer cells for a living, who decided the most important thing he could do with that knowledge was hand it to people in plain language and let them do something with it. The newest podcast drops Sunday. Watch it HERE.
