Part 1: A 19-year-old webmaster

The person developing the websites was called a webmaster back around Y2K (two fossils).

So, that was around 2002 when I sold my first website. The website, created in a vibrant eggplant colour that seemed cool at the time, was a clunky masterpiece of table-based design. It was really ugly, of course! A person who paid for that high-tech marvel wanted several pages online with some industrial item listings. Also, there was a form to fill in card details directly alongside a message containing the purchase details. The card processing was not implemented.

I received $130 in cash. We met somewhere deep down the Moscow metro and shook hands after I delivered the website on the CD-R (third fossil!)

I had hundreds of similar interactions in the years to come: static HTML was replaced with Mambo, Joomla and then, finally, WordPress CMS. My web development skills were soon combined with PPC (pay-per-click, essentially, Google Ads) and SEO (search engine optimisation) knowledge that I put to work to benefit all kinds of small business owners. I helped sell plastic windows, dog kennels, air conditioners, forge work, and various services.

No upfront money

Most, if not all, interactions were personal: we met with the business owner in a coffee shop and discussed his needs. Some months later, we had a website running. I remember not taking any upfront payment, as I thought that it was a sign of distrust on my side: as we sat in the coffee shop, I saw the drastic difference between the gentleman sitting opposite and me: usually, he was 'an established' middle-aged man wearing a leather jacket with a car parked just outside, and I was a 19-year-old student with a discounted metro monthly pass.

Most of the time, this approach worked well, but sometimes it didn't. Once, I built a website for an exceptionally 'successful' man: he sold plastic windows, the plague of any modern post-soviet city. When the project was delivered, he paid me a small amount, and we agreed that he would pay the rest in the form of commission when the SEO and PPC were up and running, and he would start to bill customers.

We were partners! So I tried my best to deliver as many clicks to his website as possible, and about a month later, I heard him for the last time: he was happy, and we scheduled to meet in a few weeks. He promised to pay a hefty commission, an amount beyond my comprehension.

Of course, he disappeared. Sometime later, I received a call from Moscow police: they were inquiring about my 'partner' and said that he had never installed a single window but had taken the money upfront and ran. The story ended much better for me than it could have been: the police inspector on the line understood that I was one of the fools he took for a ride, not a mastermind of the operation.

My business machine

Every week or so, I received a new call from someone who needed a website. That was a self-perpetuating process: my previous clients recommended me to their friends. It appeared that it was as much a blessing as a curse: most of my clients were very much alike, some individuals with a small business looking to build websites cheap and fast.

I have never been able to navigate out of that crowd, and even though it has given me some bread and butter through the next decade, I could not establish any real business out of that.

As I see it now, I should've been much less shy with my rates and conditions, but I am who I am, and at least it was a fun time!

Moscow in 2000's

To put you into the context, the early two-thousands in Moscow were great years. The economy was booming; Western investors were eager to participate in the miracle yet to happen and streamed into the country. Every day some new international company's branch opened up its doors.

Shabby Soviet-made Ladas gave way to a myriad of cars from abroad. The streets became brighter with the neon of the coffee shops and restaurants popping up here and there.

I felt some pride in witnessing the transformation of the Soviet Capital to a world-class metropolitan city on par with London and New York (that was what we felt. Just a handful of people I knew back then had been there).

Petty 'businessman'

No, this is not me at the time. That is a generalised character of my story, my client!

First of all, it was 'he'. I had some female clients as well, but those few were outliers. Next came a few distinct features: this man dealt with cash and was always looking for some venture. As I wrote it, it started to sound like me, so be it!

I guess the only distinction between me and the hero of this anecdote is my lack of greed. This is something I am not able to adopt to this day.

Most of this man's deals fell into the grey area, not explicitly illegal but skirting the boundaries of the law. Some taxes were not paid, and some people were hired under the table. Servicing them meant for me to become one of them, a prospect I loathed. Restlessness consumed me, and I yearned to escape this mire.

Much later, I understood that we all were bound to follow customs more than the law, as it being constructed for large businesses had many holes and gaps for us, the smallest fish in the pond. We were left to mingle between ourselves and fight for the remnants of the feast of the bigger animals.

Here's one story from that period that I think is valuable as a picture of how things were done at the time: Honeyman