Aug 22, 2008

Ovaries sucked…

(Open letter from fictional client to Me)

Dear Creative Kid:

I received your letter earlier today and must tell you how surprised I was by the anger in your words. I must point out that I only bothered to read it because my security detail was caught off guard by the whole ovary-sucking thing. I couldn’t resist the curiosity. Besides, I had a few minutes to spare before by 10:00 a.m. tee-time… on a Wednesday!

So, you’re the one who does our ads? Interesting. I always wondered what creative people do when they’re not being creative. Apparently this FaceBook thing really is a force to be reckoned with. Of course, I wouldn’t know. I’m too busy overseeing my empire, which is why we’re always so late in getting those revisions back to you. I’m glad you have something to do while you wait.

As for what I do all day? Well, you know, the usual client stuff: I check my status, update my status, have a status meeting with my staff to review the status, share the status with my consultants, then send the status on to my marketing underlings, who eventually turn it into work for you. Other than that, you must understand how difficult it is to keep up with so many things at once: the latest DuPont Registry comes out soon, so I have to make room for a new Bentley; there’s a new golf course in Anguilla that I need to check out; my wife wants to check out a new place in Nice (that’s in the south of France, by the way); my ex-wife needs a new chandelier… it’s crazy. They say the first $10 million is always the most difficult, but this is nuts.

Creative Kid, I feel your pain, seriously. I too spend long nights, fighting off sleep trying to figure out how to get better gas mileage from my Cessna. I have to sit through endless lobster dinners, listening to hoards of consultants tell me how to run by business. I sometimes go weeks without smoking one of my prized Cuban cigars -– oh, excuse me while I light up a makeshift blunt with this $100 bill I just found under the keyboard –- from all the stress. We may not eat from the same spoon, but we suffer just the same.

If you find my changes stupid and tardy, it’s because I too have to deal with overpaid, overeducated marketing idiots. They need to understand who’s boss, and I’ll apply my “strategic thinking” and “organic development” whenever I well damn please. You think you feel pressure? Just thank God you don’t have to worry about NASDAQ falling two points. That’s pressure. Not getting enough sleep? Try sleeping on puny 30-thread count sheets. Murder!

Sit on your ass if you must. Don’t answer your phone (who still uses phones, anyway? Hello! Blackberry!). Be a hippie. Pardon my arrogance, but it comes from years of always being on top and taking charge, from having hundreds of people suck up to me. You have other clients? I am more important than them, trust me. Your ovaries? They make a great side for the chateaubriand and Chianti I have to force myself to eat at this time of night.

This is business baby!

Yours truly,
Client #1

3 comments:

Warren said...

Cessna? Piker. The only way to travel is by trireme, with 120 unpaid swarthy barely-clad oarsmen pulling in the staves.

If one must journey by air, of course, the only suitable mode is zeppelin.

Me said...

The scary thing about this post is that, in theory, I could receive this letter at one point in my life.

Somebody take me out of my misery.

copywhore said...

And yet I've never had a client literate enough to write such a response...

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