Aug 17, 2008

While you were waiting...


A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure of going to the doctor (sarcasm alert). Fifty fucking million women are already waiting in line to get their urethra rammed up by a guy who doesn't love them nor has bought them alcohol to melt the ice. Wonderful! I tried the very cool tactic of telling the secretary: "look, I'll sign up in the waiting list and I'll go for a ride. In a couple of hours, I'll call you back to see where you are in the list. If it's near me, I'll come back."

Blank Stare. Woman turns away while saying: "If you go, you loose your place in the line." What a extremely-long-nails-and-ugly-hairdo bitch.

So, now forced to sit at a crowded as hell waiting area, watching soap operas (which is like Kryptonite to me), I suddenly start watching the other pissed off "jailed" woman as me. Some are fighting with their kids to stay quiet and don't run around so much (little fuckers I would have gladly punched in the ear). Some are discussing every side of their private life with, gasp, their mothers; and gasp again, they are actually listening to them analyze their problems and give opinions (kill me Jesus, yes kill me now).

Some are either reading the newspaper or an old crummy magazine (why do doctors don't throw away the mags when they look simply disgusting? Are they collectors of crap?). I focus on the newspaper chick. Why? Oh, you are going to love this one.

I decided to do a simple observation exercise. Watch that woman read the newspaper so you can see what ads she stops on and which she simply passes the pages. Ready???? Set??? Go...

I wanted to kill myself. First of all, I knew that the ad that I had slaved on for almost two weeks was on page 2. So right of the bat, the bitch passes page 2 without a second. Great. There goes my work down the drain. People, I swear to you, the woman passed each and every ad you could think of, at least the decent ones, in a matter of seconds. It was amazing to see that. She didn't stop at a thing. I started wondering how many people were like her, how many people that day had simply passed the page at what I had busted my ass working on. What I fought over with my client for hours and hours, she just ignored. How many dudes just don't have the need to even LOOK at this ad?

That fucked my mind up pretty badly and suddenly... she stopped. (Oh, yes, I am still looking, I stared at this woman like a psycho until she ended up at the sports section, where for me the newspaper is over) Where did she gladly put her eyes on??? ON THE MOST FUCKING UGLY AND CROWDED AD IN THE WHOLE NEWSPAPER.

You know the ones. The little ads that have almost all information they can cram up, usually with a ugly low res photo and fucked up logo. Yeah, those ads that we usually say, shit man, these people are ruining advertising??? Well, that was what she focused on. Why? WHYYYYYYY? Then my mind starts working on this dilemma: how many people focus on fucked up ads instead of decent ones? Why is that? Dependency on turd-like advertising? Do they like crap? Is organized and nice something people can ignore? How many people are like this woman? HOW MANY?

The thing that bugs me is this: we sometimes work too hard or defend our ideas too much, lose sleep, get angry, postpone cool moments because the ad must publish. I can count how many times I've said to my mother that I can't make it to lunch because I'm doing revisions on a Full Page ad that publishes the next day. FOR WHAT? Looking at that woman casually passing the pages of not only my ad, but my friend's ads as well made me think I needed to care a little bit less. Days after this my client wanted me to do a really silly revision on a copy which sounded awful. I didn't even flinch. It maybe was my nature to tell him that his brilliant copy attempt was a sheer example of when idiots express themselves... but I didn't say anything. The woman passing the page was an eye opener, a reality check.

This is your ad. This is your ad, being ignored. Deal with it.

That experience was the best I could ever have. Well, that and my sweet Ob-Gyn, who always whispers sweet little nothings in my ear as he... just kidding.

2 comments:

Me said...

Ah my friend, it if only was that simple. You see, there is a problem. They got you by the... balls?

The thing is this: once you show your snatch to one dude and let him look at you where even your most beloved boyfriend would NEVER look, you find it difficult to switch doctors. For us, it's like a second marriage and for some strange reason, we are only loyal to that dude. Why? Shame. Example... would you show your penis to one dude you don't know on January and show it to another on March? See?

This is a second bad marriage where the dude gets to do unholy things to you without uttering even: "I kind of like you", smiles and then goes off to screw another woman in the room next door.

Jesus. Now I'm disgusted and sad. I'm off to march to my ObGyn and beg him to tell me at least that he loves me. And I want flowers, dammit.

Joker said...

@ 1 letterman: Pied Piper of the Vagina..... sorry to enjoy that line so much while reading and also internalizing quite a few things from this week. But hey, I needed a laugh. so thanks

@ Me: Seems this week was slap my eyes open day for WASers.... As for some sugar with your exam... that would be pretty fucked up in itself.

btw: My word verification says chkfmsexy

chk fm sxy

Chick Fem Sexy ... um right... and some people still insist word verifiers have nothing to do with our lives.

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