"I'm Frank Bone," I said to the man in the chair, "gimme the scoop."
"I'm busy," he replied without looking up, "come back later."
I went down to the MD's office, past the new departmental staff plan pasted on the wall.
I may have to deal. I may have to sell this as new journalism to my editor and as great PR to the CD. Either way, it was a big story. It was my story. I aimed to get it.
The MD wasn't in.
The look on some faces around made me wonder if, in fact, I'd manage to swing the 'good PR' angle.
I poked my head into the next office down, nosing around. Some guy was packing his stuff into a cardboard box.
"You looking for someone?"
"Just nosing around," I said.
It was a small box, not much value in advertising, I guess. But maybe that was just this guy. Soon there'd be lots of other guys packing their stuff into boxes, bigger boxes, maybe.
So why?
Well, it's like this...
Had there been a title on the guy's door, it would've read 'Executive Creative Director'. But that's only because 'Executive Creative Director' has a better feel than, say, 'Chainsaw Consultant'.
A chainsaw consultant's function is to cull up to 50%. Maybe more, I don't know. I just know that Molly Johnson, in cream stockings and corded skirt, came barging through my door, waved a press release above her head and shouted: "Someone's doing the number on another big agency!" She was ecstatic about it. Molly's new in the press office. Full of enthusiasm. She used to be a copywriter in a big agency. Damn good one, too.
Me, well, I didn't exactly spill my coffee. It's just advertising.
So here I was, two days later, in this other copywriter's office.
"Senior copywriter," he says.
Oops, sorry, 'senior copywriter'.
But he's laughing. Turns out the joke's on me. His tongue's firmly in his cheek... and... and... he's doing that jerking motion with his hand as if he's-
You get the picture.
According to him, there's too many titles in advertising. Actually there's too much of everything. But today it's the titles.
A middle authority came in.
"So", she said, "I hear you've been saying bad things about me."
"Yes," said this copywriter guy, "You deserved it. Now leave me alone."
He winked at me.
I learned later that he just didn't like Group Heads in principle, he didn't mind the actual girl.
He started walking his fingers through his box, looking for something. She huffed and went away. I followed. The guy looked like he didn't want to be disturbed after that.
I got as far as the dreamboat in reception. I can't remember what I said. I just gazed at her. I guess if I'd stuck around a little longer I'd have gotten to know her better. That would be nice. But I had a story to chase so I headed back to the chainsaw consultant. His door was closed.
There was an argument going on inside.
"No, I won't do it."
"Why?"
"Because you can't make me. In my view, while that plan is on the wall, titles are frozen."
It seemed as if the copywriter wasn't the only one who wanted to dispense with titles.
After she came out, I cornered her on this issue and she explained:
The writing was on the wall as far as she was concerned. The chainsaw consultant had already made his choices. As long as that plan was up, while positions were being applied for, they were suspended. In limbo. There were no old positions. Only potential new ones.
"It's a great time to be in the agency," she said.
The plan catered for fewer positions. Less 50% in some cases. Positions were open to the outside too.
People were nervous. Not her. She was great. On her way. Decision made.
That's when I realised the beauty of this chainsaw action. He was pruning the tree.
Looking at her go I couldn't help wondering if he was keeping the right core.
I walked through the door.
"Why did you keep me waiting?" I asked.
He disarmed me easily. I learned that pruning was only a portion of his mandate. He also had to turn the agency into a big-hitting shop. Expectations were high. The pressure was on. I liked him immediately. His neck was on the line too. And the word from the copywriter was, he knew what he was doing. He was fast.
I'd figured on flattery to get the story, but there was no need. It didn't go deeper than that. It was your average common-or-garden everyday chainsaw action.
Judging by all the expensive, useless, pieces-of-crap ads out there, it's a necessary thing. But then what do I know? I'm not in advertising; too much thinking for me.
I asked though. I asked if I could make it as a writer in advertising. He said it was 90% idea, 10% writing.
Other shops, maybe not. The ratios might be different. But in this particular one it was going to be 90% idea, 10% writing.
And, because of the pruning, long hours.
No, thank you very much. You can keep advertising. There's real life out there.
I mean really. Have you listened to some of these ads? Corporate ads especially. If you ask me, Corporate would be a lot better off if it took the carrot out its arse; stopped using puckered words like 'pride' and 'passion'.
The Corporate voice is ridiculous. And I use the singular because it's so much the same.
I always think of the voice artists, lying in bed with their partners. Their latest ad comes on and they, the partners, look at their voice artists and think, Who the f**k is that?
To those partners I want to say, if your voice artist actually talks like that, or actually lives those values in real life, then leave! Ok? Get out quietly and as quickly as you can. And take the kids with you.
I know, I know. I'm meant to be impartial, but some things just get to me.
I met the copywriter with the box in the car park as I was leaving.
"Sorry to go?"
"No," he said, "I'll miss playing Scrabulous though."
According to him, Scrabulous was the only thing worth doing on Facebook. It's gone now. Apparently it was pulled because of a legal wrangle with the patent holders.
"The new one's crap - it's called Scrabble Worldwide... Scrabulous is a much better title... and at least it looked like the real thing."
He was much more at ease now he was outside. I offered him a Camel.
"I suppose there's lots of CDs who are pretty happy about that, huh?" I said.
"About what?"
"About it being pulled."
He took a drag.
"Unless they liked playing it also. When I got caught playing it, I used to say I was working; that the idea was 'percolating'. Who can argue?"
That's true. In a place that's 90% idea and 10% writing, who can argue?
Inevitably, though, a good chainsaw consultant comes along, cranks up his machine, and starts cutting.
Bzzzzz Bzzzzz Bzzzzz.
This guy's attitude was, "Get over it - take what you have and go sell it. You're in advertising, after all."
