Before my lunch with the attractive, but likely confused Mindy, I have a very important client meeting with the angry soft drink company who made my heart stop earlier. The campaign we did for them was a fiasco and ended up costing them a small fortune with nothing to show for it. The sales are down and the surveys they’ve conducted show their customers didn't like it. We screwed up and they're right to blame us. It wasn't a very inspired project for some reason and I should maybe have been more in control, but I can't really remember when I was in control last.
But there's no point in dwelling in the past, now I need to save our asses and make the fizzy fuzzy people believe they'll win in the long run. My first job, therefore, is to explain to their chief marketing officer, Brian Anderson, that we're not yet in the long term and it will take more campaigns and more work to get the brand and sales boost we promised. I have my work cut out for me, because you can't really explain patience to marketing people. It’s all in the numbers.
The meeting’s ugly, Brian’s ugly and Brian’s furious. His face is pink from all the screaming he's been doing and together with his curly, blond hair it makes him look a bit like a giant, angry baby who someone forgot to feed.
Brian’s been “kind” enough to bring his laptop and we're looking at before-and-after figures, once approved TV commercials and the tagline they've now realized aren't aligned with their brand platform. He goes on to shout in my face that they're thinking of suing us. But you can't really sue someone for doing a bad job can you? Well, this is America so who knows?
My head’s spinning and I need oxygen. Brian isn’t giving me any, although I'm doing my best to sound understanding, when what I really want to do is punch him in the face. But I can't, because it’s not what professionals do and although my track record of professionalism hasn’t been great lately, I desperately need to be on my best behavior here. So I tell him, in a nice way, that I find it odd he thinks there are a lot of problems with our ideas, ideas he and the rest of the soft drink people first thought fantastic.
This results in more shouting in my face and I'm sure Brian's face is bound to pop like a ripe zit. But it doesn't and when he’s calmed down we agree that according to contract and our sales message, we'll do the next campaign for free, as compensation for the bad results. I agree to this because I really need Brian and his company. Losing the account could be the final nail in our coffin.
When Brian’s followed out by Angela he throws a typical asshole remark, just before saying goodbye. He says, “make sure you get it right this time,” and then turns around to give me his fake, fat-faced smile. He knows he won this battle and he’s smug about it too. I briefly picture myself running after him and kicking him in his chubby ass, but it's just a fantasy. Brian is today's winner and I just need to make sure I don't need to see his red face in my office ever again. It's sad in a way that an idiot like Brian can be in charge of something so important in such a big and successful company, but that's how it goes in this business, or in any business - you don't exactly need to be the great Lord Nelson to be steering the ship.
When our tense and disturbing meeting is over, I'm exhausted and broken. My hands are shaking and my face is burning. Not a great preamble to my lunch date.