Tuesday, 13 April 2010

I'm back! Let's do lunch!


My batteries have been recharged, my management juices have been topped up, my executive discharge has been brought under control, my strategy gland is pulsating and I'm itching to dispense more golden nuggets of pure insight, wisdom and marketing brilliance.

(Actually, I am itching. You know, a lot. Really, A LOT. It starts around my dangle-bag, but by the time I've finally chased it down I can have one finger right up my clacker and another up to the second knuckle in my ear. I suspect it's the shower gel I bought in bulk from Gorgeous Georgious. You know him - runs a slaughterhouse. Makes pickles. Pimps a bit. Good bloke.)

Anyway, let's do this thing! And this thing is LUNCH.

Lunch. Doesn't the word just hum with promise and portent? Don't those first tentative discussions about it at 9.30am just make you tingle, dribble and get a gentle lob-on all at the same time?

Why is this so? What is it about lunch that is so exciting to the modern executive / envelope-busting change-maker?

Lunch = strategic freedom

To a modern paradigm-shifter like me, lunch is the chance to dream, to envision, to break the mould. Freed from the mundane chores of office life (like delegation and teaching the agency boys how to write a headline) I can join other rain-dancers and let the management juice spurt. It's thrilling.

Lunch = management power

Management is not easy. Marketing is not easy. Genius is not easy. So marketing management genius is harder than a Frenchman outside an all-girl 6th form college. This is why a hearty / massive lunch is essential to all executives. Without a good lunch, the afternoon would be spent dozing with our feet on out desks doing nothing, rather than dozing with our feet on our desks thinking.

Lunch = cemented relationships

Business is all about relationships. (And not just the ones you probably shouldn't have in the workplace but do because, well, you know, it's Christmas and we've all had a few and what's waiting for us when we get home, apart from an empty fridge and silence and everyone else is going back to the bosom of their family and why shouldn't we have a little bit of that seasonal joy, here on this defunct fax machine, yes, yes, I'm on the pill.)

Lunch is where the client/agency relationship is developed and then cemented. And, yes, it does take at least 6 hours for that kind of lunch to work. Ideally, it should last until closing time. Or until an account exec starts crying, whichever comes first.

Lunch = power

Lunch has become the currency of business potency. The more you lunch, the harder you punch. I know of senior executives at major corporations who do lunch over 60 times a fucking week. You read that right, my fellow marketing professional. Now, while I am a fucking titan of the marketing world, I still have some way to go before I attain those heights. I currently pull off about 12-15 lunches a week. But that already says to all you fucking peasants...I mean, to all you entry-level professionals that I am top dog. You have the standard 5 lunches because, essentially, there is only you who wants to have lunch with you. I'm in demand. My time is sought. And my time is bought - with balti mixed grills, garlic snails, pints of claret and piles of profiteroles you could cunting ski down.

That's lunch, my friends. The most important meal of the day - and vital to the success of any would be management-class...er...manager. (Interestingly, Rupert Abbott, that utter cuntfudge of a Marketing Director at our main rivals, the market leader, has only green tea, crudites (whatever the fuck they are) and an apple for lunch. I rest my case. Actually, I don't - doesn't that just prove that not lunching properly turns you into a fuckbucket and clackerpipe? Yes, it does.)

So go out and lunch your cocks / fannies off, my fellow marketing professionals! It'll take you right to the top. Which is where you'll find me!

Why? Because I AM THE CLIENT!


  1. Sad that no one has left a comment on such an excellent post.

    Never mind. I get lots of comments and my posts are invariably shit.

  2. Nobody posts on my blog, Ben. I've come to accept this. I thank you sincerely for raising the issue. But it's one of the many burdens my genius brings. What is left to be said after I've discharged my insight? That's right - nothing.

  3. So happy to have u back. True story.

    Big bear hug from Sweden