Friday, 22 June 2012
There's no booze like agency booze
Ever had a drink in a bar (or a pub, or a club, or a speakeasy, or a vodka shed, or a dirty juicer, or a sticky-floored gin palace, or the kitchen of a ketamine salesman, or a supermarket carpark, or the boot of your car, or a restaurant, or a restaurant toilet, or a restaurant dustbin) and that drink tasted strangely good?
Not 'good', like, 'I poled her good over the trouser press'. No, I mean 'good' as in 'giving money to de-homed cripple-men is a good thing.'
I think you know what I mean.
Well, if that drink felt good, the chances are it was paid for by an advertising agency.
Something happens to booze when it's purchased with the quivering, immaculate gold card of an advertising agency account director.
It tastes cleaner, stronger, fresher, rounder, gooder.
Why is this? What is this strange alchemy created by a man called Ben or Scout or Dan or Klaus or Oliver and a piece of plastic with a large credit limit?
I don't care. I just want more of it.
And so should you. Make agency booze a central goal in your life, my fellow marketing professionals.
Because that lovely booze, full of its added gooderness, is a symbol of your agency's respect. Even more important, it's a symbol of their fear. It's like protection money demanded by the mafia. As long as they pay it, nothing bad will happen. Probably.
So what kind of client are you? Are you a champagne client? Or just a piece-of-dick cider client? Are you Courvoisier or cans of Breaker? It's important you find out. It's easy to do. You just call your agency, like I do every Friday morning, and say, 'You're buying me a drink at lunchtime. And then all afternoon. And then all evening.'
Then I let them order.
Once, someone from my agency (to whom I paid a large amount of money every month) brought me a fucking bottle of fucking Orangina. That agency was fired before he could shake the bottle and wake the cunting drink. (It really isn't relevant that a) it was 10am (which is the official start of lunch time in my book) and b) I'd spent the last three years recovering 95% of my agency fees by spotting 'mistakes' in every piece of work they produced for me.)
On the other hand, my current agency confers upon me the proper respect. To them, I am a claret 'n' WKD client. And that, my very dear friends, is the very highestmost client you can fucking be. So stick that up your fucking poop-pipe and fucking smoke it.
Yes, agency booze is a measure that tells me whether I'm still the fucking man. Clearly, I am.
Why? Because I'VE GOT A BUCKET OF CLARET 'N' WKD!