I'm not sure why I work. It's certainly not for the professional accolades and rewarding feeling at the end of the day. I can confidently say that it's not for the hefty paycheck I wave in the air as I haughtily enter the bank every two weeks. (Ha!) And nope, it's definitely not because I do something that changes lives.
Aaaaahhh...I remember. I work because things like a $48 monogrammed apron from France is considered a must-have and my dog and cat require extra play time while at Pet Day Care. It's also for days like this, when all that talk of PR being fun and glam goes silent. Note: none of this is fabricated embellished or exaggerated. Promise.
Before we left for California I was up to my neck in work. Impromptu client meetings were not on the agenda. But when the big boss tells me that a potential client is looking for some public relations work for a multi-million dollar business venture - the billable hours make this PR hound grab her dossier, pen, purse and head for the corporate park in the pouring rain.
Mind you I went to this meeting with very little info except for he is a brilliant (read crazy), inventor / entrepreneur who already has several highly successful business ventures. I entered his unremarkable office space and waited in a dark vestibule until someone boomed, "I bet you're looking for me."
The next thing I know I'm seated at a massive conference room table with the madman inventor, his marketing director, head scientific researcher and chief chemist. (Glad I wore my glasses for this crowd.) On a screen is a document entitled "Lab Announces Poo Prints."
Ummm...is this a joke? Oh, no. Not even close.
I proceed to read a 5-page press release on a dna bank completely driven by the idea that Home
Owner Associations will force residents to have their dog's "business" registered. That way if any "business" is found in public space it can couriered off to a lab and matched to the offender.
Wow. Hate to break it to you but, the domestic and overseas markets are hemorrhaging. People are losing thousands of dollars from their pensions every minute. The housing market is in the tank. And we are engaged in a war. And you think people are going to take the time to pick up someone else's dog s$#@ and mail it to a lab so that they can impose a $25 fine and list the offender, Daisy the dachshund and her parents in the quarterly newsletter??!!
This team proceeds to tell me how big the business is going to be and I'll need to put together a public relations plan of attack in 24 hours.
Riiighhhhht. Here's the deal - I don't know if I need to put together a PR campaign to tell you that your little venture will be picked up as the most ridiculous news story of the day, provide another sign of the Apocalypse and give the world another reason to laugh at Americans.
It took exactly 27 minutes to leave the meeting, return to the office and call our madman to let him know that it wasn't a good fit for us. (23 of those minutes were drive time.)
It took 29 minutes for me to call Mr. News Readin' and give him the scoop (no pun intended) on the burgeoning business. This could be a big story for local news...
More at 11.
10 hours ago