As a copywriter at an advertising agency, I do as much as I can to distinguish myself from other salesmen. In fact, I usually tell people that I’m a “writer at an advertising agency,” hoping they just hear the “writer” part and ignore the rest. “Writer” sounds nobler than “huckster.”
What I really am is a salesman. The first step to recovery, right?
But how can I be a salesman? I own neither wingtips nor hair wax. I don’t have a loud voice. You’ve heard the phrase “he never met a stranger?” Well, I have. A whole bunch of ‘em. And when I’m on a plane, I always end up behind the loud, obnoxious salesman sitting in coach who wants to pretend he’s in first class by ordering mixed drinks and reclining his seat all the way back. See? I’m the victim of salesmen, not a member.
(By the way, those five degrees of decline on airline seats are way less comfortable to you than they are uncomfortable to the person behind you. It’s a bad ratio. Please return yourselves to the upright and locked position.)
A dramatic interpretation. And a nice jacket.
So I may not look or sound like a salesman, but I do try to convince people to buy things.
Things they may not really need. Things they may not really even want. And I’m doing it through an avenue that the average consumer feels they could completely do without.
Advertising is never not an interruption, you see. Sometimes it can be entertaining. You might even care about what it has to say, but you’re never there for its sake.
“We now interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to inform you that aliens are stealing your thoughts. Wrap yourselves in foil immediately.”
This is an example of a good interruption. If this were really going down, you’d want to know. Probably even more than you’d want to know who won “Best Amateur Singer in America.” But it’s still an interruption. Plus, nine times out of 10, advertising is way less important than an alien invasion. And less interesting.
So as a professional Interrupter, how can I show my face in public? Well, I can keep telling people I’m a writer and leaving it at that. And when people find out I’m in advertising, I can patiently listen to the various ways my profession is ruining their life.
“Yes, ma’am. A billboard? Right in front of your house? I am sorry to hear that. No, ma’am, that wasn’t me. No, that’s not fair at all. Yes, I would write a letter if I were you. Again, sorry to hear about that. I’ll pass that on to my boss, yes, ma’am.”
