When I was a girl there was an ad on TV that began “Have you ever been to a Harvester before?”. The response from mummy was always “Good God, no! Who do these people think we are? And who taught them grammar? And why are we watching ITV?” And so on.
I should have said something similar (minus the grammar and ITV bits) when Karoline (with a K) asked if I had ever been to Spalding. But before I could, I was despatched to the weird parallel universe that is Lincolnshire to present a branding concept to a fresh produce packer.
“Everyone in food PR has to go there once,” sympathised Miranda afterwards, “and everyone comes back slightly changed and suitably chastened.” Spunky Monkey Mung Bean Shoots will have to wait for more enlightened times.
As the forces of repression are planning to log our every tweet, that could be some while. K has been frantically deleting emails, fearing that the hate-filled missives she sends to clients when they sack us may become public knowledge once the thought police take over. “I don’t want people thinking we’re not nice to work with,” she mutters delusionally, stabbing at the keys with a bejewelled finger.
In fact, the Kurse of Karoline is already well known, and somewhat feared, in the world of fmcg. Strange things happen to our ex-clients. Ask Threshers and Woolworths. By Ouija board.
P&F soldiers on against the odds, or so we’re told as it comes round to annual pay-rise time. The smell of baked potatoes is being piped into the offices which, say the papers this week, makes people happy. We take this as an ominous sign for negotiations.
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