SCABs

A day at Gigi’s fantasy agency – By @GCopywrite

A day at Gigi’s fantasy agency 

Dear Readers, 

We find ourselves conversing once again. I’ve been ploughing into alot of book crits lately and have finally begun to understand what I might want from an agency in terms of working there. Here is my dream situation below. 

I waltz in at 9ish am. I have been wearing my agency lanyard over my coat on the tube because I want people to know I work there. It’s a badge of pride. Proof that I survived the likes of Marc Lewis and THRIVED. The agency allows dogs so I have my young and well bred (no super squishy noses) English bulldog Puds/Augustus. On the nicer days we walk as the agency is only an hour ish away from where I live. 

Puds and I stroll in past the agency motto in LED neon lighting, it’s sassy and I look at it and just think “Yaaaassss”. Puds runs around greeting everyone while I ransack the agency kitchen draws for a little breakfast treat. 

I settle down at my desk near the window and begin. 

1pm. Time for a quick lunch grabbed from a local street market before a big presentation of my work to the ECD. I choose rotisserie chicken and halloumi with a greek salad on the side. It’s £7.50 but I’m not fussed, I can afford it at this point. Puds has a nice little wee and London feels optimistic and teeming with life. 

The ECD thinks my ideas are good but nothing groundbreaking. And here at this agency, we only do groundbreaking. So he says if I’ve “gone for mediocre, I’ve done great” and laughs. I don’t mind, I like to know when my stuff is bad. So I return to my desk and get going once more. 

It hits 5pm and that means drink o clock. I ponder over to the agency bar with plush velvet stools and think= prosecco or gin? I like the coupe glasses so have a rose prosecco and handful of crisps and head back to my desk. It goes straight to my head and I’m feeling good. 

At 5:30 I see the ECD putting on his coat to head off, I grab him and say I’ve got an idea and it’s WILD. In fact it’s maybe too wild for the client to handle. But alas, he loves it. He makes a comment about how mad I am but that it’s the kind of mad that’s verging on genius. It needs to be refined but this could be something really exciting. 

6pm. I tie up a few loose ends and send some emails. I admittedly have had another glass of prosecco but it’s a Tuesday so we’ll stop there. Time to trot home with Puds. We’ve got a pitch coming up next week and I’m going to be in the room selling my work to the client. I’ve had a brainwave. The only question is now how to convince the account manager that this is a stunt worth pulling off. Life is good.

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