...also, your MySpace SUCKS

Dear reporter (who I wish I could name but can't because I want to stay employed),

I used to think you were cool. Seriously- not a lot of people get the 'cool' label in my book because in my line of work, not a lot of them seem human.

Yeah, I thought you were cool.

That is until you stood me and my client up for a briefing.

I asked you what time you would be available for this briefing. I ASKED YOU and then, even when I realized that I would have to get my ass up out of bed at 5:30am to be in the office by 6:30am to gear up for the call at 7am, I was fine with it.

My client, who lives and works on the other side of the planet, put this call on her schedule. I told you that it was nearly midnight her time so you knew. You knew what a pain in the ass it was going to be for the both of us to make this call.

So when you tell me, after the call time, after my client and I hang around and wait for you to dial in to the conference line I cleared for use, that you were "running late to the office" and missed the call- don't expect me to be all sunshine and giggles, okay?

First of all, who the hell strolls into the office at 10:00 am? That's not just running late, buddy. That's "Oh my God, I'm going to have diarhhea, I'm so effing late to work that it's not even funny, not even The Office would make an effing parody of this" late.

Also, I scheduled this briefing on Monday. Today is Wednesday. I don't know if you can do math, but that means you had two days to casually look at your calendar and realize that you had a call at 10am.

Maybe you were having a bad night last night and simply hit the snooze button one too many times this morning. Maybe you accidentally poked your eye out with a spork and had to run to the emergency room with the spork still embedded in the now empty socket that used to be occupied by your eyeball?

I don't care. You still suck.

This post would be much more eloquent and witty if I wasn't so goddamn TIRED AND SLEEPY.

Sincerely,
I want my frikin product back, you inconsiderate jerk.

P.S. Oh yeah, I saw your MySpace page. It sucks.

More stupid statements- from New York!

Another lovely PR executive in NYC had these gems to offer. Some people say the darndest (read: stupidest) things.

Two cases of "WTF did you just say?" :

Client: Ok, so what are the next steps here?
Supervisor: Well, we will do a 180 and loop back with you to aggregate the seperate compontents into their own categories.

----

Expert: Looks fine. I made one change in the release on page 2, see the attachment. We shouldn’t tell people that the toilet is one of the safest places in the home; this is overstating what the data says. We really would not want people spending more time then they need to there.
Supervisor: That's a good change. Thanks.

-Signing off from Seattle/New York (we are now bi-coastal)

Don't Believe What Your Mother Told You...

Because there are such things as stupid questions.

For example.

Me: "Hi, I'm done with the award. If you want to look it over it's saved in the drive."

Supervisor: "Ok. Which folder is it saved in?"

Pause.

Me: "The awards folder."


*****
Back-to-back stupid questions.

Me: "If you could pull together a media list of people that focus on virtualization that would be great."

Newly promoted AAE: "Yeah, do you think we can get an intern to do that?"

Me: "Actually, it would be much faster if you could do that since you're familiar with the technology."

Newly promoted AAE: "So...um, yeah. Well, how would you suggest I go about doing that?"


*****
Stand alone stupid question.

AAE: "How do I log-on to Business Wire to queue that?"


*****
Completely and totally innocent stupid question.

Me: "We have such a breadth of technology clients here at *bleep.* So one of the challenges is being able to understand each client's technology in order to effectively pitch them."

Intern: "Oh, ok. So what, exactly, does *bleep* do?"

Blink. Blink, blink.

Me: "Uh, well, *bleep* is a PR agency....public relations..."


*****
Non-work related stupid question.

Receptionist: "We have an appointment for eleven o'clock open."

Me: "Great, eleven would be perfect."

Receptionist: "Ok, you're confirmed for eleven on the 17th. Would you mind coming in 30 minutes early?"

-Signing off from San Francisco