Tag Archive | advice

A Man Who Needs an Introduction

Note to my future self (although, if he’s anything like everyone else, he isn’t reading this shit either): When introducing yourself to potential clients at an agency while on a conference call, kindly refrain from going about it in this manner:

“You may recognize my name from such credits as ‘Before Model #3’ in the Stridex Long Night in the Cabin at Summer Camp TV ad, Edward James Olmos’ stunt double in Battlestar Galactica: Razor (as well as The Green Hornet), and several adult film credits as ‘Throbbing Male Member Stand-In*.’ I’m appearing nightly (under a very lucrative contract with syndication potential once memory transfers are a real thing) in my own dreams, and occasionally in a passing fantasy as the voice-over guy in terrible Czechoslovakian knock-off’s of 1980’s luxury car commercials, with a slightly booze-hound swagger.”

Not sure for whom the lengthy, awkward silence was more uncomfortable, but certain at this juncture that the muffled giggling from their intern was dealt with sternly following the call.

*…which begs the question, naturally, if there is more work for a flaccid stunt penis or an erect one, motion picture-wise. I mean, certainly, you’d probably see a lot more of the latter on-screen, but I have this work-in-progress script, tentatively titled ‘Tears of a Clown,’ and it involves a lot of heavy drinking and crying. And if you’re at all familiar with the inner-workings of the male unit, you no doubt understand just how those two elements tend to be relatively counterproductive when trying to perform. And then you add a clown to it all that and holy fuck, man. I mean, sure, there could be call for a swinging ding-dong in a sweatpants-clad jogging scene… Or an awkward superhero movie wherein the power is beating people up with a giant dick. Imagine that, though: He beats up dicks USING his dick. Hell, forget that and ponder just what’s going on with his polar opposite, all Superman/Bizarro-like. I should just write an allegorical piece called ‘The Lazy Dick’, and then get on working all of this together, maybe even at the hands of a villainous clown who ties it into a balloon animal-like ordeal. Adding “Based on a True Story” would boost sales in the short term, you’d imagine. It may work best as a graphic novel, come to think of it.

Six Tips When Attending Trade Shows You Don’t Belong At

sema booth babe

Oh, SEMA, you bring out the best in me.

Today’s topic: A Half-Dozen Helpful Tips on Fitting in Where You Obviously Don’t Belong — This Means YOU, Guy Who Either Mooched a Pass or Works Somewhere on the Very Fringe of the Industry (ATTN: Guy Who Supplies Thumb Tacks to the Local Auto Parts Store)

1. Don’t grab every pen, Post-It pad, sticker, magnet, ruler, sippy cup, catalog, magazine, DVD, keychain, light-up mascara case, sunglasses clip, lanyard, really tiny pouch to hold, well, really tiny things that you grab at other booths, or extra bags as you stroll by every booth… much less HANDFULLS of them. This tells me that you’re either a complete douchebag, or that you are a hoarder, and yes, probably also a douchebag.

2. Speaking of extra bags, that giant-size tote you’re hauling (with 1/3 of your giant mass listing to starboard to compensate) makes it easier to spot you from afar when I’m looking for outsiders to walk in front of as they take a photo with their flip-phone at mid-stride. There is no fine line between grabbing a few things and EVERY GOD DAMN THING YOU COME UPON. Rather, it’s a giant, conscious leap to make, and your chances of sticking that landing are as good as, well, the next item on our list…

3. No, Skippy, Miss Valve Stem 2014 wasn’t really into you, or super-excited to have another photo shot with you. While you may think that the previous 400 lard-ass, hangers-on waiting an hour to meet her and get that poster were but a warm-up to your brilliant entrance, lugging 3 metric tons of promotional materials and bashing that load into her leg, you can rest assured that all she’s thinking is “only four more hours today, and but three more days until I can cash that check! And why does this guy smell like stress balls and catalog paper, mixed with onions and Axe spray?”
While the people who actually BELONG AT THE SHOW and are WORKING are trying to squeeze past you and the 400 others just like you to get to a meeting, just know that you SHOULD take it personally when I mutter “get the fuck out of my way” to you. That week isn’t play time. It’s feed my family time. Stay home, and look at pictures of booth girls on your favorite forum between taking jabs at cars you’ll never have the skill to build, you pile of shit.

4. Stopping, mid-stride in a busy aisle to text your bros isn’t the wisest idea. I forces me to pretend that I didn’t see you when I plow into you, and then pretend that I’m sorry. That saps energy I was saving for when I have to attempt to control every fiber of my being from punching you in the throat when you finally end your phone call to your bros at home about how hot Miss Fender Washer is, and how she signed your poster “CALL ME, LOL!”, and step out of that stall after 20 minutes of hearing “No, bro, it gets better!”, and look at the line of 35 angry colons waiting to explode.

5. If nothing else, DO NOT use someone else’s pass, or try to slip in with last year’s, or some doctored pass or otherwise. What are you, like five years old? And no, I don’t believe that the Asian guy’s real name was Jesus Angelino Martinez de Venuza. I’m not buying it.

6. For the love of all that is holy, DRESS APPROPRIATELY. Nothing makes you look more out of place than the stained t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. Honestly. If you can’t respect my industry, at the very least respect yourself. It’s a PROFESSIONAL TRADE EVENT. Not the fucking Piggly Wiggly on Thursday night, you trash.

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