Yesterday, by some good fortune, actually went very well despite being press day for one of the more notoriously... er... complicated magazines. While the sales manager appears to have cleaned up his act somewhat (certainly in terms of drink, if not drugs), we still had a situation where five whole pages - one of them in a premium position - were unsold between Wednesday and Friday morning, and most ended up going out with free ads occupying the spaces. The other salespeople rallied round in the end, but it took a little bit of speech-making by me (with the assistance of one of the other salespeople) for them to show any interest because the general response was "I could try to sell in this ad but... well, it's him, isn't it?"
Being a Salesperson must be hard while being universally loathed... But it's the kind of thing one brings upon oneself. He is rude, he is unreasonable, and he has some bloody stupid ideas.
Thing is, while his magazine may never be one of the big hitters, financially, it's always been something of a flagship. When I started working in that office back in 1999, the company took its name from that magazine. The salesperson who helped me convince others to help did so by telling them she was proud to work on that magazine.
Of course, that didn't stop her selling to the competition, which led to her getting booted out... only to return a couple of years later, when we bought the competition... but that's another story.
In the end, the magazine turned out well. The final section was sent off by 4.30 - about three hours earlier than Wednesday's debacle - end everyone got to start their weekend on time.
Speaking of Wednesday, I had an amusing and edifying conversation with the senior designer on that magazine on Friday. He laid blame for the delays squarely at the feet of the editor, because she spent too much time talking, rather than doing her work. Strange... as I would have blamed him for the delay, and for exactly the same reason. Also because, despite being 'Senior Designer' by rank, he is incapable of saying 'no' to his editors.
Overall, the team did well for a change, even him. Recently, because they couldn't be trusted to take lunch at sensible intervals, preferring to all head out en masse, leaving the department understaffed, my boss introduced a system where whoever was on press got to decide whether they took their lunch at 12 or 1, and their opposite number had to take the other slot. This system applied to both design and copy control, and my boss asked me to make sure this system was adhered to while she was away. I have to admit that, because my magazines were looking so good, I decided I wouldn't bother on Wednesday, just to see what happened. Whether it was that, or just the Editorial flouncing, by Friday, I didn't need to ask them. They were deciding it themselves.
One of the funniest parts of the week (and again, for anyone who knows me, how strange is it that I found any part of a week where I was running the department funny?) was one of those 'watercooler conversations' at the end of the day on Friday.
Our long-term freelancer was already there, drinking his water, while everyone around was packing up and making ready to leave, including our Canadian copy controller who sits right near the water cooler. As I poured my water, the temp asked if I'd be coming down the pub for a few drinks after work. I told him I wouldn't, that I'd be taking myself home before I lost my voice completely (and there again, I'm stressed, I'm ill, and I'm still finding things funny? What's come over me?).
"Is it that bad?" he asked.
"No, it's really not. My voice just keeps dropping off every so often."
Without missing a beat, and with a very solemn look on her face, the copy controller suggested "Maybe it's puberty."
The temp very nearly spat out his water.
Canada Dry Humour: You owe it to your colleagues.
So here we are, in the weekend. My throat is still bad (not sore, just not right, and I'm still coughing) and I probably have an ear infection as well. The light is still wrong for decent photography, which becomes ever more annoying with every cool idea I have.
I discovered last night that Ravage can be posed in a fairly accurate 'cat ready to pounce' position. Also, with only a minor adjustment to the back legs and by opening his mouth, he can be switched into 'hairball' position (cat owners, you know the one). He can't quite do a convincing 'sitting' pose because there's no way to arch the back, and I suspect lying down is out of the question... but it occurred to me that I could do a photo series of my custom Alternator Soundwave training kitty Ravage to perform tricks.
Oh well... I must content myself for the time being by having Ravage on my desk in 'James Bond Mode'.
Please excuse the Kinder toys... Couldn't help myself.
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