You can tell a lot about a person by what they keep in their desk, so when he wasn’t looking, we raided our copywriter’s drawers and then forced him to explain away the weirdness. Because honest truth? We were looking for a bottle of bourbon, which we thought all copywriters kept stashed for emergencies. Alas, no cigar. But we did find:
A letter from Services Canada.
A few months ago, I got a letter from The Man informing me I owed the government money. Wanting to spend my hard-earned cash on things like beer and a new muffler instead, I threw the letter in the trash and figured the problem resolved. Then they sent a collection agency after me and I got scared and folded. Thanks, Government, now I can’t even afford Blue Ribbon and my muffler still sounds like WW2.
Are those Gary’s MIA batteries?
Okay, yes! I stole Gary’s batteries when he was out walking his dog. Eventually the power in his mouse dried up, and he started asking questions about where all his batteries went. I blamed it on the receptionist because she was out of the office at the time and moving back to Australia in 2 weeks anyways.
Is it my fault that the office supply purchasing princess thinks copywriting requires a baker’s dozen of pens a day to keep up with all those pretty ideas bouncing around in our noggins. Seriously, couldn’t we have used some of that pen money to buy the office a sweet X Box or something?
A package of soy sauce.
Gives me the boost I need for that afternoon lull.
(Clearly, this is not our office Sriracha addict.)
Whenever a headline gets sent back or I get briefed for a project that was due yesterday, I take a look at my shiny bottle cap collection and remind myself that the sweet taste of beer is just around the corner.
Power outlet covers and random pieces of metal.
I have no idea what this stuff is for, but if no one claims it in the next two weeks, I’m bringing it to the yard and selling it for scrap.
Final Analysis: No worthy snacks will be found in the copywriter’s desk, in event of a blood sugar emergency. And note to the Purchasing Princess, our copywriter needs a personal trashcan.
Next week, we’ll investigate where all the sticky-notes in the office went by poking around the account manager’s corner.