WELCOME ABOARD

“…and I'm a really hard worker.” I winced almost visibly as the words came out of my mouth. The job interview had been going really well up to that point. It had actually been just like talking to a newly found friend, effortless and nothing like a job interview at all. But here I was anyway, in the country’s hottest advertising agency, Ace McCann & Ogilvy. And Richard, the man I was talking to, my newly found friend, was their managing director.

“So where do you see yourself five years from now?” Richard asked. Oh, I knew the answer to that one. This question was designed to see if you were going to stay with them or hop to another company. I had done my homework.

“Will there be a vacancy in your job?” I said with a smile. Richard laughed generously. Hopefully, I had erased from his mind the crap about being a hard worker.

“All right, just a few more questions then. When can you start? How about next week? We’re really hoping you can start soon.”

My jaw must have dropped open. I couldn’t believe I had gotten the job. “How about the first?” I said. With the impending prospect of work ahead of me, my first reaction was to save what little was left of my vacation. The first of the month gave me an extra week.

Seeing through my delaying tactics, Richard shrugged and said, “All right. That will be neater I guess. So all that remains now is your compensation. What would your ideal salary be?”


Okay, here was the big question. I gave it some thought. I figured those hotshot über-nerds that had graduated at the top of my class were raking in fifteen grand in Procter & Gamble, so I said, “Fifteen?”
“We can give you that,” Richard said quickly, then he stretched out his hand. “Welcome aboard.”

Woah! Hold your horses, man! Aren’t you supposed to haggle? You’re supposed to say, “How about twelve?” and I’m supposed to say, “fourteen.” We’ll settle at thirteen and then we’ll shake hands.
I found myself shaking his hand anyway, shell­shocked by the fact that maybe I should have asked for more, maybe they were willing to give more. How could they be so nice? This wasn’t fair!

“Let me introduce you to the guys,” Richard said, getting up from his chair and opening the door.

We walked down a short corridor with framed ads that looked beyond cool and cabinets overflowing with trophies. As the posh trappings of the executive offices gave way to the clutter, desk toys, happy snaps of loved ones, and pop music from the common areas, I allowed a smile to escape from my lips.

I had done it. Everyone said it would be tough. They said the economy was in bad shape, and I would be lucky to get any kind of job where they would actually pay me money. They said that this agency only hired the very best. I had done it, by myself, without pulling any strings, and without any undignified begging.

The guys Richard was talking about turned out to be all girls. Three very gorgeous girls. I felt like I had walked into some sort of advertising cliché. The real world wasn’t like the nineties hit series Melrose Place. (Guilty as charged, I’m a sucker for the movies and TV shows of yesteryear.) Advertising agencies couldn’t be populated entirely by women as hot as Heather Locklear. And yet, there they were, looking busy but not harassed, smiling pleasantly at me.

“Guys,” Richard said to the three angels, “I’ve got you a new copywriter.”

Introductions were made. There was Camille: long black hair, body-to-die-for, ice queen. Trisha: sweet, warm brown hair, small and adorable. Catherine: glasses, smart, hair in a knot pierced by a chopstick, kinky librarian type. Then to me, Richard said, “You’ll be working with this team.”

I had no idea what I was supposed to do when the first of the month arrived, but I could hardly wait. I felt like life was just beginning.