As you likely know I work in a busy advertising agency handling all sorts of accounts. We have companies of all kinds, political parties, and marketing companies.
It happens to fall to me, among other things, to look after one of the political campaigns, and the Cheese Marketing Board, among many others. My role does involve me working closely with the seniopr management of these organizations. I even sit on the cheese board – a curious position as you can probably understand – especially when it comes to an awkwardly placed cocktail stick.
The Cheese Marketing Board is really a lot of fun. We have many imported cheeses as well, of course, of the wonderful Canadian cheeses. Perhaps you are aware that American cheeses are ‘processed milk product’, while Canadian cheeses are natural textured cheese. Canadian regulations prohibit the use of artificial growth hormones (rbST) in dairy production, which is not the case for all US milk.
We often have product tasting afternoons which we pair with one of our BC wine clients. It’s a fun account to handle. Today I was organising a tasting in one of the board rooms. Sylvester managed to inveigle his way into this event, surprising as may seem. It appears even the Neanderthal taste buds appreciate fine Canadian cheeses.
While some clients, and various hangers on at the agency enjoyed the tasting in the main board room, I was left to handle a small public relations situation. Apparently one of our political clients on the left of centre had got themselves elected (wonder of wonders) on one of the small Gulf Islands, and to everyone’s surprise would take his place at the next sitting of the provincial legislative assembly – the ‘state legislature’ to my American friends.
A news paper with a grinning photo of ‘Red Lester’, recently elected candidate, lay on my desk as my wife’s appalling friend Amanda burst into my office uninvited.
“I’m looking for Sylvester,” she said all afluster.
“What on earth’s the matter, Amanda’” I asked.
“Oh, I have to give him the keys to my truck. He said he’d take a look at it,” she replied.
Amanda’s eyes drifted to the paper on my desk. Amanda is editor of the well respected organ of the Pig farming community, Pig and Pig Farmer Monthly.
“About now I think Sylvester is probably pushing Red Leciester, down his throat,” I said, thinking Amanda might join the party in the boardroom.
Amanda stared at me.
“You people… Honestly! You’re disgusting. Disgusting!”
She turned on her heel and left my office in a huff. I really don’t understand her sometimes.
Anyway, that’s not the main reason I am writing tonight. I thought I’d just wish you all a happy Halloween and remind you that there’s some great Halloween stories on my Patreon at http://Patreon.com/fionadobsonCD Be sure to join the Patreon for exclusive content.
Have a lovely week,
Fiona.