Never cross a Creative. I learned this painful lesson firsthand when I was newly posted as a planner for the Marketing team. Coming from a manufacturing background where people were as plain as bond paper can be, I was amazed at the explosion of color and sound in Marketing, exaggerated by a mile by a unique breed of Office talent called the Creatives.
Creatives are the artists, writers and designers in the company. They render the monthly brochures that come out, each page an expression of their artistic temperament and the planners’ merchandizing tricks. Most of the time, they are fun and frivolous, quick to laugh at the slightest joke. On special occasions like Christmas parties and General Assemblies, the company makes use of the Creatives’ special function, which is to execute the theme of an event on a grand scale.
Being new to the department years ago, I was “forced”[1] by my manager to sing for the annual Marketing Christmas party. Only a handful of the hundred-strong department knew of my past musical experiences (being a choir singer for close to a decade), so most didn’t really know what to expect of me. I was probably in their eyes a three-second novelty, whose attraction dissolves before going onto the chorus.
Much to their surprise, in between gulps of San Mig lites and tequila, they heard me belt out a Pink song with the most outrageous bridge (“Get this parteh starteeeeeeeedddddd!!!”). My planning teammates shrieked in delight, and the Brand people were hollering (for more? or for less?). However, when I glanced to where the Creatives sat, they were taunting one of their graphic artists (the gayest of them all), whom we shall call Pats.
It seems that in my short pop star stint, I have slighted this prima donna and challenged him to a duel.
Pats had been the regular singer for the department’s parties for years since he was here. He always had a Regine Velasquez CD rotating heavily on his PC’s media player. At the end of the working day, he dishes out On the Wings of Love all the way to the high notes, although not as perfectly as Anton (a gay impersonator of Regine) does it.
After I sang in the party, he went up, took the microphone and sang horrendous covers (not that I am biased, but you would have found it awful if you’ve heard it) of Regine’s To Reach You and Falling. Jen, another planner like me, wanted to pull the plug off the mixer when Pats was contemplating on a third song. Fortunately, then-Director Saul invited everyone to a fresh round of games.
That was three years ago. Months after that, I regularly received Pats’s icy head-to-toe look-overs each time we passed by the hallway. Just weeks ago in my campaign’s Brochure Meeting, he was relentlessly thrashing[2] my campaign pagination[3] , deliberately making fun me. Needless to say, the others in the team could not make heads or tails of what he was saying. (Figured that out when I saw Daisy, the head copywriter, arching her left eyebrow involuntarily in Pats’ direction.)
When the meeting finished, I was raring to grab what was left of his thinning hair, but decided against it, and went straight to my cubicle to cool off instead. I cringed at the thought that this could go on forever for as long as both of us are employed in the same building.
I am at a loss at what to do, although Marni says I’d better start practicing my songs for this year.
[1] Boss: “Wanna sing?”; Me: “Yeah, sure!”
[2] Thrashing is such a weak word. Chaka-ing is more to it.
[3] Pagination is a page per page summary and sequencing of the product brochure.
posted by Elyss @ 8:22 PM
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