There's someone you like.
Maybe a little, maybe a lot.
You want to ask this person out.
So you plan.
Think up witty opening remarks.
Predict some comeback statements.
Your possible responses to those.
Where you can go on a date.
What kind of questions to ask so the conversation doesn't hit dead air.
How you can stay funny without being crude, sexist, racist or whatever else 'ist'.
How you can react if it all tanks like the Titanic.
How to control the urge to let out a wild war-whoop and perform a vigorous rumba if, heaven help us, it all seems to be going well.
Perhaps how not to faint away in complete shock if the person indicates that it was fun.
That there could be another one.
Think about if you should drop them to a cab or bid goodbye and walk away.
If you should offer a handshake or a hug.
You work at it because being charming doesn't come naturally to you.
If flirting is a game of chess you're no Bobby Fischer.
In fact, you are pretty much the anti-Bobby Fischer.
So, you work at it. Hard.
Plan it all out in your head.
Down to the last detail.
Because when you like someone.
When you want to ask them out.
When you take the effort.
You're putting a little bit of yourself out there.
Who you are.
Which skills you have.
What you want.
How you see the world.
You're bracing a battered, bruised, bandaged heart.
Begging it to bear with a stupid brain just a bit longer.
Which, to be honest, is scared shitless.
And will bail out at the last minute.
Leave you trembling and blank.
Even as you say "This is who I am".
"This is everything I stand for".
"So..."
It is that one moment of awesome vulnerability.
Steeling yourself for the "No".
Praying for the "Yes".
Dreading the "Maybe".
Or worse, the disappointment that's purely an expression.
That's what being on the creative side of advertising is like.
I think.
And, we do this every day.
Song for the moment: Our day will come - Amy Winehouse
Maybe a little, maybe a lot.
You want to ask this person out.
So you plan.
Think up witty opening remarks.
Predict some comeback statements.
Your possible responses to those.
Where you can go on a date.
What kind of questions to ask so the conversation doesn't hit dead air.
How you can stay funny without being crude, sexist, racist or whatever else 'ist'.
How you can react if it all tanks like the Titanic.
How to control the urge to let out a wild war-whoop and perform a vigorous rumba if, heaven help us, it all seems to be going well.
Perhaps how not to faint away in complete shock if the person indicates that it was fun.
That there could be another one.
Think about if you should drop them to a cab or bid goodbye and walk away.
If you should offer a handshake or a hug.
You work at it because being charming doesn't come naturally to you.
If flirting is a game of chess you're no Bobby Fischer.
In fact, you are pretty much the anti-Bobby Fischer.
So, you work at it. Hard.
Plan it all out in your head.
Down to the last detail.
Because when you like someone.
When you want to ask them out.
When you take the effort.
You're putting a little bit of yourself out there.
Who you are.
Which skills you have.
What you want.
How you see the world.
You're bracing a battered, bruised, bandaged heart.
Begging it to bear with a stupid brain just a bit longer.
Which, to be honest, is scared shitless.
And will bail out at the last minute.
Leave you trembling and blank.
Even as you say "This is who I am".
"This is everything I stand for".
"So..."
It is that one moment of awesome vulnerability.
Steeling yourself for the "No".
Praying for the "Yes".
Dreading the "Maybe".
Or worse, the disappointment that's purely an expression.
That's what being on the creative side of advertising is like.
I think.
And, we do this every day.
Song for the moment: Our day will come - Amy Winehouse
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