The Age of Optimism

                                       a short story by Cindy Hammel

        In the beginning there was a pre-launch meeting to discuss the meeting for the launch, which raises the question of which meeting actually marked the beginning of the launch. Well actually, it was a re-launch, but since the initial launch never really got off the ground you could still argue that it was a soft launch, which means it didn’t really count as a real launch. So they scheduled a meeting to discuss the critical path forward for the post-soft-launch/pre-hard-launch, or pre-re-launch, depending on who you talked to. Right, so in the beginning version 2.0, there was a kick-off meeting that was re-scheduled twice. In the middle of the beginning of the pre-re-launch or post-soft-launch/pre-hard-launch kick-off meeting 2.0 there was another meeting double booked to brief in the same whatever-launch to the other department. In order to be unorthodoxly efficient with everyone’s time, they merged meetings, which naturally meant they had to CC the Blowhards.

         Well Blowhards love themselves a good meeting, so of course they came and everything was blowing pretty hard and according to agenda, at least until the Executive Asshole got up and crapped all over the strategic positioning. This was clearly not on the agenda, and to an understandable degree it frustrated the Asskissers.

        “Why do you have to go and crap all over the strategic positioning? You’re such an Asshole,” said a brave and astute Asskisser.

         “Yes I am,” said the Asshole.

         Now they would have to re-schedule a meeting to revise the positioning, and kiss more ass, to buy more time, before they could schedule the preliminary pre-re-launch-or-post-soft-launch/pre-hard-launch-kick-off-briefing-meeting 2.5. The Asshole knew this. The Asshole didn’t care.

          “Babycakes, the strategic positioning isn’t strategic, and it’s certainly not positioned.”

         The Junior Asshole watched. He learned. He knew one day, he too would crap all over the strategic positioning. He kind of wanted to take notes, but every budding Asshole knows you have to play it cool– you know, ‘fake-it-till-you-make-it.’ That Asshole instinct has to at least look like it’s built in, that it matures and sprouts just as smooth and sexy as his ironic hipster handlebar mustache. He stroked his mustache, just in case someone might be watching.

         The Asskisser didn’t really know what was so un-strategic about the un-strategic-strategic positioning. She wrote herself a memo: Google strategic positioning. She also didn’t think her cakes were all that baby anymore, and neither did the Blowhards. But never to be outdone in a meeting, and to diffuse a pending clash between the Asskisser and the Asshole, (which no one really enjoys seeing in public, except for maybe a Junior Asshole,) the Blowhards happily did what they do best. They blew hard. In fact, they blew so hard, that the un-insightful consumer-insight; the cliché-innovativeless-innovative media plan, the now crapped-on-un-strategic-strategic positioning, the pointless objective, the vague way-in, the vaguer way-out, the pointless-touch-points, the abandoned-agenda, even the donuts and company notepads blew off the conference table in a storm of foul, sticky-sweet self-important buffoonery.

         Having left his healthy contribution behind on the conference table and feeling a bit lighter in spirit than before, the Executive Asshole made his exit. The Blowhards and the Asskissers could sort out the revised critical path and book the follow-up-meeting to re-brief in the preliminary-pre-re-launch-or-post-soft-lauch/pre-hard-launch-strategic-positioning-kick-off-briefing version 2.5, without him.

         He had fought the noble fight yet again. This, this is why they pay me the big bucks, he thought to himself. If it didn’t look so idiotic he would pat himself on the back. Instead he adjusted his drawers. No one could argue with the Executive Asshole. When he crapped on something, people had to listen. They also had to watch, because any good crapping usually happened in public, right in the middle of everything and then someone else would have to clean it up. And that made him feel very important. One tiny step for Assholes, one giant step for mankind. Hey, that’s not half bad.

        Two weeks later that line of brilliance would appear as a quotable quote in HotAir Weekly. It’s nice to have friends in high places. He felt good. He felt great. Then he got called into another meeting, and as usual, they’d CCed the Blowhards.

© Cindy Hammel 2011.

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