Snakes in the Grass

Someone told me recently that they miss my posts and I really should blog more. I find that ironic, considering that every other time I open my mouth to share an opinion in the real world, I’m invariably asked to shut up.

Like the other day, when one half of the top management tried to teach me a lesson for sharing my views. I’d gotten a tad fed up with a particularly tiresome client who, for the last month, has insisted that we develop umpteen visual artwork options in every pose, angle, colour and whim imaginable, just because they couldn’t make up their minds as to what they wanted. It went to the extent of doing artworks that were so, so wrong, cheap looking and an embarrassment to any good art director. We’d been complaining about it for weeks to our Client Servicing guys, asking them to kindly educate the client on their obvious mistakes and save the project from bombing in the market. But to no avail. We were asked to be Nike about it - ‘just do it’, despite our misgivings.

In the spirit of good creativity and an attempt to stop the Art Directors from walking out on the job, I lodged in an official complaint to the management on behalf of my creative team. I’ve done this plenty of times before when things have become exasperating (and they do very often with this same client), in the hopes it might have a positive outcome in the kind of work we output. I sent an internal mail addressing the problems and what we thought was wrong with the latest directions (or should I say dictates) on the project, ending by explaining my frustrations with the client’s attitude and disregard for professional service. I questioned the client’s motives in giving us art direction, when it clearly wasn’t their forte. My work and team’s talent is something I take great pride in, and it gets my royal goat when we are expected to put aside our skill for the sake of imbecilic requests. This wasn’t about egos… it was about doing what’s right for the job at hand.

As always, this rattled the Client Servicing Management. He doesn’t like it when the creative team fusses (We fuss a lot, but often because the nature of the system is such that we have plenty of justifiable cause for fuss). To him, client is more than just king- he is God and the universe combined. Much like the Sri Lankan government’s motto, no ruler should ever be questioned or called out on blatantly wrong decisions. How DARE I have a problem with slavery and unnecessary work load.

Because every other trick in his book had not worked thus far in stopping me from pointing out the flaws, he did what every good, understanding superior does to solve employee grievances. He sent my internal complaint, strong wording and all, directly to the Managing Director of the Client Company. You cannot imagine the fireworks that ensued thereafter and the spate of reactions it caused. I had dared to question them. I had the gall and nerve to NOT lick their anus on demand. I must fired at once. FIRED.

He’s lovely that way, the top management. A real joy.

But guess what… I don’t regret a thing. In fact, I was QUITE proud of myself for sticking to my guns and calling it as I saw it. As far as I’m concerned, the snake at the top can suck it.

Speaking of snakes, I met another one this morning. A real one this time, legless and all. I was taking my new found joy- a kitten I’d recently adopted off the street for a walk in the garden when we noticed the grass rustling. I’d have put it down to a dung beetle if kitty had not shot up onto my shoulder faster than the Road Runner, hissing and spitting like bacon fat on the fire. On closer inspection I discovered a slithery trespasser, as shocked by my intrusion as much as I was with his. No doubt he’d come out on holiday to nap and take in some sun, only to be rudely jostled out of his spa baking by a large woman and her cat.

I could take this into a ream of jokes about pussies and snakes, but I won’t. There are probably children reading. Or childish minds, at least.

Back to the snake, who was still looking quite surprised and uncertain as to what his next move should be. One thing was for sure… he didn’t want us staring at him. Couldn’t he be left alone even for a second?

I decided to get rid of him tactfully. One can’t experiment with serpents in the garden, after all.

“Hello there”, I said, with as big an accommodating smile as I could manage under the circumstances. “ I don’t mean to be rude, but this is, you know, MY garden, and…er… I really do need to let the cat down for a poo. I’d be ever so grateful if you could… you know… step…uh… slink away for a few so I can let her do her thing without scratching my eyeballs out? Would you mind terribly? She’s about to piss on my blouse in terror.”

“Hiss” said the snake, and stuck out his tongue just in case I didn’t get that.

He looked at me warily. Clearly he hadn’t expected hospitality. Was I perhaps hiding a sickle behind the cat, that I would maim him with once he’d let down his guard? That’s all people do with snakes, after all. They’re born into a life of torture and uninvited violence.

“Hiss”, he stated again.

“Alright look, I know I disturbed you and all that, for which I AM sorry. Just go away and I won’t do anything to you, ok?” I begged him. The kitten’s claws were starting to dig to China on my shoulder.

I think he understood. Emitting what I suppose was a serpentine grumble, he slithered away – albeit slowly because he wanted to seem nonchalant and unaffected – under the gate and away from the house. Given what would invariably happen to him when someone saw him on the road, I’d have preferred if he’d gone the other way and found a nice permanent rat hole to nest in, rather than getting all suicidal about it, but it was his call.

Another fifteen minutes of coaxing and reassuring and the kitten was satisfied the ground was, indeed, all clear. She sniffed around for a bit just to make sure and then had a nice poo.

Morale of the story? Not everything unfamiliar needs to be addressed with violence. Just be careful of which snakes you choose to hang out with.