The wait.

We nailed it. Didn’t we?

Funny thing, confidence.

You can be in a situation where you absolutely nail the arduous, chest-beating task you have set before you. Even if you don’t actually get a standing ovation, it’s still kinda like you did. Those words of gushing praise ringing in your ears as you depart the scene. Then retreat to the welcoming arms of some local hostelry or other in order to replay the stellar performance with your beleaguered troops.

They’ve given their all. No ounce of effort left unspent. The victory is in the bag. The competition is vanquished, surely. Just need that call.

Funny thing, confidence.

With each tick of the clock it slowly ebbs away. The doubt begins to set in and you start to pick apart your efforts under ever-increasing degrees of scrutiny.

Will that phone ever ring? Will that email ever arrive? It’d better be a phone call. Yes or no, they’d better have the decency to phone. I’m sure they will. It’s what I’d do. It’s what any self-respecting member of society would do isn’t it? Maybe so. But this is advertising we’re talking about.

Politics may have the monopoly on dirty tricks but advertising has always learned pretty well from politics… and nothing surprises me these days.

Christmas.

The last day before the big holiday. It’s only just over a week away from the coal face but it always feels like you are disappearing for an eternity. Into a haze of indulgence. It’s a holiday most people take. When the blaze of communication lines cool off from their seemingly ever red-hot state.

Most are in party mood, me too. But a gloom is starting to form. That initial fortitude has faded to a hope. Still in clear view, we’re not about to throw the towel in just yet, but what seemed like a sure thing is now a longer and longer shot with each passing business day. Hour. Minute.

Second.

Time to chase. Desperate measures but we’re getting aggy. Is it too late for us to ride off into the festive sunset with something else to celebrate?

“He’s not answering his extension right now. I think he may have already finished for the break. Would you like to leave a voicemail?”

Not quite a dagger in the heart but a sense of further deflation for sure.

“Yes, I’ll leave a voicemail.”

“Hi there, <the name has been changed to protect the innocent>, it’s <see previous> from <you know the drill>. I was just hoping to get some news on the work we presented to you last week. Would be great to get some feedback before the break. I think I may have missed you so, if I have, enjoy the holidays and I’ll speak to you in the new year. I’ll be around until lunchtime if you do want to chat and my mobile is on. Speak soon.”

Or something like that.

The return call doesn’t come, surprise surprise, and the wait goes on into the festivities.

January 2nd.

The shellshocked return to their desks to clear the seasonal detritus and come to terms with the fact that they won’t be getting their afternoon nap today.

The volume is turned right down on the wait. There’s more pressing issues to attend to and this is one of those matters parked until next week.

Not surprising then, that word finally comes in. Via an email.

“We couldn’t mobilise the board.” “Too much to cram in before the break.” “There’s been some developments.” “Sorry.”

“We’re down to two. You’re one of them.”

A tremor in the flatline. That confidence that had trickled and ebbed away surges back with a violent rush. The flagging patient sits bolt upright and takes a sudden deep intake of breath as if an injection of adrenalin had been administered directly into its heart. You know, like in the movies.

So what now? There’s usually a few more hoops to jump through with these things. It’s never that easy. We’re used to the performing animal routine.

A conference call.

It turns out that in the time that’s elapsed since the original meeting, we’ve gone from ‘nailing it’, on the day, to ‘none of the ideas really hit the mark’ now. Our client and the CEO have ‘done some thinking’ that they’d like to incorporate into ours. Sounds like a negotiating tactic to me.

The best thing about pitching is that the shackles are off. The ideas are pure and unadulterated. You are showboating. Trying to impress by any means necessary. To show a laser-guided understanding of that particular set of problems. “What’s keeping them up at night?” as business development people are so fond of saying.

This is why pitch work never runs in its purest form. Before the red tape and the internal politics and the CEO’s brainfarts mess with it. Creatives are always fighting compromise. Defending ideas from the circling vultures that seek to swoop down and pick them apart. 

Until they are dust.

Time for that conference call. The wait is over.