I don’t know why people feel compelled to find out “what you do” when they first meet you. Technically you do a lot of stuff, you miss trains, over sleep, avoid the land lady, pile your plate with more than you can eat and occasionally throw stuff at strangers from a window no one can see. But if all these details were to be divulged, you’d be considered NIMHANS-worthy, so it’s just safer to say Copywriter.
I say that with some pride.
However the reactions I meet with when I give out this precious little nugget, must be discussed. I’m assuming everyone who reads this blog knows what a copywriter is. (The one who writes pseudo intellectual status messages on face book.)
But let’s not digress. So, whenever someone asks me what I do. I say I’m a copywriter. Typically, the ones who don’t know what a copywriter really is, but don’t want to seem stupid, just nod politely and look away.
The ones who are really really curious (read mother’s friends, father’s friends and people who have a lot of time to kill) will ASK YOU QUESTIONS. Prepare to say, No, you don’t write jingles. Oh wait, yes you could, you might in fact…but it’s not the only thing. You didn’t write Utterly Buttrely Delicious either. You were born in 1986. (Do I meet terribly stupid people?) And your agency is not Orchid. It’s Orchard like the fruit bearing Orchard. And the people who work with you are not all alcoholics. Not all. You don’t know what your future is either. “ It’s definitely NOT bleak uncle.”
You always roll your eyes at your mother at this point.
I think the worst ones are the know-it-alls. They are convinced you are a lawyer. Like Copyrighter, copyright laws? Get it?
There are some who know that you are a bloody sell out. Americanized, mercenary, cheating the common public with surreal claims.
Bambi eyes don’t work on such people, I can tell you.
But I still I’m brave and I explain what I do, and most times people are simply jealous.
That makes me very happy.