Unit Verse

RFP Theatre

• by Andy 1 year ago
• 3 Comments

Dear Ad agencies and their serial clients,

You guys are awesome. You’re highly entertaining; better even than an organ grinder and his trained monkey. No, seriously, you should come up with a good name for it and televise your little soap opera on one of the networks so that housewives and previously-employed ad executives and brand managers can watch in the afternoons.

Serial clients of ad agencies, you guys kill me. Ha! (*knee slap*) You’re like the vicious movie villainess we all love to hate. You stand there all sexy and inviting, but everyone knows you’ve got no moral core, no ethical boundaries and yet you’re knee-deep in suitors who just keep asking you out on dates (that’s ‘cause you’ve got half of the booze and all of the money). You dance around and show a little leg while pretending you’ve got rules and boundaries that you and everyone else should respect and then WHAM! …you pull your trick—you’re caught making out with some girl no one else even knew was invited to the party. God bless ya’, you keep pulling that same ol’ crap and agencies just keep falling for it. Awesome.

Your plan is as masterful as it is gutsy, and the genius lies in its simplicity. Even though you know nothing about running the process or what it takes to create what you need, you have the balls to demand that you set all of the rules that agencies must follow. And even though you should do your homework and research to find the agency that best suits your needs and requirements, you pretend that this is the agencies’ problem. But your talents aren’t just relegated to deflecting responsibility. You are also talented puppet masters! You’re all like, “I know…we’ll get the agencies to do a bunch of the work up front and without pay!” Pure genius.

Ad agencies, watching you is like watching reruns of some Fellini film. You complain about how you hate being set up and proclaim that you’re a bunch of savvy and worthy professionals, but when the cattle call goes out, you line up at the abattoir with everyone else. “Oh, no, we’re not cattle. We’re perfeshnuls! Huh huhh. (*drool)” Maybe the only thing that could make it more entertaining is if you dressed up like Pagliacci while you did your thing. “Work and expenses first? We’re there! Creative effort before ever meeting with the clients? We can do that! Boo hoo, we’re such sad clowns!” :-(

And then you walk straight into the meat grinder and act like you’re surprised and hurt. While it is hilarious to watch as you throw childish tantrums as if at the grocery store with mommy; …you go ragdoll limp and flop towards the floor, crocodile tears streaming down your pathetic, collective face, snot gathering just above your upper lip… it’s even more hilarious when mommy just lets go of your hand, walks out to the car and leaves your hypocritical ass lying in the middle of aisle seven.

Then you whimper and sob just a bit louder to make sure that everyone heard you, which while not funny, is entertaining. It is funny, however, when you then pick yourself up off the floor and saunter out of the store all cool and stuff, playing things off like you’ve got self-respect and dignity. Yes, like the poet once said, all the world’s a stage and you are merely players. But you always seem to play the same part. What are you, typecast method actors?

Anyway, ad agencies and their clients, please continue to behave like idiot children. Please continue to pretend that creativity, strategic acumen, design, brilliant ideas, and masterful execution are commodities …and that the RFP process is relevant and useful. Please continue to pretend like you’re all professionals behaving in a professional manner in a professional process.

RFP Theatre (Ridiculous Faux Professionals Theatre) is a hoot to watch and even fun to read about. So y’all keep doin’ y’all thang. The rest of us are having a blast watching.