Friday 4 July 2008

Yankee doodle shandy


Today is American independence day, which puts me in mind of an example of chronically bad pr that occured on this day six or seven or eight years ago. I think.


An American PR had just started his career this side of the Atlantic so was obviously keen to make a good impression with the London contacts they had made prior to the transatlantic transfer. So it was no suprise when, on the fourth of July, we were invited out for some Independence Day drinks.


The PR told us the time and the place and we rolled up empty stomached and empty pocketed, in anticipation of a free night of booze and chips. The first surpirse of the night that was there was no sign of his PR colleagues. Fair enough, we weren't bothered. Secondly a lot of his American mates (civilians) were there. Fine. It's his corporate credit card we thought so if he wants to spend it on non-industry friends that's his lookout.


The third and nastiest surprise of the lot arrived shortly after. Hellos and introductions were made and then there was an awkward pause as we waited for our orders to be taken. And we waited. And we waited. And then we realised. Holy shit we have to buy our own drinks. He thinks we are actual friends.


As far as we're concerned this is a line that should very rarely be crossed (a bit like when the characters in Spooks start having relationships with civilians). Not only did we have to buy our own drinks, we had to buy the PR drinks and we had to buy the PR's friend drinks. Gee. Suss.


Needless to say we stayed on the shandies all night, waited for a respectable time (52 minutes) and then left to see our real friends. Seperately. Like British people.


God bless America.

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