What goes on in an Ad Girl’s mind when you’re on your first date?
Published in
3 min readJun 21, 2015
I speak for a sample size of one — I. Whilst I’m a serial monogamist (my shortest relationship is 3 years and that’s like, 21 lesbian years), I do have gap months where I date a little.
I have never, and will not be able to date an Ad Girl. It’s like Mad Men. I can’t watch it because it reminds me way too much of work. And if their minds run the way mine does, I’m sure they’d be thinking of these:
- Oh wow, I’m impressed. He managed to get reservation to this spot? I’ve been trying for two weeks but damn it, the manager isn’t a friend’s friend’s friend. Or someone I’ve slept with.
- What? He didn’t make a reservation?! He expected to stroll in? Who the fuck does he think he is? The Prince of Wales?
- No reservations. Seriously.
- These Jimmy Choos are killing me.
- An hour wait? I could’ve briefed in the 20th round of changes to my Creatives.
- Hmm. I wonder how long he spends on his hair?
- Would it be weird if I ask what hair products he’s using, so that I can use them for myself?
- How hard is it to make a reservation?
- Maybe he’s a mummy’s boy.
- Maybe he is gay.
- Nah, sweetheart, if he was gay, you would’ve been ushered to your table by now. Gays. They know how to treat a woman.
- I wonder if his Jaeger LeCoultre is real.
- Alright. Definitely fake. The bugger just said JAY-GER.
- Finally, we’re seated. Damn these Jimmy Choos.
- I’d really like that waygu hamburger but there’s no civil way of eating it.
- Ok, I’m getting the salad.
- But I really want that hamburger.
- NO. NO HAMBURGER.
- The margins on salads are so high. It’s like digital banners.
- And regional toolkits.
- I love regional toolkits.
- But I hate salads.
- Oh god, not another sob story about bad childhood. Dude, your hands are baby smooth. It’s almost as though you didn’t even need to jerk off on your own.
- Eew, gross. Did I really just think about that?
- Blame the stupid salad and that sauce.
- Nod sympathetically now. Keep nodding.
- All these years in Advertising has truly trained my poker face.
- Yes, yes, I fully empathise with your first-world problems about the high cost of living and those gorgeous bespoke shoes of yours.
- Maybe I need to date someone from a third-world country.
- I wonder if my artworks are ready.
- Maybe I should text my Traffic to ask her.
- Could swing by the office with food for the creatives…
- Waygu hamburgers!
- I’ll expense the order under House.
- As predicted, he is asking me about my hobbies.
- It’s been a decade and you can’t bring yourself to admit to loving your work so much you don’t care for a hobby?
- I think my body is allergic to his bad grammar. My eyebrow’s twitching.
- Or maybe I’m spending too much time with that grammar nazi of a copywriter.
- Alright, this isn’t going to work. This new biz pitch is over. It’s not happening. Let’s end it here.
- Fuck. It is 2 hours of my time I cannot bill.