The Crossdresser's Workplace Phrasebook.

Part 7

Perhaps you're familiar with my wife's friend Amanda. She edits Pig And Pig Farmer, a trade publication supporting the pork industry. Perhaps not the height of editorial excellence, but the woman tries hard.

You can learn more about Amanda by searching her out , if you are so inclined. As you know, I am never judgmental and rarely pass a negative word about anyone. I have, however, been known to describe Amanda as the queen of tweed. She seems to wear inordinate quantities of tweed. I swear she has tweed underwear to match. And she's been known to sew leather elbow patches on to her jackets. It can hardly come as a surprise that she's in a relationship with my neighbor Marjory. Well, good luck to them both, is all I can say.

Marjory, quite a big noise on the competitive eating scene, is hoping to excel in the sausage category this year. I'll leave you to do with that what you will. The only reason I mention it is that as their advertising agency, we are often asked to contribute our perspective on some of the publishing company's initiatives. As luck would have it, in their drive to become green and reduce their carbon footprint, I see that Amanda has been tasked with reducing their emissions. I find this quite ironic, keeping in mind her problems with chronic flatulence.

From the perspective of the agency, there are two interesting opportunities for our clients when it comes to global warming. The first is the opportunity to help align our clients with their customers values — something sure to reinforce a brand. The second opportunity is to not die on a smoking pile of ash as the planet fries itself to death. These seem to be opportunities that are in the best interests of our clients, and our planet generally. I'm all for this kind of uplifting work.

However, working on those accounts that are socially responsible is not always a cake walk, as can be attested by the frustrations that come out during some of the meetings I have to attend to keep our team on track in their efforts for a local children's hospital foundation. It's important to keep funding flowing into such foundations. However, as exciting as some of these accounts are there is a temptation to get overly creative on them.

Perhaps I should explain. A pro bono account, while not chargeable to the client, can help an agency by allowing the creatives to pursue campaigns that might not otherwise see the light of day. It's a little like letting all the creatives out of their cages for a time and allowing them to run wild.

There's a great deal of creative latitude on such accounts. These campaigns often get entered into award shows and can add substantially to an agency's reputation. The danger is that the creative team, unfettered by the client's resistance to ideas that may be a little wayward (or completely out to lunch), can run amok.

Ironically the way this works is basically that an agency gives time away to, for example, a charity that supports cancer patients that can't afford some aspect of their care. The charity steps in and helps, having had the support of the agency to raise funds. The resulting advertisement, being quite experimental may go on to win a coveted award. This is all wonderful and raises the profile of the agency to such an extent that they can win a really big budget account, like — say — a tobacco company.

These were the thoughts running around my head as I lifted a cover sheet and looked at the graphics for the latest fundraising campaign for the children's hospital.

"Julie," I called out and a moment later her head appeared around the door.

"Do you really think this captures the mood of the moment," I asked looking at the poster sized print.

"Well, it's a little edgy..." she said.

"This phrase, 'Give us your money or the kid gets it!' — I'm not sure donors are going to respond to the tone. Do you think it really conveys the empathy that the hospital likes to garner? "

"Well, not so much. But you know Trev. He likes to tell it like it is," said Julie, referring to the copy writer.

"And this image of the nurse. I mean, I never saw a nurse carrying a gun and pointing it at a child. We don't have nurses with guns in our hospitals do we?"

"No, not to my knowledge. Not in Canada, at any rate," said Julie very dryly.

"Well, let's just circle round on this in a few days, as the boys in strategy like to say."

We were interrupted by the arrival of the senior partner. I don't know why I had the urge to stand as he entered the office, but it seemed the thing to do.

"Oh, do sit down, Fiona," he said, all salt and pepper man of the world like. Pretty handsome too, all things considered.

Julie made herself scarce and closed the office door.

"To what do I owe this pleasure," I asked.

"Oh, nothing really. I just had a look at our org chart — you know the one Nigel distributes. I see Brenda in Human Resources reports to you."

"Yes," I replied sounding confident. If it was a surprise to him it was more of a surprise to me. Either way as the corporate moral officer I have many responsibilities.

"It must be very challenging wearing so many hats in the office, Fiona," and then he added with an almost conspiratorial voice, "even on such a strikingly pretty head."

I was confused for a moment and then, considering this titan of business's great age I understood.

"Well," I said with a coy smile, "I like hats."

The old fellow chuckled, his cheeks reddening. "I bet you do, my dear."

He huffed and puffed for a moment his eyes drifting off to the view over the bay. Looking into the distance he murmured "I once saw that Tom Jones fellow . You know... errr. Yes, you know the song."

The senior partner looked embarrassed for a moment. I smiled to myself thinking how this old rogue was just having fun with his job. And isn't that what we'd all like really? Just to enjoy our work, and occasionally torture someone for our own amusement. Suddenly all business he returned to the matter at hand.

"So what do you think of this Brenda woman? Any good? Her probation is up in a few days."

"Oh yes, she's fine. A little confused at times, but she seems quite capable of resourcing humans adequately. She'll get it."

He hummed a little and puffed some more.

"Came up with some damned silly idea about posting a sign showing how many days since the last suicide. Bloody unusual concept," he said with a frown. "Yes, bloody unusual."

"Oh, don't worry about that, it was just me yanking her chain," I confessed.

The senior partner chuckled and said, "Yes, I thought as much."

For a moment there was an awkward silence. I watched as his eyes roved over my desk and then settled on the pad I'd written on a few days before.

"Hmmm... The Workplace Phrase Book... yes. That's not bad."

He paused and rubbed his chin and then added, "Yes, not bad at all. You should do something with that."

The end.