WARNING: Don't read this story if easily offended by niceness.
The desire to create, to be given the opportunity to use any such talent for reward and to experience the joy of witnessing the end results rested deep within Freddie Redding, a media studies graduate from a third-rate college.
However, because of his lowly degree plus lack of experience invariably met advice not to complete the recruitment form when he applied for jobs in creative advertising in New York.
So at Grand Central he picked out a town upstate in an endeavor to kick-start his career at a small city/big town, make his mark and then head back to Manhattan. It didn't matter to him what place he chose so he picked the first name that appealed on the timetable and waited for his train, thinking life sucks.
Early that afternoon Freddie made his pitch. The advertising manager of 'The Beacon' – a tabloid newspaper - started off promising, asking numerous questions but then declaring he had a full staff with no authority to recruit over the 'establishment' figure.
Freddie said he'd like to see the newspaper owner, a request that rather started the manager, who agreed to initiate the request.
Freddie was ushered into an office marked 'Proprietor' but instead of a bewhiskered old man with glasses perched above his forehead he was introduced to Mrs West, slightly bewhiskered but without glasses and only middle-aged.
Thirty minutes later she called the advertising manager, her nephew John Young, and told him to find a desk for Freddie who was starting as a contract advertising salesperson and would be paid by the column inch of space he sold.
"This is highly irregular."
"Your job is to find Mr Redding a workspace, not to tell me how to do my job," snapped John's aunt.
Freddie was placed in the darkest corner of the office, then given a list of names and addresses of all current advertisers and instructed not to go near them.
Freddie went to leave the office and was called back by John Young, who advised that Freddie must log the assignment book where he was going and his estimated time of return.
"When I'm on permanent staff I will follow office systems; but until then I work as I wish," he said, leaving John speechless with indignation.
Freddie was in a strange town, supervised by a manager who didn't want him and no instructions where to find likely suckers – er, possible potential advertisers. In all, a very unpromising start.
Outside the newspaper offices Freddie watched contractors reforming one side of Main Street. He phoned the number written on the vehicles after checking that the company wasn't a current advertiser and asked to speak to the chief executive.
"Hello, Mr Castle – Freddie of 'The Beacon'. Your men are doing a great job outside our offices.
"What, still another 800 yards to go?
"Yes, they are working.
"Listen, hundreds of townspeople will see your men working, some of them cursing because of the dust, mess or being held up because two lanes are out of use for traffic. Why don't you take out an ad in 'The Beacon' apologizing for the inconvenience?
"Why? To engender goodwill and to build business."
"Right, I'll tell you what will work – a quarter page, thick black border with your company name and logo at the bottom. The heading says,
'Sorry About the Mess But We're Improving Main Street.' 'No job too small. Phone us now for repairs or new work before winter sets in. Your job will be next. 'Castle Highway Construction and Permanent Paving… etc.'
"Yes, of course that's not many words for a quarter page ad. You'll get a two-line big heading and plenty of white space to make the ad look attractive and stand out.
"Of course, I understand Mr Jones, you are not meant to know much about advertising; your expertise is building highways. I'm your expert consultant in advertising.
"What do I recommend? Three insertions that will cost you $1320.00 all up."
"It's not a lot of money; it's probably two- thousandth of what you are being paid for this reconstruction contract.
"Mr Castle, there's been no breach of confidentiality by the city administration. I had no idea what the value of the contract was worth. I just took a stab.
"Drop in for a beer on Friday night? I'd really like that, Mr Jones as I'm new in town. Could you please have your PA phone in the space order. Thank you."
Freddie rubbed his hands. He'd just made $264 as his first commission as the artwork, setting and composition would be charged out to the client. Jim Castle had said he didn't advertise because he knew nothing about it and the other people at 'The Beacon' were next to useless. He would use Freddie as his consultant and they'll talk about a fee over a beer late Friday afternoon.
"They make an awful mess, don't they?"
Freddie turned and saw a beautiful brunette waiting for him to answer.
"Relatively speaking yes, but practically speaking no – it's a messy job, they are watering down dust and other management practices appear at least adequate."
"Do you work for Jim Castle?"
"No, I work for 'The Beacon'.
"No you don't, Are you some sort of trickster?"
"Mrs West hired me fifteen minutes ago to sell advertising on contract."
"But we don't employ contract ad reps."
"How would you know?"
"Because I am general manager of 'The Beacon'.
"Well, fancy that – here is the letter of authority Mrs West scrawled out for me until my business cards are printed. Does that satisfy you?"
"I'm sorry, Freddie," she said sweetly, flushing slightly. "You can never be too careful these days. I'm Lucy, Mrs West's daughter."
"Hi, do I kiss you or just shake hands?"
She now really flushed. "A handshake will suffice."
"Good, I didn't want to mess you make-up. Why don't you do a better job with it?"
"Pardon me," she said stiffly.
"I'm sorry – I'm a bit of a tease. However you'd benefit by having expert tuition. You have lovely skin but your cosmetic tonings are out."
"You think you know better than I do?"
"In this instance, yes. My parents run an old-fashion emporium and I've worked in every department."
"Even in make-up and lingerie?"
"Yes, let's look at you – 34B bra, dress between 7 and 8, medium hose and shoes probably a seven."
"That's incredible – I do fit some size seven dresses and occasionally size six and a half shoes will fit. You appear to be a very interesting man Freddie. I must dash – but come with me for a drink after work today, Freddie; I'd like to find out why a young man with your obvious talent would want to settle in the place like this."
"Thank you, I'll come to your office."
They smiled and parted, his smile growing wider as he watched the slight swing in her ass as she walked up the steps to enter the offices of her newspaper.
Freddie called at two stores not on the list of advertisers and met only impenetrable resistance from management. He took a break, disappointed, at coffee shop and ordered a flat white. The premises were crowded but there was one woman at a table with three empty seats. He introduced himself as Freddie Redding and asked if he could sit at the table.
"Yes, by all means – but please say something funny to make me smile."
"You are quite a rare woman – you are wearing a perfectly fitting bra."
The woman laughed, said that was a lucky guess, and introduced herself as Dora Washington.
"Hello, Dora. Do you work in the city centre or are you a lady of leisure?"
"Until recently I owned this thriving coffee shop, but thought ten years was enough so sold it and bought a lingerie store but that is ailing because of discounting by two competitors at the mall."
"What are you doing about that?"
Dora looked at him quizzically and before stuffing her mouth with the remaining piece of fruit cake asked, "What can I do?"
"Advertise a point of difference and in-store have a full range but always feature your top lines in the window show case, leaving the display no longer than two weeks before changing it. At one end feature an item, say a product you'll describe as 'Our top bra' and then another item, even a bra, down the other end you call, 'This week's special'. Both will sell because some women like to be seen buying quality while others are a sucker for bargains.
"You've worked in retailing."
"Yes, for my parents, who operate an old-style emporium in central Pennsylvania…"
"The Settlers' Emporium?"
"Yes."
"I've detoured to visit it two years ago and I met your parents – the name Redding has come back to me. Very nice people. You've worked in lingerie haven't you? That remark of yours earlier about my perfectly fitting bra tells me that. What sort of advertising?"
"Small ads costing say $150 each or instead go for bust, if you'll excuse the pun, and take a full page for $1760 I think it is including a loading for requesting an early right-hand page."
Freddie checked his rate card and added in the loading – "Sorry, that would be $1780. May I disclose to you that I began working for 'The Beacon' on commission about one hour ago, appointed by Mrs West. So the larger the ad you take, the bigger my commission."
"It's honest of you to point that out; what do you recommend?"
"A full page radical ad."
Dora sighed. "Something told me you'd recommend a big ad – you are betting on the King Hit, aren't you?"
"Yes, and if it works you then fall back to regular small ads using a similar theme. Here's what I suggest."
Freddie spread out his white paper serviette that had come with his coffee. In the centre of the ad he drew two humps that looked like a child's drawing of a bird.
"Symbolic of breasts?"
Freddie nodded while writing a small heading: 'They Deserve the Perfect Fit. Get yours in traditional or latest styles, expertly fitted, at (business name and address)'.
"I like it – but the type is squashed right down the bottom of the page."
"Right, let me explain. The white page with just a child-like drawing attracts attention. 'What's this they ask…a bird…two islands in the sea? Ohmigod, it's meant to be a pair of boobs. Just what is this?'
"And they read down and are surprised the type is so small, but they can read it easily enough. If they are women in poorly fitting bras the image of our little drawing and accompanying words will haunt them."
Dora's face creased and she said, "So next morning or soon after, in they'll trot and I make sale after sale and win some of those people as regular clients."
