ADVERTISERS' DAY

It was December. Sun-drenched, frostily crisp. I was on my way to Grupppa, flaunting a brilliant idea I planned to pull from my sleeve, like a magician from his hat, at the next client meeting. "Rabbit" was unique. Red, wild, dangerous, with unnaturally long teeth that scraped against the marble surfaces of intellects. Tajax powder was supposed to be a breakthrough! A die thrown over the Rubicon. A first, timid step on the rough surface of the moon. I could already see their shocked expressions, that blank slate slowly being written in the new advertising language. I smiled to myself, the smile of a sincere thirty-year-old man. I knew I'd hit the jackpot. Of course, right up to the agency's door, I couldn't think of anything else. With a confident move, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"How's it going? It's freezing," I told Renata, our receptionist. She responded with a slightly forced, sleepy smile. She leaned over the counter, beckoning me over with her hand.

"There's someone to see you, I've seated him in the conference room.

" "A client?

" "I think so, so elegant... handsome." Renata lowered her voice and became lost in thought.

"But is this the one from Tajax? A bit early... Okay. I'm going. Renatka..." I winked at her. "So, coffee?"

She nodded. I quickened my pace. I pressed the doorknob and entered the conference room, which was still slightly dim. I couldn't find a single figure. Finally, I spotted him. He was sitting against the wall, watching me.

"Good morning," the first one spoke. "I'm a bit... but I won't take up much of your time anyway. Jan Kowalski.

" "Hello," I replied, overwhelmed by the rush of his words

. "Before you start, I want to warn you that I disagree."

I must have looked like one big question mark, because he quickly added,

"I know you've come up with something unique, I mean... the agency, but I disagree with that line of reasoning," he said, sitting proudly in his chair.

"I haven't said anything yet, and you... We have a very innovative project, but I'd prefer to discuss it in a larger group. Perhaps we could grab some coffee?

" "I've already told you I won't take more than 15 minutes, and thank you for the coffee, unless you have Essence of Pleasure?

" "No... I don't know... I'll ask. And why that particular one, if I may ask. The taste?

" "Haven't you seen their ads on TV? Great, excellent..." My interlocutor's face turned the color of a July hollyhock, "and that music!"

"I have, but... I'll be honest, it didn't blow me away.

" "Why?" Kowalski frowned.

"Exactly, the music. Simple and bland, it didn't catch my ear at all, I don't hum it." That's a sign to me that I shouldn't bother with her. Besides, I honestly don't remember her very well. Getting back to Mr.... I wanted to ask him what he was doing here, what he was looking for, where he came from...

"I can't just leave you to deal with this problem," Kowalski rose from his chair and began pacing the room. He continued his lecture with his head down. "You probably think we're all just a Christmas tree, or what? That we're stupid and can be bluffed, that you can try to sell us some bluff or some sly joke?! Didn't you consider that for an ad to be successful, it doesn't have to be well-remembered. It'll get tangled up in your head anyway and end up in front of the store shelf. I'm telling you, I know, I've been through this myself. I've often thought I was insensitive and that it didn't affect me. You know what's really most important?! Tell me, this is your business, after all.

" "You mean 'Holy Trinity'?" I was starting to get a little impatient. After all, he was on my turf, and he was lecturing me.

"Exactly." "Mr. Janek held up three fingers. "Awareness, interest, and arousing interest in someone... like me, for example.

" "You're just going off on a tangent here," I couldn't resist. "I'll tell you something, listen very carefully now. I'll reveal the secret recipe for the best advertising ever." I moved very close to him. He was shorter, which made me feel strangely powerful and powerful. "Now, let me tell you: a surprising idea, an original association, and intelligent, high-class humor. Besides, there's the customer and the product sales, the company's turnover, and so on..." I mused. "Advertising has to be like a traveling salesman knocking on door after door. They don't want him anywhere, and yet he climbs up the chimney and sells his fantastic, multi-functional vacuum cleaner.

" "Remember the coffee?

" "Yes, I'll call you right away, but I think we only have the Dark Continent." I dialed the receptionist's number, and Renata confirmed my suspicions. "Well, then we'll have a little safari across the continent...

" "My wife and I don't drink this coffee for ideological reasons."

"Excuse me? What kind? Slavery was abolished a long time ago," I replied, a bit ironically.

"Have you seen their ads?" A tired husband returns from work. He throws his briefcase in the corner, and his wife meekly brings him freshly ground coffee. The husband awakens from his stupor and finally drags his wife to bed. Everything takes place against the backdrop of, of course, the continent."

And again, that poor woman. Mother, wife, and lover, and an excellent cook to boot. A stereotype. They say you can't fight it, but only supposedly. Look at me. Such an inconspicuous little person, and yet I do so much around the house. I wash, do laundry, iron, choose the best tomatoes and milk, and I do it well. Why fool yourself when we all know that all these "women's" ads are straight out of a mythical legend? Come on, understand... We're not that stupid. We see ourselves being fooled. Sure, everyone likes cute animals munching on meatballs, but we all know it's a sham.

Oh, such an innovation: animals eat while a lot of meatballs are scattered around them. That would mean they really enjoy their food, that they eat in a hurry. Do you know how my wife and I laugh at these perfect people, perfect places, and excessive cleanliness? No one wants to see this anymore! We want the truth! Humor, that kind of… understated message. Not like this: buy a phone and you'll definitely always associate it with big tits. The worst…

"You know, sex… is something pleasant," I smiled to myself, thinking about Friday night. "It's easy to generate positive emotions based on it. And let me tell you, in confidence, only agencies rely on sex when they can't think of anything better. Sex is always included. It just depends on who's selling and for how much…

" "You know, I won't lie, I like a famous actress, and how she shows this and that, but in a completely different context. Either the product is presented properly, or the star is in a different constellation.

" "Celebrities can help," I said in the tone of an experienced old man. "For example, a football player. He calls, and I call, and maybe even the same Krystyna from the gasworks," I grinned at Mr. Kowalski.

"But a presenter and cardboard noodle soups?" A ton of hairspray, a forced smile, and cheap student soups—who'll believe it? It's a lie a mile away. That's what I'm after. The truth. No one will believe the good quality at the low price of Prusapolep anymore. I have here—he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket—"I have a petition. People have signed it. I wish you'd make more intelligent ads. The kind for real people, not this slanderous stuff..." Mr. Kowalski's face flushed again. Meanwhile, he energetically loosened his tie.

I was beginning to understand what this was all about. But I still couldn't say a word. I sat there as if in hibernation. I sobered up when Renata entered the room.

"They came from..." She looked first at me, then at Kowalski—"Tajax.

" "I'm coming now, and Mr. Kowalski was just leaving...

" "Yes, yes." The man eagerly shuffled to the door

. I felt strange seeing him out. When I shook his hand, I felt as if I was saying goodbye to several million people at once.

"Oh! I almost forgot," Kowalski turned around and grabbed my hand. "Please take this. This is the voice of all of us! And please, make sure the client is satisfied and the agency is safe, and that a man like me is served something more than just gnawed bones..." Jan Kowalski said, pressing a crumpled petition into my hand—a plea from hungry advertisers...