The Private Diary of Rayne Maker: "Sex Sells"

Monday

Spend the day getting a detailed briefing from our Tulip-Walter colleagues about our new client, a Finnish group that makes rigid plastic containers. TW's ad campaigns for Finnbox over the years have basically involved draping women in bikinis over what look like giant Legos. Didn't realize this sort of smut was still allowed, although that healthy Scandinavian look is certainly easy on the eye. Big kickoff meeting at Tulip HQ later this week.

Drinks with Heide Vertig, who didn't fit in at BCG and now sees Armadillo as viable again, since we've been acquired. (Avoid telling her we were valued at a buck.) Heide seems to have added that HBS veneer of self-confidence to her previous skill-set as a top-notch analyst. Tell her, truthfully, she could go far with us. Hint that Tulip stock options look quite promising. Play up trips to Amsterdam. She agrees to mull things over. I ask if she's still in touch with John Bonanza but she just rolls her eyes, calls it "an episode best forgotten." My thoughts exactly.

Tuesday

Final Fang preez at Doctor & Handle. Goes poorly, given that we just don't see eyetooth to eyetooth on the evolution of the false-teeth fixative market. We see an age wave opportunity to become a monster brand that owns the "wrinkly" aisle. They want to piddle around with package sizing, scared to try anything that might jeopardize this year's numbers and hence bonuses. Not on the same page. Common problem. Entire team upgrades on the flight back to Logan, much easier to do these days.

Wednesday

KLM red-eye to Amsterdam. Me and Ken, just like the early days, goofing about and teasing the flight attendants, drinking like college freshmen, playing video games in the seat-back. (Ken is so ultra competitive, even at Pac-man — is this what has driven him all these years?) Spend the morning recovering at a downtown hotel and then it's our first visit to Tulip Tower. Impressively massive. More visual evidence in the lobby that our new parent has made its living in the ad world by relentlessly promoting sleazy, cheesecake ad campaigns, whatever the product. Armadillo is now Tulip's nose-cone, so they say. Nose-cone to what, though?

Late-night bonding session with our new colleagues. They take us to a "Gentlemen's" club. Quite shocking.

Thursday

Brainstorming day for Finnbox. Ken and I sit quietly for an hour while the Tulip team waxes lyrical about how plastic surfaces can be smooth and sexy and desirable. Eventually I can restrain no longer my old thermoplastics knowledge from Du Rite. What about physical properties? Physical, someone smirks? Yes, notched izod impact strength, brittleness, cold weather durability, U-V resistance — surely this is what sells plastic boxes into industry. There's a lengthy pause. It is suddenly clear that we are looking at the same thing but through very different prisms. Evening: another "Gentleman's" extravaganza. Dances with snakes. Call home to grumble but little sympathy.

Friday

Hello again to our serious friends from Finland. Hard-working morning spent reviewing marketing campaign alternatives. Boils down to whether you prefer blondes or brunettes. Lunch is highly alcoholic. Armadillo has the afternoon slot and Ken and I will try our best, but needs-based segmentation and strategic choice analysis simply can't compete with vodka shots. Wake them all up at five and adjourn to … you guessed it, another Gentlemen's Club.

Catch up drunkenly on e-mail: Heide wants in. But should I tell her? Good old Armadillo is no longer your father's Oldsmobile, if that makes any sense.

Saturday

Ken and I fly home in sober mood. I ask him if it's what he expected, or if  he's disappointed. The big prickly one eyes me over his seltzer water. Look, Rayne, he says. I'm 47. I've been through some battles. If some turkeys want to pay me to sit through upscale smut for a few weeks, I'll take it. Can you honestly say you preferred saliva viscosity in false teeth? Honestly? He has a point, as usual.