The Private Diary of Rayne Maker: "Sticky Business"

Monday

Am enjoying my newest client, a division of Doctor & Handle that makes false teeth fixative. Code name Fang. Probably just the sweet afterglow of winning the job (over Accenture, for once!), since the subject matter is, well, icky. I'm even tolerating Alain Protecteur, the formerly pungent French research analyst who has glommed onto me even though he despises me, too. Must be that love-hate thing the French have about America.

Make quick day-trip to D&H's campus to interview Fang's CEO while AP gathers market share data. Mr. Fang proudly informs me that he's not just a loyal employee, but also a loyal client. Gives me a demonstration of the key issue in installing and removing a set of false teeth right there at his desk. Barf alert. Apparently the wearer doesn't want to feel like he can never pry the things from his jaw (adhesive too strong), but equally alarming is the possibility of them popping out embedded in his lunchtime ham-and-cheese. When Mr. Fang attempts to say "it's all about saliva viscosity" using only his gums, I come as close to losing control as ever in my decade of consulting. Beam me up, Scotty.

Minor glitch back at La Guardia airport when Hertz attempts to arrest me for nonpayment of my $1,200 bill for damaging a previous vehicle without CDW. Not my fault, credit card's supposed to cover it. Awkward standoff until a Visa service rep agrees to investigate. Spend the shuttle flight home bending my Hertz card until it goes white and snaps in two.

Tuesday

Letter from novice monk Bonanza inviting me to visit him at the Self Enlightenment and Love Fellowship open day next month. Wants to thank me for my enthusiastic letter of recommendation to SELF. Can't resist replying "yes": It'll be like seeing someone in prison, safely locked out of my life.

Wednesday

Fang team meeting. Alain reviews the market share trajectories. We're losing ground to store brands and among younger customers (i.e., 45–55 boomers). Newbie Pippa Pecker, who invited herself to my meeting since she thinks this is all about branding (no, it's all about saliva viscosity, Pippa), bangs on about the personality of Tru-Grip, our client's flagship glue. For Pippa, it's a question of emphasizing trust and security, like a bank project she just did. I hate it when people use specious parallels because it's the last thing they worked on. I also hate people with hammers who see only nails. I also hate people with ridiculous names who use them for their own branding. Hear her out politely and then get Alain to hire a bio lab to do some tests. My hypothesis: We've always pitched strength, but maybe saliva has gradually thinned somehow and we now have too many ham-and-cheese scenarios. Need to think through segmentation too, obviously.

Thursday

Resolve to stop grinding teeth. Resolve to make dentist appointment. Way overdue. Buy floss on way home.

Friday

Visa calls to explain they don't offer primary protection and I had better call my auto insurance. In mad fit of rage, sit there folding my Titanium Visa (2% cash back) back and forth. Spend afternoon inventing possible segmentation schemes for false teeth wearers — "Popcorn in the Barcalounger," "Active Love-Lives" — but suspect I'm spinning my wheels.

Pippa Pecker drops off a brand personality preez for my weekend reading. She's actually wearing one of her "Pecker" tee-shirts, and while it may be Friday and we may have a casual dress code now, I think she's over the line …

Impulsively call home and offer to pick up steaks and cook dinner. "Give you a well-earned break, dear." Happy glow of work-life balance as I zip through the Cambridge traffic. Load up on big T-bones, fixin's, and a pricey Bordeaux. Wait at checkout smiling at the memory of George Bush senior being amazed at card swiping. Reach for mine and find the two snapped halves. No cash. Mobile call home for emergency financial bailout mercy mission. Murmuring discontent in the grocery line behind. Where is she? Why isn't she picking up? Why is this happening to me?