A Copywriter Dies ...

"You OK?"

"I guess."

I was on the phone with Greg, a copywriter who had just left the ad agency where he had worked for the past 7 years.

"Why'd you leave?"

"Had a disagreement with the management."

"What was the disagreement?" I asked.

"I thought I should continue working there ... they disagreed."

"Ugh. What was the problem?"

"They had a number of reasons, but I think I was too old and making too big a paycheck."

"That sucks."

"Yep ... but all I can think about is this old joke:

A copywriter dies, and Saint Peter offers him a choice of Heaven or Hell. 

The writer asks to see both. 

Leading him to a doorway, Saint Peter says, 'In Hell, there's a room just for copywriters.'

Inside, the writer sees row upon row of faceless people, all scribbling frantically as huge winged demons lay into them with heavy whips. 'The meeting's in five minutes! The meeting's in five minutes!' the demons scream. 

'Uh ... better show me Heaven,' the writer says. 

'In Heaven, there's also a room for copywriters,' Saint Peter says, indicating a different door. 

Peering into the second room, the writer again sees row upon row of faceless people, all scribbling frantically as huge winged demons lay into them with heavy whips. 'The meeting's in five minutes! The meeting's in five minutes!' the demons scream. 

The copywriter protests, 'But I thought you said this was Heaven!' 

St. Peter says, 'Well, here the work gets produced.'"

"Funny," I said.

"Sort of. I think I might've just gotten released from Hell."

__________________________

Postscript

"I'll credit you when I post this."

"Nah. I just got bounced from my job and don't need any sympathy outreach right now. Credit Greg."

"Who's Greg?"

"Funniest kid in my second grade class. Could burp the alphabet."

"Sure I can't just credit you?"

"Greg."

 "OK. Greg it is."