Karma

The boat is swaying left and right, and I can feel nausea creeping up my throat. I lean over the edge of this large boat and empty my stomach into the waters of Georgian Bay. Dizzy from the motion, I almost slip over the aluminum railing, but hands grab my waist and pull me back from the brink. 

            I can’t walk straight and need to get off this boat, but all I see are miles of water in every direction. I yell at the person driving the boat to slow down, and when he turns, I see my boss’s face. What the hell am I doin’ here? I hate boats.

He waves with a huge smile, loving the thrill of speed on the water. Someone gets me to lie down; big mistake, and I feel like I’m going to be sick again. I hang my head over the edge, but my stomach is empty. I can smell the vile taste in my mouth.

I recognize Janice; we work together, and I remember our boss taking us on a summer trip on his new boat. I look at Janice, and she is wearing a tiny bikini and holding a beer can. Her long hair flows in the wind, and she laughs at me because I look like a green monster. I don’t like her because she wants my job.

A sudden jolt rocks the boat, and my boss yells some foul language. He wears a silly captain’s cap that flies away in the wind. The boat slows abruptly, rolling left and right. Armand, another co-worker, throws me a life vest. Why do I need this? It won’t make me feel any better.

The boat starts tipping, and water pours over the edge; my feet are wet. People yell as the boat takes on water. “Jump,” someone yells, but I can’t. I don’t know how to swim. Large hands grab me around my waist. I see it’s my boss, and he throws me overboard.

The water is cold, and I shiver, my arms flailing side to side to stay afloat. The life jacket helps, but waves spill water into my mouth. Janice is beside me, floating on her back, still laughing.

The sun burns into my eyes, and I can’t see anything around me. I hear soft chimes near my head; is this heaven? I gasp and turn my head to see the sun shining through my bedroom window, then grab my phone and turn off the alarm.

My pyjama top is soaking wet, and I shiver, shaken by my scary dream of water and that damn boat. Time to go to work.

Tapcott Advertising is one of Toronto’s top agencies, with an impressive roster of blue-chip clients. It’s a dog-eat-dog workplace, and the boss expects you to do whatever the client wants. The office is full of people working weekends, and the boss invites me to two or three client dinners every week. Attendance is mandatory.

My office door is ajar, and Janice pops her head in. She is my Assistant Art Director and makes no secret of the fact that her work has won awards for the agency.

“Alexandra, I finished the layout for the Molson print ad. Did you see it?” Asked Janice.

“Yes, I have it right here. I think the model selection needs more work. You show two guys when we should be attracting female consumers. Please replace the image with a man and a woman,” I said.

“That’s not what the boss wants. He told me to use two guys,” said Janice.

I’m dumbfounded. How did my assistant show this ad layout to my boss without me knowing? The bitch is trying to cut me out. Good luck with that. I’ve been here since the beginning and helped make this agency a lot of money. The boss wouldn’t risk pissing me off.

“Janice, make the change to the models that I requested and bring it back to me. I will then go and talk with the boss.”

Later that day, I take the new layout to the boss, and he looks at it and frowns. He’s quiet for a few minutes, and I wait in the silence.

“Alexandra, I think Molson beer is for men. I told Janice to only show male models. Why is this print ad with a man and a woman?

“Because the brand needs to expand its consumer base,” I replied. I know this because the VP of Marketing at Molson is my neighbour, and we have spent quite a few nights hanging out in my backyard.

“I think you have lost your edge. You have been doing this ad work for a long time, and I’ve noticed that you aren’t putting in as much time in the office anymore. By the way, you look a little green in the face; what’s up?”

God, how could he know about my dream about his sinking boat? “Had a long night, that’s all.”

“I know Janice has done a lot of the recent work. She’s got a lot of talent,” said the boss.

“Yes, Janice has potential, but she doesn’t have the client relationships. You know that that is my strong suit,” I replied.

“Well, that’s not enough. I want you to put in more time to come up with better ad ideas, or we are going to have a long talk about your future here at Tapcott Advertising. You know advertising is a young person’s business,” said the boss.

“Yes, we were all young once. I started with your Dad; it was just three of us. You took over when he retired, and frankly, our ads have become less creative under your watch. All you focus on is how many hours staff are in the office. Time doesn’t equal great ideas. People need more balance in their lives.”

“Well, you are right. I am the boss and will own this agency when my Dad dies. There are so many eager people to take your job; maybe you should call it a day,” he said.

That conversation ended my time at Tapcott, but I had no intention of retiring.

Several weeks later, the boss opened the trade magazine, The Canadian Advertiser, and read the headline in shock.

“Molson Brewing Hires New Ad Agency.” The article explained that Molson needed fresh ideas to build its business and viewed the female segment as a prime opportunity. With that in mind, Molson hired the new agency Copeland Communications, led by legendary ad executive Alexandra Copeland.

The boss threw the magazine onto his desk as his phone rang. “Yes?”

“This is your father. What have you done? You have lost our best and longest-serving client.”

“Dad, Alexandra pulled a fast one. I offered to promote her and give her more money, but she said she wanted to have a better work-life balance, so she left.”

“That’s crap. I know what really happened. You’re a little prick to everyone at Tapcott, so I am relieving you of your CEO job. Pack up your stuff and leave.”

“Dad, wait, I’m just trying to make as much money as possible for me and you in your retirement.”

“Funny you say that because I am really too young to be retired, so I am coming back to work as the new CEO of Tapcott Advertising.”