I've been at Woot for almost six months now, but I'm still the "new guy" on the writing team. I field a lot of questions from family and friends like, "What's it like to work at Woot?" I don't like to toot my own horn, but it's a fast-paced, ultra-glamorous lifestyle being a copywriter, and Woot hires only the cream of the crop. It can be a heady experience navigating the expense account dinners high-profile clients and cocktails with the movers and shakers of the deal-a-day industry. Here's what an average day as a Woot Writer looks like:
Saunter into my office on the 20th floor of a Madison Avenue high rise, hair perfectly-styled and suit perfectly-tailored. My secretary informs me that Matt Rutledge, our CEO, is waiting for me.
10:32 am - 11:00 am
I fix myself a tall whiskey and offer Matt a cigarette as I light one myself. We discuss the previous night's dinner with clients and I regale him with enough hints at my exploits with the powder room attendant without seeming crude. Gotta play it close to the vest, after all. He assures me I am doing a fine job and hint that maybe I should sign an exclusive contract to remain at Woot for the next three years. I politely rebuff his entreaties.
(More after the jump)
11:01 am - 11:30 am
Drinks. I ask my secretary to hold all my calls and get me another bottle of The Glenlivet.
I wake with a start. I was dreaming of my abusive farmhand father criticizing me for not doing an honest, hard job like he did. Luckily Jason Toon knocks at my door to discuss the new Sansa account. I offer him a Lucky Strike and a bourbon, neat. He invites me to a party he's hosting at the country club this weekend; I tell him my wife and I will be there to make an impression, even though our relationship is strained by her mistrust of my freewheeling infidelity.
12:30 pm - 2:00 pm
Lunch. I meet executives from Roomba at the Waldorf Astoria. As we smoke and enjoy martinis I assure them that we can generate definite growth if we simply expand their focus to include Woot-Offs. I dazzle them with a wistful bit of wisdom that seems to relate to their concerns but is actually my own realization of how to address a conflict in my own mysterious personal life. Also, we eat salads with raw eggs on them.
All that working has got me beat. I pour myself a tall gin and tonic and lie down on the sofa in my office. I tell my secretary to hold all my calls and drift into a restless (read: drunken) slumber.
I meet with the rest of the writing staff to go over the next day's writeups. As Matthew pours us each a tall Old Fashioned with rye and Pilot cleans his pipe thoughtfully, we debate how best to convey the freedom, social mobility, and decadence of owning a Hannah Montana mp3 player. Things get awkward when Scott breaks out his "jazz cigarettes."
4:15 pm - 5:00 pm
As the day winds down I realize I need to take a little time for myself. After all, it can't be all work all day, right? I unwind with a cigarette and a highball in my office before taking off for the day.
A full day behind me, I take the elevator down to the street to catch the next train home. In the elevator I offer some cryptic-yet-sage advice to one of my co-workers addressing some tumultuous event in their life that I'm not really aware of but has been explained in an ancillary manner while I was passed out on my couch.
I run into a seductive woman who happens to be a client of mine and heiress to the tri-headed flashlight fortune. I scrap my plans for heading home and take her to dinner and drinks. As we dine on steak and lobster while sipping straight vermouth (because at this point, anything to mix up the pace is welcome) I succumb to her feminine wiles and follow her back to her hotel room.
I stumble home, bleary-eyed and reeking of booze and cigarettes, which is not really unusual. My wife confronts me about where I've been and I tell her to stop being such a woman. As I fall asleep, I wonder if there are men out there who don't have such a terrible lot in life.