Ad agencies are inherently loud places.
Even before open space floor plans – don’t get me started- hallways would be filled with people yelling from one office to the other.
You'd hear self-congratulatory chuckles of creative teams laughing at their own ideas.
Heels tapping along polished cement floors, while people walked fast and conversed like they were on The West Wing.
And of course, the ever present click clack of computer keys, followed by the jet engine roar of the printer firing up and spitting out copies of resumes…er…creative briefs.
There’s an unmistakable rhythm, hum and drone to the daily pace of an agency. Which is why it’s so eerie when an agency goes quiet.
Sometimes it’s a convergence of several things. People have left or been let go and have yet to be replaced. Others are out on production. Art directors are out on press checks. Copywriters are working (on our lattes) at Starbucks. People are behind closed doors in meetings.
The end result is an unsettling, yet welcome quiet. You can almost hear the tumbleweeds a blowin’ down the hallway and smell the honeysuckle.
Anyway, as sure as the the ebb and flo of the tide, the noise eventually returns to quiet agencies like swallows to Capistrano.
Loud, egotistical, long-lunching, knit-cap wearing, ironic-tshirt sporting, complaining swallows.
