I recently spent a week in a small city I never imagined I would visit. Fate took me to this beautiful place for a press check. I was supposed to be there overnight and ended up staying for six days. Talk about under-packing!
More important than the fact that Armin had to FedEx clothes to me to avoid utter embarrassment on my part, is the fact of why I ended up there. Unfortunately I can’t reveal the client or the project but hopefully my anecdote can give you enough of an idea to prove my case on this one.
It all started one sunny morning when we landed a new account, and we were to start with a large project, somewhat similar to an in-the-mail-catalog. We had three printers bid for the assignment, paper was put on hold, the works. Our client started to avoid the subject of printing and we got nervous — they were talking to their printer. Although we never saw an estimate from this printer to prove that our numbers were out of league, we were finally informed of who the printer was ten days before press day. We are to talk to the production guy who works for our client with any questions, and he will be the one to deal and communicate with the printer. Not us. Crystal clear. As you can image we were near panic, profane words slamming into each other, curses were more common than coffee and it was normal to see bodies shaking uncontrollably in the hallways. OK, maybe I am exaggerating the situation, but it sure felt like I had finally gone to hell.
We had a big conference call with all the parties involved, talked schedule, planned for press dates, and then a grenade of sorts was thrown in the room and stared at me from the Polycom, waiting silently for my reaction. A special legal department had to review the files before being released, and the file requirements were: Quark 3.0.2, Illustrator 6.0, Photoshop 5.0. As soon as some blood made it back to my brain, and I managed to avoid hyper-ventilation, we got to it. We had no option. It had to be.
Finally I find myself on a Sunday afternoon on my way to the much anticipated press check for the project from hell (although I do like the creative!). We meet (me and my co-worker) with the client representatives and the printer at 9:30pm on Sunday in the hotel lobby. We are eight people. One more is coming tomorrow. Proofs are placed on the table. I start talking with the printer for the first time (about all my issues, concerns, questions, while the clients are distracted with the final proofs), and discover, even though I should not be surprised at this point, that we will be printing on half a web press. Did you even know they existed? I wanted to believe this was a joke, but soon realized I was in for a reality-checking week.
The rest of the printing process went by as expected, a few bumps, a few bruises, many smiles, wary people, lots of entertaining, dinning and more dinning, recurring conversations and finally a finishing toast. As I boarded my flight back almost a month after the real nightmare began, I could not help but think, what did I do to deserve this? Not only do I have a printing related horror story, I also have a file delivery nightmare my grandchildren will hear about, I also have a very jealous client that doesn’t want me talking printing with his selected printer, I have them all in one nicely packed, multiple representative, outdated single client!
Now you need a tattoo, like 'The Fightin' Quark 3.0s' or something, to show your grandkids. Or perhaps a papercut scar from the press: "I nearly lost my arm, but the job got done."
In your place, I would've self-destructed.
On Sep.13.2004 at 08:28 AM