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Marketing gimmicks are one of those things I live with - free sweatshirts (I spend most of my life in one that says Raw Evil to the endless amusment of my sweetie), pens that light up in the dark, handy torches for my key chain, occasional free trips on boats and the like. And parties - I still sometimes get to go to parties...
Just before Valentine's, I got a card, marked, just in case there was any doubt, not to be opened until Valentine's. So on Valentine's, I and aforesaid sweetie opened it. Sleep With Me it said on the front, but spelled my name wrong on the envelope and the card - aha! my sweetie said, it's one of those little girls in a publicity office who are always getting your name wrong. Which I sort of went along with, because anyone I'd want to get a Valentine from knows that I spell my name with a Z, 'coz Roz with an s goes neaah... And was the name of a dear dead friend with whom I would not want to be confused, because that is a whole other story.
For a few moments, I had experienced the complication of unfocussed lust for someone that was bizarre enough to fancy me from afar, and then realism set in, alas! Some kind of gag or gimmick, we figured.
And indeed so, because a couple of days ago I got a press release - for which I had to queue at the sorting office because they had forgotten to put a stamp on it - for a novel by Joanne Briscoe called Sleep With Me. In case there were any doubt, the type face is exactly the same.
What makes it sort of worse is that it is a pretty good book, about the destructive power of love and jealousy, which I am going to review. I am so virtuous about not being irritated by the idiotic.
Here's the thing, though. Lots of people will have received this, and some of them will have been in couples, and some of them will have been serial adulterers whose beloveds have good cause to be suspicious of them. Random sexy Valentines are loaded guns in such circumstances, however good a gimmick.
And during my few moments, I almost rang up X, with whom I have history, and is almost capable of mispelling my name through idiocy, or Y, who is on the rebound from a messy relationship and has a longstanding torch for me, not entirely unreciprocated.
It's one of those things people shouldn't find in their mail - like the card that says Fly At Once, All Is Known. Because how many of us wouldn't be terribly worried by that one...
They always say that no-one would oppose ID cards unless they have something to hide - well that's kind of a big unless.
Just before Valentine's, I got a card, marked, just in case there was any doubt, not to be opened until Valentine's. So on Valentine's, I and aforesaid sweetie opened it. Sleep With Me it said on the front, but spelled my name wrong on the envelope and the card - aha! my sweetie said, it's one of those little girls in a publicity office who are always getting your name wrong. Which I sort of went along with, because anyone I'd want to get a Valentine from knows that I spell my name with a Z, 'coz Roz with an s goes neaah... And was the name of a dear dead friend with whom I would not want to be confused, because that is a whole other story.
For a few moments, I had experienced the complication of unfocussed lust for someone that was bizarre enough to fancy me from afar, and then realism set in, alas! Some kind of gag or gimmick, we figured.
And indeed so, because a couple of days ago I got a press release - for which I had to queue at the sorting office because they had forgotten to put a stamp on it - for a novel by Joanne Briscoe called Sleep With Me. In case there were any doubt, the type face is exactly the same.
What makes it sort of worse is that it is a pretty good book, about the destructive power of love and jealousy, which I am going to review. I am so virtuous about not being irritated by the idiotic.
Here's the thing, though. Lots of people will have received this, and some of them will have been in couples, and some of them will have been serial adulterers whose beloveds have good cause to be suspicious of them. Random sexy Valentines are loaded guns in such circumstances, however good a gimmick.
And during my few moments, I almost rang up X, with whom I have history, and is almost capable of mispelling my name through idiocy, or Y, who is on the rebound from a messy relationship and has a longstanding torch for me, not entirely unreciprocated.
It's one of those things people shouldn't find in their mail - like the card that says Fly At Once, All Is Known. Because how many of us wouldn't be terribly worried by that one...
They always say that no-one would oppose ID cards unless they have something to hide - well that's kind of a big unless.
