Spilt Milk

As my friend and fellow blogger George Tannenbaum will attest, you don't compile thousands and thousands of daily entries and millions of words written in digital ink without indulging a sense of curiosity. 

Stories just don't pop out of the blue with the regularity of a Trump farcical "truth."

You gotta do a little digging. Turn over a stone or two. And sniff out opportunity. A longwinded way of saying I like to indulge in some casual non-committed job seeking. That is, when I get an alert from LinkedIn that so and so is on the hunt for a Copywriter, I like to bait the field with some premium doe urine, just to see if they'll pick up the scent.

BTW, back in the early hurly burly days of my copywriting career I actually wrote ads for doe urine as well as other accoutrements of today's modern hunter. It was quite an eye, and nostril, opening experience.

Recently I saw a job alert from the good people at Oatly. 

I'm an old school guy and like my milk straight from the teat of a Heffer or a Guernsey or a Dairy Shorthorn. But I appreciate the Oatly folks and their often humorous brand tone. And I thought, why not, I'll throw my artificial farmer's hat in the ring.

Moments after hitting the send button, I got a response. I've carefully cropped the email so as not to include the sender's name.

In an age of rampant ghosting, I was taken aback. And responded in kind.

Days later I received another missive. This one let me know just how dreadful and desperate the copywriting employment situation had become.

Close to one thousand applicants!

That's when it also dawned on me that I hadn't been corresponding with a live person (Sophie) but an AI generated bot, who despite her best efforts, could never brighten the day of a real copywriter seeking real copywriting employment.

1000 Applicants!

Looks like there'll be no company car for Richie.