Secrets of Desire
We were in the big conference room, whiteboards covered in notes, laptops open, takeout containers scattered across the table.
We’d been going back and forth for an hour about the closing line of the TV spot.
“It’s too much,” I said for the third time, leaning back in my chair. “It’s going to come off desperate.”
“It’s supposed to feel desperate,” he shot back, not looking up from his screen. “That’s the point. Desire isn’t polite.”
“Desire also isn’t alienating half the audience.”
He finally looked at me, eyes tired but sharp. “You think sex sells by being polite?”
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