DIARY: I’m only a punter but...

Production company producers get on my nerves.

Production company producers get on my nerves.

You are destined to become a top producer if your parents called you

Tamara, they sent you to the University of East Anglia to study Fine Art

and you now live in Notting ‘where else, darling?’ Hill.

Despite the fact you’re pushing 30, you insist on clubbing and snorting

‘charlie’. In between, you manage to cram in something you call work.

Work consists of you arriving at the office at 11.00 and spending the

next two hours in the toilet stopping the nose-bleed. At 1.00 you’re

ready for lunch at the Groucho with your favourite director. You spend

the next three hours whining about ‘those wankers at such-and-such an

agency’. After the moan, you’re ready for home.

Every now and again you have to work ‘really, really hard’ - this is

called ‘a shoot’. This type of work involves standing around a set in

your day-glo puffa jacket, flicking your hair, agreeing with the

director and every now and again looking down your nose at the people

from the agency. Work can get even harder when you have to talk to the

‘horrid little client in the polyester suit’.

After a ‘really, really hard’ day you go home and write a whining piece

to Campaign about how those horrid agency people didn’t turn up to your


Take a look at yourself and ask why we should turn up after you’ve been

so snooty to us. After you’ve done that, ask yourself why tortilla chips

and salsa cost pounds 35 per head.

I look forward to going through that ransom demand you call a quote next

time, Tamara. Love you. Ciao.

Fancy a rant? Send your 300 words to the Diary Editor, 174 Hammer-smith

Road, London W6 7JP