Standing up from the table, he puts on his too-big plaid jacket and sticks his pen back in his pocket. Scooping up his napkins from the table, he takes a look at one or two of them, the ones that have really decent ideas on them, and then shrugs and shoves them all into the pockets of his coat. He'll sort them out later tonight, when he's all alone. For now, he's committed to actually having a conversation and a drink with Ned. Social interaction? Who'd've thought he was capable of it?

"Yeah, I think about it. I mean, I write the text for the ads. Slogans, scripts, commercials, that kind of thing. I don't do the art direction. I wouldn't know how. You might have seen or heard some of my stuff. I did some slogans for Jaguar, when we still had that account, and I've done a couple for airlines. Mine're usually the really provocative ones, the stuff the companies initially think is too shocking to print."

And, admittedly, a lot of his ideas never get past his creative directors, because they are too provocative. He figures there's no harm in pushing the envelope, though. That's what creativity is all about. Following Ned out the door, he frowns a little at Ned's question. That's a hard one to answer.

"I guess. It's all I've ever done. I didn't choose advertising, advertising chose me, as trite and job-interviewy as that sounds. It's what I'm good at."