The victim of the first big mistake I ever made was a gentleman to whom I had never been properly introduced (and whose name I still do not know) but who was possessed of three singular qualities: he was alone in a room with me, he was without his trousers, and he was very, very dead.
Some context might be useful. It was the winter of 1962. I was eighteen years old and had taken a year off before going up to Oxford University. I also had a girlfriend far away in Montreal, and in the superheated enthusiasm of my puppy love, I had promised to visit her. The fact that I then lived in London and she three thousand miles away meant that fare money had to be amassed: I had to get a job, and one that paid well enough to allow me to get away to Canada as quickly as possible.
Three students —- Tobia Haase, Jan Mettler, and Lydia Lohse—at the Film Academy in Ludwigsburg, Germany — shot a commercial, disavowed by Daimler Benz, exploring the idea of dramatically advancing Mercedes safety technology.
KANSAS CITY, MO
Unbeknownst to one another, every single member of the office staff at Kelleher Advertising Associates is planning to carry out a workplace shooting spree next Monday, reporters learned this week.
According to their independently formulated yet nearly identical plans, the company’s 38 employees will arrive at the office early on Jan. 14, each carrying a duffel bag containing an assault rifle, handguns, and several hundred rounds of ammunition. At precisely 9 a.m., as indicated in each of their individual plots, every member of the advertising agency’s staff will simultaneously produce their weapons and open fire on one another.
“No one is going to walk out of the office alive on Monday,” 30-year-old copywriter Benjamin Cowan told reporters privately, completely unaware that every person he works with on a daily basis was equally prepared to carve a similar path of carnage through the office at the exact same date and time.