The singular you

The summer lines went up this week. Escape this summer. Your table is waiting. Book your stay.

English has one word for you, and it will not say how many people are in the room. The language most of this market thinks in marks that difference, and the plural is not a courtesy there, it is the ordinary way to address a household. So a line poured out of a template written somewhere with colder Junes arrives here having quietly decided that the reader is on their own.

They are not. Almost every purchase this season is plural. A table for nine at eleven at night. A chalet taken by three households who settled it in a single conversation. A hotel day booked because the grandmother will come, and a flight where one person holds the card and eleven people travel.

Which means the person reading the message is not the decision. They are the one who has to raise it.

Their job is to propose, and a proposal has to survive a group in which one voice objects on price, one on the distance, and one on the hour. The reader is not working out whether they want it. They are working out whether they can put it to the others without spending ten minutes defending it.

So the line has to answer the objection the proposer will meet, not the one the reader has. Give the price in full. Give the hour. Say what happens with the children, and whether there is somewhere a grandmother can sit.

The copy that fails here is rarely the copy nobody believes.

It is the copy nobody can repeat.