Playing Host

When my company decided to send me to represent the company in an exhibition, I intuitively realized that I was going to embarrass myself in a way that I'd remember for long. My left eye started twitching as it does whenever my existence is threatened. What my employers dint know was that I suffered from acute stage fright. And that I was Xenophobic.

The roster sheet announced that I’d play ‘host’ on Monday and Tuesday. The parasite that I’ve been all my life, I found it pretty amusing.

All was well until the first visitor came, no, until he spoke. He had been quietly going through the display for sometime. And then he asked. His question seemed to be well rehearsed. Must have practiced it inside.

There were at least eight different directions in which I could have run.

Obviously I was baffled. But I just smiled; just smiled, with the trademark innocent Joe’s look as accompaniment. The astute visitor soon realized that I had nothing to offer other than my winsome smile. But he was mistaken. I gave him the Brochures; and the mint box. He deserved it.

For all that I had to go through, it was worth it. I got a red tie with the company logo on it for going.