Brigitte Jones - part 1

Hmmm, I have been somewhat laxi...mmm, let's try that word again. Somewhat laxadazic...no that's not right. Laxidazical, lacadazicle, lackadasic. Good grief! I can't remember how to effing well spell the beeping word.

Okay. So....I have been somewhat sloppy in writing regular posts on my Blog recently and I realise I must improve, I must improve, I must improve my bust. Oooh, no that's wrong. I must improve my efforts on the Blogsphere

Just before I tell you part 2 of The Vacation, I thought I'd share my work trip last week. My colleague, Tessa, and I flew to Leeds (hardly glamorous!) to attend a sponsor evening at the Ilkley Literature Festival. I had decided on a sugar rush of Mars bar and flapjacks that I would sponsor half of the 2 week literature festival in the town we are soon to be launching a new product in. At a number of venues across the town key authors would be plugging their books through an interview on a stage. Sir Robin something-something was to be interviewed by Libby Purves (pronounced Purvis)about his life as a sailor, or adventurer, or maybe both.

Checking into the hotel after a day of meetings I relished the chance of an hours nap before showering, slapping on a load of make up to assist the Corporate smile I would need to wear during the evening, particularly during the meet and greet section of notable personages and dignatories whilst they shovelled canapes and buckets of wine that I had paid for, knowing full well they were only there for the freebies.

Oh dearie me, I love my job really......honest. I do!

Half an hour into my nap the phone rings:

'We'd be so pleased if you would agree'

'Well...do you really need me...'

'But we hardly ever get women to accept'

I'm almost sold.....

'I haven't prepared anything to say'

'Oh don't wory I have something prepared'

hmm that's a bit cart before the horse.....

'I'll give it to you at your Sponsors reception'

'But I don't really think....'

'You'll be fine, I can't wait to see them...'

'It's just that I'm not really a public speaker...'

'Libby is F A N T A S T I C...'

'I really really....'

'Oh it's going to be wonderful, we have at least 500 prebooked'

aaaah, that's supposed to help my nerves????

'I'll get someone to find you and you can stand by the lecturn...'

silence

'Your Company will get an opportunity to tell so many people all about itself'

'Right, yes, yes naturally I'll do it, yes of course'

I slump onto the bed, knowing I have no more time to relax and throw myself into the shower and begin to practice a few sentences in the hope of mastering public oration worthy of an Oscar in 5 minutes.

As I practice in front of the mirror whilst applying my make up I find I am compelled to call the Literature Festival the Ilkley Furniture Festival. This is not good.

Tessa knocks on my door and promptly falls on the bed in hysterical laughter as she listens to my tongue tied ramblings

Oh this is going soooo well.....

I try to be serious and start again

'Isn't it Libby Perves?'

'Is it???'

'Well it might be'

'Well, that's now in my head!'

'Come on we don't want to be late.'

We rush down the hill, in the rain and drizzle, and I worry about my new suede Stuart Weitzman shoes.....

After trying to make sure I get round all the people attending our Sponsors reception....and trying hard to smile as a very large and very loud local something or another crams canape after canape into his expanding mouth, I meekly follow a young assistant to 'stage left' and wait til I'm given the signal to walk on stage to announce Libby Whatsit and Sir Robin Whoever.

The assistant no 2 on stage right is making strange hand gestures. I wonder if any of them are the signal that means I am to walk on stage. I now feel mildly irritated and decide to walk out and face the crowds, they're professionals so I decide they can cope.

I concentrate on the cables that are lying across stage left, I can't face tumbling over and exposing all my inadequacies in front of 500 people. I get over the cables and grip the sides of the lecturn.

I look up.

Oooo boy, at least 4000 eyes stare back.

I look down at the lecturn and inhale

Not a script in sight

Oh goody....

I loosen my grip, just slightly, on the lecturn.

Heeeellllllp

'Good evening ladies and genteleman, on behalf of RAC we are delighted to be sponsoring a number of events at this years Furniture Festival..................'