Ooo Miss Jones - part 2

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

I look up....frozen.... for what seems like, well, 20 minutes

The hall instantly falls stony silent

Drat I forgot to pack my lucky pants

72 hours pass.....I think...

The hall erupts into raptuous laughter

I am completely fazed and can't think what to do or say, other than my colleagues are probably slumping in their seats in the balcony in total shame making sure they can remember every little detail to recount to my boss just before he fires me.

'As you can see, I'm not really a professional orater .........'

Not a ripple

I manage to gather myself together, well of a fashion, and ramble a few sentences, making sure I get the company name in 4 times in 4 sentences.

I launch into a 'and without further ado let me welcome on stage, Sir Robin Knox Johnstone and Libby Purves'

The crowd erupt once more, this time with applause.

I smile as I turn stage right and sweepingly gesture toward the oncoming guests and back out of stage left, remembering the cables on the floor.

Should it actually be stage left when I'm on the stage? It becomes my stage right if I'm facing an audience. Just a thought....

I rush under the belly of the hall to come out the other end so I can sit in the balcony seats with my colleagues. I settle down and almost fall asleep listening to Sir Robin and Libby. Must be the stress.....

I'm suddenly poked on the shoulder by assistant 2.

Could I please come with her. It's an emergency.

Oh no. what on earth can it be? We've run out of wine? The Parma ham wrapped around the asparagus spears has hardened? Someone has eaten some of Libby's grapes in the VIP fruit bowl?

'Come this way please'

I'm led through basement tunnels.

'What's the emergency?'

'Can you just remember to thank them before you announce Sir Robin will be in the foyer?'

'I beg your pardon?'

Noooo surely not......

'To sign his book?'

I stand there, frozen, like a rabbit caught in headlights.

'I'll give you the signal when to go on stage and wrap it up'

W H A T????

I follow meekly and stand, once again, stage left.

I wait, once again, for the signal.

It isn't forthcoming

Right, that's it. Time to wrap this nonsense up.

I walk onto the stage and stop at the lecturn.

I look at Sir Robin at Libby. Sir Robin comes to the end of a sentence

'On behalf of RAC I'd like to welcome......(oh shit here I go again...) and thank you Sir Robin for sharing your views and experiences here tonight'

'We are delighted that Sir Robin will be signing copies of his latest book in the foyer, as indeed will Libby Perv....Purves'

I clap and the hall follows suit as I woosh the notable guests off the stage. I wonder, just for a fleeting second, if this is like a stage play. Do they take a bow? Do they return after a suitable pause for a bow?

Too late. I have gently ushered, well maybe ever so gently pushed the guests off via stage left into the arms of fawning assistants 1 & 2.

I am in need of a very long cool alcoholic drink!

We are all ushered from backstage into the foyer where the professionals take up their positions of fame and fortune behind a miniscual school like desk. I walk the other way searching for Tessa, my colleague.

I see Tessa coming towards me...grinning.

'I didn't know Libby Purves had a double barrelled name.......???'



And there's more.........