Corporate Communications

You can't make this up. We had our National Conference at work recently. I'm responsible for some of the content at this conference, so I'm sitting behind the scenes. So as a complete surprise to me, at the end of our CEO's presentation, he makes a surprise announcement of recognition for our group's volunteer efforts. He calls our VP, his admin and a couple other people up on stage--including me--to accept awards for our community involvement. So as I'm about to emerge on stage from the depths of backstage land, I notice in a gleaming instant of corporate etiquette awareness that the CEO and my VP are both jacketless, so I toss my navy blue blazer off my body like I'm about to dive into an Olympic-sized pool of department wide recognition--only the rest of my clothes stay on my body. I straighten my shirt, and head out on stage.

As our CEO hands me this fancy glass award, he says, with his lapel microphone transmitting to the audience "nice to see you." Instant corporate street cred. I'm pretty sure everyone in the audience was like "sure, VP and everyone else got awards, but JR--the CEO said it was good to see him--again." I could pretty much walk off that stage and demand that Olympic-pool-sized respect from anyone in the crowd. So I'm high as a kite, in the pride sense. I was also doing narcotics backstage with the crew, but I have such a tolerance now, those really had no effect on me. But as the CEO turns back to the podium to finish off the recognition, he stops himself and takes a sniff. Sure, you always think "oh no, he smells the Jack on my breath," like every time there's a pause in the convo with your boss. But when he turned around with a quizzical look in his face, I saw a flicker of orange in his glasses. I spun around just as the admin blurted out something about fire. My eagerness to submit to corporate etiquette had caused me to toss my blue blazer right on top of a backstage light, which had just enough heat to light it ablaze. I let out an expletive under my breath. Never swear in front the CEO, right? Well he lets out an audible curse over that lapel mic as I run back to stomp it out. I'm hoping the fire ate through enough of the material that it's unidentifiable by even the most skilled of striking CSI writers. I start stomping more furiously than that old man in Billy Madison. One of the crew members runs over with an extinguisher and sprays the entire area including my now singed pant cuffs and the medium-rare stage curtain.

Ok, seriously. the fire thing is all made up. I seriously can't keep making this up and still make it believable. It's like season 8 of your favorite sitcom. Some sharks were about to be jumped, big time. Everything else is real. Except for the narcotics. Then I found five dollars.