My Life as an Exhibitionist

(Disclaimer: This is how I deal with my battle - I lie to myself that there's no battle. I only face the battle when I want to, so please humor me.)

I have a weird job scope. I have one direct boss, and one indirect boss. The direct boss needs no explanation; the indirect boss - hmmm... I am also not sure how it works. See, I deal with my indirect boss only for exhibitions, and only on the contract signing and correspondence with the exhibition organisers. All else on the exhibitions, I have other bosses to report to. Funny? Yeah.

Anyway, my indirect boss calls me 'The Exhibitionist'. The moment he called me that, I laughed. I had the image of me bikini-clad (red, mind you), with hyperhigh heels, holding placard asking people to drop by our booth. Hehehe... Kinky? Very.

During a conversation with an event manager one day, my indirect boss introduced me as 'The Exhibitionist'. The event manager laughed loud, and my indirect boss was impressed that the guy understood. Then the event manager said, 'Sir, I am the orgy-niser'.... HAHAHA... (Don't get it? Susah la cam ni...)

Anyway, life as an exhibitionist can be quite hectic. But fullfilling all the same. It's like doing PR, event-ly. I get to liaise with strangers who immediately become acquaintances, especially so if I meet them the next year at the same event. Some are now my regular lunch buddies; we've crossed the border of client-vendor and become plain friends.

The downside of being an exhibitionist is having to be around during build-up day. Build-up days equal tonnes of dust filling the exhibition hall, with no ventilation and usually very heaty (Malaysia maaa... Whatdaya expect?). I'd end up with oily face, berlengas satu badan and I usually suffer from post-exhibition zits. But trust me, the downside is actually the best part. You'll see booths turn from bare to colorful; from nothing to something. You see images on papers becoming real-life set-up.

The sad part is always the tear-down day. All the anguish, the anxiety, the arguments, the frustration, all gone with just one kick. I usually cry on tear-down day. Emo eh? Well, that's me - emo at unnecessary moments.

But that's life - my life. My life as an exhibitionist.