A bigwig camera brand recently launched a “lifestyle photography” series and approached an editor for permission to present a product showcase.
Eventually, the task falls upon me to find out which committee in the bull farm organises such a shindig.
Author’s note: bull farm refers to the company where I work, with reference to the word bullpen which in turn refers to our particular office where — you guessed it — partitions between cubicles are barely the height of full-grown bulls and everyone can hear you low.
And yes, the farm has various committees such as the green (environmentally friendly) committee, another that’s opposed to get us riled up for returning to work on Monday: the Thank-God-It’s-Monday committee… You get the idea.
Finally, it’s revealed the guilty party is an alleged Staff Discount Committee.
So I email dear L saying her client’s wishes for a showcase has been directed to the appropriate people and that they should be in touch with her asap.
Copious thank-yous peppered her reply and I thought I’d take the opportunity to milk the situation and perhaps score tickets to a fashion festival fronted by yet another bigwig brandname.
But in my hasty haze to hobnob with the likes of Dick Lee and Nicola Formichetti, I responded to her thank you-note by casually slipping in a My-Pleasure-Happy-XXXX-Fashion-Festival-Opening-Day, without actually asking for invitations outright! She replied duly in two minutes, “Happy XXXX Fashion Festival Opening Day to you too! We’re one of the sponsors, we’ll be there too.”
Argh! It would seem she thought I’d be attending too. Ah, the pitfalls of not proofreading emails before sending them out!
There’s always next year and who knows, the tables might turn and they shall be clamouring to put my name on the invited list.