CoMe and Gone

I’ve finally ended four weeks of just hectic, hectic stuff at work. I had been looking forward to this weekend for a month. There was nothing special planned but a little road trip with office folks, but just the idea of this weekend arriving and me not being totally whipped was a good one.

At this point, I don’t even remember what started the frantic pace, but we did have this kind of audit team a few weeks ago; maybe that was it. Then my supervisor got sick, which added to the chaos.

But the big thing was this past week. It was the office’s grand opening. Granted, the move to the new building from several different locations about town had been over the summer, but it took this long to get the VIP people in to do the whole ribbon-cutting dog-and-pony show.

I love dogs. I love ponies. I love shows. But dog-and-pony shows are just not my thing, but that’s my world from here on out.

Somehow, I volunteered to coordinate volunteers, which will look great on my evaluation but holy God, it stunk. But it turned out just fine, and, thanks to having the right person in charge of being the catering liaison, I got to spend Monday evening tasting the foods we’d serve on Wednesday.

Wednesday was The Day, and fortunately it went fairly all right. I did have a few takeaways, such as, if you’re planning a lunch for VIPs, make sure the lunch place will be open and able to deliver in time for your event.

Also, don’t prepare early. I learned this the hard way. We had all kinds of stuff in one room and the one before mine was done, I went in to set up mine. I had little name tags for the VIPs and arranged them in protocol order.

Then, when I went in right before the event was to start, I discovered the cleaning crew had thrown them all away. Just one panic attack.

I was also “X,” the person who taped down name tags where the 10 VIPs would stand on the balcony to cut the ribbon. I did this early because the room where the balcony came off of was booked that day and I didn’t want to interrupt.

But I learned that when there are clean sheets of paper taped to a balcony floor, people can’t help but step on them. Now, granted, the whole purpose of the sheets were to be stepped on, but you can’t display a white tag with a footprint for a Chinese VIP. It’s offensive.

So I had to get another copy and tape it down. I did so, trying really hard to sneak in and out of a room that had meetings, coffees and lunches going on.

And then, I had to do it AGAIN. And, God as my witness, just as I was finishing up on No. 10, I looked up and two of the biggest wigs had come out for a dry run and had stomped on them again.

At that point, I just waited until the event started, when they were down on the stage giving speeches. I went out and re-taped all 10 things, stopping to stand during the color guard and pausing during the moment of silence. But other than those two things, I hustled as fast as I could.

I was later told that I, as the lone person on the balcony as everyone else was eating those tasty snacks, had the media camera trained on me. Joy. One of the bosses pulled me aside and said I really should have done that earlier.

Gee, why hadn’t I thought of that. [/sarcasm off.] GRR!! I laid those suckers out FOUR TIMES. And it was for PR and good host relations – can’t have Chinese people be offended by footprints.

The US big wigs wouldn’t have cared less, honestly. And really, we had about as big as Guangzhou will have.

This post is a hidden gem and until we start to shine a little more, DC just doesn’t know about us. It took months to get a high-level visitor to open it, but boy, the one we did was awesome.

The person in the position known as “M” arrived – the director of management for the bureau. And as high on the totem pole as M is, he’s cool as can be.

The whole entourage (there were several other high-level people in, but the single-letter office is as big as it gets) did their tour of the office, and at our stop (and likely every one), M went around, shaking hands.

I was completely thrown off, because I had gotten caught outside of my workspace. I had run over to get some info from someone and the whole group came in as I was making my way back to my desk, which is right inside the main door. No way could I slink back unnoticed, so I stood pretty much as the first person in sight.

As a result, this man stuck his hand out and said, “Hi, I’m Pat Kennedy.”

Um…yes. I knew that. But I think of you as “M.” You displaced my world for a week and a half as I worked to coordinate volunteers, but more than that, six months ago, you swore me in. How can I not know you?

I was just totally thrown because I was trying to remember what the protocol was, like if I was supposed to introduce myself or what, but I don’t even remember what I did. I still have my job, so I suppose I did all right.

I ran into him and the group several other times during the two-day visit, and he was very nice and accommodating each time. At the second meeting, I told him he had sworn me in six months ago and I’d been sitting in the front row. He laughed and joked that he always remembered the redheads. Very human person – and man, so good at what he does.

However, going through after the week and a half prior, I must say that I was really happy to collect the ribbon-cutting scissors back from him (I wear many hats) and watch the whole group head down to the parking area and get in a car and head to the airport. Game over.

After all the planning, it was over without too much drama and, relatively speaking, with little fanfare. They came, they met, they left.

And then, at 4:45, I sat down at my desk, exhausted.

And I thought, “Wow, what do I do now?”