THERE’S this awkward moment I remember. I wasn’t invited to a particular meeting at a hotel but since I’d be the only one left at the office, I asked the invitee if I could go with him. I did promise to stay outside of the function room where the meeting was going to be held, and I’d have my lunch at the hotel’s resto outside.
Upon arriving at the hotel, the invitee introduced me to the host who then invited me to join them. I was like, Oh, should I? Because the invitee obviously didn’t want me to be there. To avoid further discussions with the host, though, I decided to accept the invite.
So, there I was at the meeting, with very important people whose level was probably way above mine, I clearly didn’t belong, as the invitee continued to treat me like a pariah. And it didn’t help that the VIPs gave me souvenirs, too. Which I should not have accepted because I was not supposed to be there.
Why do I remember this particular luncheon meeting? Because its pictures keep on appearing on my phone now. Which bring me back to how I felt that time.
And I felt so bad. I should have had lunch at the fast food outlet near the office instead of going to the hotel with the invitee.
The cafeteria happened to be closed that time, thus, my decision to have lunch at the hotel resto. Tsk tsk. My bad.
Since then, I’ve been careful about accepting invites even if I’m officially invited. Being treated like a pariah at social events can be the most awkward moment.
I’ve been a mediaperson since 2003, I should be used to awkward moments by now. But I’ve reached that age when I want to feel welcomed instead of avoided.
Sitting at a table by my lonesome while my inviter is busy preparing for the program is not my idea of feeling welcomed. It makes me want to get outta there and go home. But I stay because I’ve decided to accept the invite. I use that time to write columns.
Writing columns has become my most reliable companion. It keeps me busy. It helps me avoid people whose presence I don’t want to acknowledge. It makes me observe people around me since I do need material for my topics.
What do they say about people like me? Oh. We’re the fly on the wall.
We smile. We’re polite. We can be friendly. And we’re observant. We take notes. When we say, Noted, it’s in caps.
Surprisingly, I don’t remember any awkward moment at press conferences and media gatherings. Except for that one time when I was a newbie, and stayed for far too long after a senator’s presscon, one of the journalists eventually asked me if I’m the senator’s PR.
Lesson learned: always leave a presscon ASAP.
Now, bloggers, vloggers, and social media influencers have joined the fray, people can’t distinguish anymore who’s mainstream media or not.
