One more minute and I’ll be leaving. I’ve been waiting for this to end for the past thirty six minutes. I’m not kidding. I’ve been counting each minute, watching the huge white clock, with the black numbers, while I’ve been listening to all the successful people talk among themselves.
I’m terrible at small talk and networking. They can all see that I’m nervous now, but I wasn’t thirty seven minutes ago. I’m closing my eyes just for a few seconds, and I’m thinking that I’m a lot more comfortable all by myself and I don’t know why, but at the same time, I’m thinking of the famous quote “in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.”
I’m the one-eyed man in the room, so I should be the king. But in order to be the king, I have to take action. I have to show some guts. I have to do something.
I finished my presentation thirty six minutes ago. They listened. They asked questions. I answered, just as expected. I was the centre of attention. And then, all of a sudden, it was the last slide, and I was finished. Perfect timing, but I hadn’t planned the ending. I felt like a curtain was lowered, slowly, from the ceiling, to the floor, just a few inches in front of me. It’s like I’m not in the same room as my audience anymore. It’s like I am invisible.
I can here them talking about me. They are asking questions about me, and what I have just said, but they aren’t talking to me. I am just standing here without anything to say. I am looking at them, but they aren’t looking back at me.
I am raising my glass, and while it was touching my lips, I was thinking that it would have been fun to poor the black liquid on to the table, just to see if I could get a reaction. My guess was that nothing I could have done at that very moment would have made a difference.
The men in suits are still sitting by the table, sharing their stories, and building strong relationships, and me, I’m standing in the corner, all alone, drinking Coca-Cola Zero, and thinking of why I’m standing in the corner all alone and drinking Coca-Cola Zero.