For reasons best known to himself, my boss has decided to send me to the Gold Coast to some sort of conference about....computers? Or something? It involves security. Um.
Luckily, I will not be attending the actual conference; my job will be to man the booth for the company's computer magazine. I was not aware until Tuesday that my company produced a computer magazine, so I don't really know what I'm going to do if people ask me questions. I think my job is mainly to hand out flyers, talk to people, and bribe them with lollies to sign up to some sort of newsletter. My boss actually used the word 'banter' when he was explaining what he wants me to do. I am not good at banter. Why is he sending me, someone with no knowledge of what the magazine is actually about, and whose social skills have been described at 'non-existent'?
There are two interpretations for why I've been chosen to go to this. One is that I'm the most junior, least vital member of staff, and if I'm out of the office for three days, no one will be inconvenienced. The other interpretation, and the one I'm choosing to believe, is that I have been chosen because I'm the prettiest and the hardest working member of staff, and I deserve a three day break from the office to go and do a cruisy job in a nice hotel where I will be fed and watered in the manner to which I am accustomed. As always, the truth lies somewhere in the middle.
Anyway, I'm off to the airport in a couple of hours. I have been given a giant box full of sweets and a envelope full of cash (for 'expenses') - these people are far too trusting - and this evening I will be attending the opening festivities. I quote from my orientation sheet;
Dust off your leiderhosen! Oktoberfest has arrived early! Quench your thirst with some German beer and enjoy sampling the flavours of Germany on the buffet.
I can hardly wait.
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