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| This is NOT me, okay...? Any resemblance is strictly coincidental. |
Such is the slightly strange and surreal nature of my life that I was
recently mistaken for that particular footballing institution in an email.
This, I think, is quite odd because the resemblance between myself and an
internationally followed football team is slight at best…
They run around the world playing their little games in front of
various crowds of people and have a huge stadium parked somewhere on the very
edge of the city after which they are named, and a group of very vocal fans all
over the world, and I’m…
Just some bloke in an office somewhere.
And yet someone still made the very basic yet fundamental error that implied
that they really couldn’t tell us apart.
Okay, so I’ll tell you what really happened, although I’m sure you’ll
have already figured this out for yourselves. After all, you’re all
intelligent, discerning and rather brilliant people (otherwise you wouldn’t
be here in the first place…) but if I don’t bother to tell you, then the rest of
this page is going to look very blank indeed.
It might still look that way anyhow. Those words are yet to be found…
Okay, to explain. I work in the exceedingly unglamorous world of
Graphicke Designe which basically means that occasionally I have dealings with
printers to whom I send what is usually derisively referred to as my “work” for
them to transmogrify into our finished product, whatever it might turn out to
be this week.
This means that those printers do, on occasion, have to liaise with me and ask me
questions of the “Are you really sure you want us to print it looking like
this?” or “Where are all of the linked files?” or “Did you really think this
was any good?” variety and so, because they’re terribly efficient in their
homespun “We’ll change all of it and he’ll probably never even notice” way,
they do me the simple courtesy of adding me to their computer’s address book
just in case they ever decide that they might need to explain exactly why they
decided to change everything that I had sent them because they “reckoned” that
it would look “far better” done their way…
But, putting the long-standing feud between the designers and the
printers aside for a moment, this does tend to mean that I quietly lurk
forgotten and unloved in the “M” section of the computer of someone whom I’ve
never even met, and this means that, if they’re in a hurry to reply to that
oh-so-very important email that they’ve just received, they might just click on
their pull-down menu and accidentally click on the wrong “M”
Me…
Which is why I now have some terribly exciting pictures taken backstage
at the TV studios of Old Trafford football ground which were, I presume,
supposed to be printed out at a large
size over the weekend for some publicity event or other that’s supposed
to be happening quite soon.
I’m sure that they’ll still be able to print them of course. After all,
they were merely attachments being bounced back to me in some misdirected
reply, but it amused me for a moment to, rather ironically, be mistaken for one
of the biggest footballing clubs in the world.
It’s probably
rather flattering that it’s such an easy mistake to make. It happens all the
time. I was once mistaken for the Taj Mahal, you know, and the entire island of
Madagascar, and I’ve never told you about the twelve years I spent as the
Maharajah of a small far eastern country best left unmentioned, have I…?
Aren't you Ayers Rock? Haven't seen you in ages.
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