A few minutes before the Univision upfront presentation was to start at Home of Jazz in New York this morning, I scored a pretty sweet seat—first row in the balcony, dead center. I checked its availability with the ladies situated next to the open seat, and was told it was unclaimed.
Moments later, one of them tersely informed me that, “If a client shows up, you’re gonna have to go.” I responded with a snarky remark about her knack for tact. She shrugged.
As we both sat there, trying to figure out our next move, I asked who she was. Heck, I’d gladly move if she held some official capacity, or even just asked nicely. She shrugged again and responded, “Nobody.”
Against my better judgment, I said something along the lines of, if you have clients to worry about, you must at least be affiliated with something. What might it say on your business card?
“I’m Nobody,” she repeated.
Perhaps midway through the presentation, “Nobody” up and left, and some guy in a suit assumed her seat. I guess he was a client.