Wednesday, 7 March 2012

Trade

Oh there he is with his big glow on the big UK title, over there with the CEO of Nestlé sitting there all shiny bald heads & dandruffed Italian suits.
Fuck! Sidle over, er, sir - he knows me - we made a podcast once, it wasn't that great, the eyes are wary - potential time waster.
"Got 5 for a pod chief?" I ask.
"Er' yes, FT now, have you seen Jofrain, the press officer? He has the schedule ok?"
"Sure thing. Thanks," i say moving off into the pack of hacks standing around with their various devices, hackin...mostly a frumpily dressed buncha freaks who had little understanding of the heavy financial & strategic plays that were their common subjects. It was a fraud really.

Oh & at the end of the lawn the CNN piece with a board member talking about the convergence of food & pharma - that'd be phood - & the likely shareprice effect of a 5bn euro investment in a research institute that may inevitably churn out exactly zero products unless ENORME % points of the population can awake from a nutritional slumber & realise that humble ol food, or better foods, can keep them outta hospitals. & debt.

"Jofrain?"
"Er, ha, yes? Er, Keith, yes, what would you like?"
Gotta love the Swiss. The Swiss PR. Thick, black-framed, DKNY mild prescription glasses; moussed side-part; alabaster, moisturised, acned face; classic, dark grey english wool suit with a thick pin, Nestlé clipboard, pad, pen.
"Can I get 5 with Paul? Got 90 minutes to get a pod up..." Jofrain looks to his folder. "Mmmmm...schedule's loking quite full you know today Keith..." "I have two questions Jofrain...seriously...5 minutes max." I look pleading and desperate & try to throw a little rugged Han Solo-ness in there too, like, 'you can say no Jof but you know, & i know, & Paul knows, that everyone will benefit if we get this thing happening." Even if it's not really true & last time I missed crucial questions due to a lack of research. It's all about the sell. Innit?

Lamely i hold the Marantz podcast recorder above my head in my right hand, admiring its serious professional look. Jofrain smiles & glances at it too. "You have questions?" he asks. "There are many important journalists here today." Incredulous: "What & I'm not?"
Jofrain looks at his schedule again, adjusting his DKNYs a little. "Follow me." "Good lad," I mutter, following, suddenly, desperately, trying to narrow in on some questions that won't bore the CEO of the world's biggest food enterprise...



2 comments:

  1. Missed an ampersand in the first sentence, son, and another later on. An accomplished food-geek rant. I think you may have invented a genre.

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