Andrea Turns Out the Lights, e.g. a Mix-Up

Dateline Seoul, Wednesday 10:17 AM:

As Andrea luxuriated on the 17th floor of the Lotte, the opening banalities of the industry conference wafted through the hotel. The organizers had gotten at cross-purposes with talent; one Lord Duncan, some kind of a minor royal somebody or something, had been promised a major speaking slot at the conference opening, which was rescinded on account of his financial ties to one of the sponsors. Someone saw a conflict of interest, and the Lord’s press agent is seriously pissed. He’s been relegated to a couple of introductions, reduced to a laugh line. No less than three conference people had tried to explain the situation to the agent, three poor souls, three different stories. The agent is chewing her nails, chewing her nicorette. The Lord is putting a brave face on things, puffing and posing, Lord this and Lord that. Blah blah blah. Andrea’s in bed.

Now there are a number of other people from her firm at the conference, and a name list, so she’s going to have to put in an appearance at some point. She decides to roll down about 40 minutes before lunch. This way she can drop into a session, stroll the floor for a bit, and beat the lunch line. Eat some SOUP.

Area man’s plan to stay home all weekend and play video games goes off without a hitch.

Like the area man, Andrea’s plan is foolproof in its simplicity. Before leaving her room she tucks the key in her valise, just in case.

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Lexical Interlude:
A valise is a small suitcase. If you’re carrying a valise as you climb onto a train, you’re probably heading off on a short vacation or a weekend trip to visit a friend. The noun valise sounds a little old-fashioned these days, but it’s still a good way to talk about a satchel or overnight bag.
In other words, a valise is a suitcase. Andrea carries a valise.

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She puts on a black dress, tasteful but not demure, and black heels. Dressed to kill and ready for soup, she takes the elevator.

Wednesday, 15:45:

The soup was pumpkin, of course. Pumpkin soup is the staple of international hotels everywhere. Most pumpkin soup is so-so; today’s was at least decent. Her hunger is sated, but that’s about the only thing about her that is. She’s bowed and scraped to a dozen industry veterans and talked trade with the guys from her firm. She’s been seen.

Today’s closing remarks are underway and the conference, 1100 strong, is packed into the main ballroom. Andrea circles to the back to the sound and light booth. This is the nerve center of the room and the man with his finger on the buttons is Mouse. Mouse is a known quantity–he is sound man to the world and works events just like this one 280 days a year around the world. He used to work full time for Bausch and Lomb before going freelance. A total pro, but he has a weakness. A weakness for Andrea.

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