I stood there sheepishly and stared at the the computer screen.
The graphics designer was seated on the chair, his fingers floating a few centimeters from the keyboard, waiting for me to blurt out those few words so that he could type the content out and then go for his lunch break.
I looked at him. I looked at the computer screen. I looked back at him.
He turned to face me, irritated with his black thick rimmed glasses as to say “Er…buddy, I haven’t got the whole day”.
I then gestured to him to handover the keyboard — which after venting out a frustrating sigh — he just stood up in a rather irritated manner as to let me know “Yeah right another clown — let’s see what magic you come up with.”
So I sat down… nervously.
I took a deep breath.
Closed my eyes for a few seconds.
And then — as if I was transported back in time — I remembered, reflected and recollected….The dark memory of the attempted suicide.
I opened my eyes.
I was in the zone now.
Pissed. Angry. Enraged.
Immediately my fingers danced across the keyboard.
Fast. Furious. Feverishly.
The graphics designer stood there watching… I sat down there typing.
A minute later, I stood up.
The graphics designer slowly sat down.
He looked at the screen. Looked at me. Looked at the screen. And then said “Er…you…you want…you want this?”
I said yes. I want this.
He sat down, adjusted his black thick rimmed glasses and let out a sigh so as to say “Either this guy is nuts or…is he nuts?”
I looked at the screen, pissed, angry and in rage as I was still in the zone — as he completed adjusting the font size, spacing and alignment on the computer screen.
This time — I was in charge. I was telling him what I wanted. And I was firm about it.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even let out a sigh.
I was in the zone — remember?
Once it was done — he gave a print command and then handed me the draft copy for my final approval.
I approved it. And signed off for 5,000 pieces to be printed.
Finally, after a week, my business card was ready. And as I went to pick it up.
The graphics guy met me at the door, looked at me, this time he smiled and said “I’ve kept a copy of your card. Its..…er…..its different.”
And then I opened the box to look at my official business card.
It was me alright — Just like me.
Just me — Controversial, Communicative & Charismatic.
And this Controversial Ugly Business Card became the turning point of my life forever.