Guest of Honour

A common consequence of fame and position is a constant barrage of unreasonable demands on the VIP's time and patience. Of course being a public personality means having to constantly hobnob with the media and other VIPs as well as make inspirational speeches at seminars and functions. It's part of the famous person's job description. Plus who wouldn't enjoy all that attention. But as with everything else, there is always scope for excessive advantage being taken of an important person's goodwill.
Say we are talking about an eminent writer who has earned one of the biggest awards in his field. He will naturally be called to innumerable functions, his mere presence immediately spiking up the value of the programme, making it news worthy to the various media. If he is one of those rare creatures who is modest, unassuming and does not know how to say no, it may be a torturous journey ahead.
It will mean, for one thing, hours stranded in some gridlock before reaching the venue – hours he could have spent reading, chatting, sleeping – anything would be more pleasurable than this frustrating waste of time. Even if he is on time, inevitably some other Very Important Person has not arrived. If it is a politician the wait may be from two to three hours.
In many cases the venue will be some dank, gloomy room in some public building where the electricity will be as temperamental as the cleaner of the only washroom in the vicinity. The victim in question will be made to sit with the other victims, sorry panelists, onstage. This means there is virtually no escape from the ordeal that is sure to follow. If he is to be honoured for his accomplishments he may find that there is a good 15 people waiting to take the podium before he may finally be bestowed the honour and be set free.
Sadly the audience at these functions tends to be glaringly sparse. Sometimes the people who do turn up are there because of the air conditioning or in the hope of free refreshments and souvenirs. In fact many are totally clueless about who is being honoured and why.
But the most excruciating part is still to come. In every function of this kind there will always be a few speakers who will go well beyond their allotted time, painfully digressing to relate uninteresting anecdotes that have nothing to do with the subject of the programme. Conversely, they may try to impress upon the apathetic audience, how close they are to the celebrity who is to be honoured. In the case of memorials such accounts are grossly exaggerated but then who's checking.
Members of the audience often contribute to the nightmare. There will always be that obnoxious person sitting in the front row speaking loudly on the cell phone or chitchatting with his neighbour who would have gladly disappeared into thin air if it were possible. This will be at some crucial point in the dismal affair – just when the announcer is reading out the citation of the honoured person or worse, when the person in question is trying to say a few words of appreciation for the honour. For the handful of individuals who decided to brave the function just to hear their favourite VIP speak, it is indeed painful to witness such gross disrespect towards their hero.
The level of misery produced by these tedious functions can be measured by the pained look of martyrdom on the panelists' faces. Some of them, however, may have given up altogether and will happily nap away in full view of the audience.
Everything comes to life at the end of the programme. Many rush to the tea table when the refreshments are announced. Others will practically bulldoze everything in front of them to get to the more important panelists to say ingratiating things and take selfies with them.
For the guest of honour, the actual VIP, it is time to sprint out of the hullabaloo and make as quick an escape as possible.