R is for Registration

Registration was cool.
I got a bag and a jacket and a spiffy thing with my name on and tickets inside.
The level of efficiency was astounding.
All I had to do was follow the signs. The big clearly marked signs. (Bare with me, I'm going some place with this.)

The newcomers session was first. Whereupon all the newcomers are put in a room, the doors locked and then branded like cattle. Upon our front we were branded with a badge that said '1st timer'.
Which kind made me feel all self-conscious, because let's face it, no one wants to be labled a first timer for anything. It's a question of pride, man!

Anyway, between the branding and the door shutting, someone pipes up from behind me and says: 'I really do need to register for the conference but I just can't find the registration desk.'
(Told you I'd get to a point.) So the dear old librarian turns to me and asks politely where I got my spiffy new jacket and bag, if it was by the registration desk perhaps.
I nod sagely and say yes, that I'd received my spiffacious new jacket and bag at the registration desk after registration.
She's says: 'Oh, and pray tell where is registration, by the way?'
I smile and point to the poster RIGHT BEHIND HER that says :
Registration : This way.


Apparently half the room was listening to me because they went off to register with the lost librarian.
Funny thing is, I didn't see her again for the entire conference. Hope she's still not wondering around the place looking for the registration desk.
Wouldn't it be something if she still was. Imagine a speaker at a podium in mid presentation a hatch pops up from the floor and our lost librarians pokes her head out and asks: 'Excuse me for interrupting but which way to the the Registration Desk?'
So if anyone is missing an academic librarian that went to the conference, she might still be wondering around there. Put a dissertation with questionable references in the foyer floor, that might lure her out.
That would never happen to a public librarian, observant as hell and cat-like reflexes that would put Batman to shame. It's to the project wielding kids you see....


Where was I?
Right, the ritualistic branding of my body to indicate my first timer status.
They did it, I cried.
I got over it.
Then on too the main Auditorium.

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