Passing Mics At An Event Is The Worst Job In The World

I hate passing mics at events.

In fact, some relatives mentioned that I am a lazy human being. Maybe it’s true. I hate manual work. According to my class three calculations, by now, I am supposed to have machines installed in my house to carry out all the house chores.

I like working with my mind. Call me a creative. I love creating and being in a room full of idea executors. That’s it.

So when Ayub asked me to pass the mic around during a recent event, I almost slapped him. But no, I couldn’t. Because then, I would be perceived as being violent. And you know I have a reputation to protect.

I was furious because passing mics around is extremely hectic, especially if the event is a whole house. If you are a professional in the mic passing industry, please do not get mad. I am only expressing how it makes me feel because I am lazy and have other preferences.

Let me demonstrate this for you.

You are on the left side of the room. Sharon, the glue that binds the famous SDA choir in your village because of her concordant voice, raises her hand to ask a question. She is seated on the far right. You hurriedly take the mic to where she is. Still, by the time you reach her, she has already asked the question, sat down, and opened Instagram to update that particular moment.

Kibet, senior council, as he calls himself, raises his vast and long hand from the middle of the room. You run to him and get him halfway to his statement. He looks at you ‘from above’ and picks the mic like it’s a pen. You are happy because you have accomplished something. It’s half-baked, but it is accomplished.

You rush the mic to the moderator, Miss Indiasi. She looks at you as if to confess her feelings, then says, “Makofi kwake!” The crowd claps. She continues responding to questions raised by the few people confident enough to contribute to matters of financial literacy.

You go to the back. Your armpits are sweating as if they are working overtime, mshahara nono. They remind you of the days you have dodged shaving but applying aftershave. They remind you of the many days you wanted to shave, but your fling told you she has a fetish; Male sweat.

And what fuels masculine sweat but hairy and dirty armpits? As you think about the many times she said, “I like mine hot, sweaty, and bushy,” Miss Indiasi asks you to help pass the mic.

As the mic passing business is, unless you have many microphones and the crowd is helping with passing them, you will do a complete workout running from one person to the other, from one side of the room to the other.

In fact, as I see it, this could be a booming business. If you have an entrepreneurial mind, please take note.

Say you want to fumigate your church or conference hall. The right people to do that are Masters of ceremony (MCs), who are actually professional mic passers (this is not a thing. If it is, I do not know).

Within a few hours of passing mics from one part of the room to another, you will have achieved complete fumigation of the place. With this school of thought, although I hate the job, I highly recommend mic passing to be utilized in fumigation and other related activities. Mic passing for fumigation!

However, I will continue hating the profession because I am lazy or love convenience. There is no way I am going to run around an event just to give someone a mic. And sometimes, the person disrespects the profession by talking nonsense.

Just like sweet potatoes, I hate passing mics. You should do it too!


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