"Don't f*#^k it up!" That was it; his parting words of wisdom. The he left the building for a few days of power points and free drinks. And so it's left to me to take care of things while the proprietor is drowning in a sea of false niceties and wafer thin 'friendships'.
That's not hard, of course, it's been done many times before; conferences, events, functions, Friday golf - I've always got it under control. That's what I do - I've never failed. But even then, they still keep me locked up.
There's a running joke on The Country that host Jamie Mackay never lets me out of the studio. It's true to a degree, but that's my job, that's what I'm there for - to take care of the behind-the-scenes stuff, the detritus that flies under the radar.
To tell you the truth, I'm more than happy with the arrangement. I have, on occasion, almost felt a minor twinge of pity for The Host, who would like nothing more than to bore himself to sleep on a Saturday night watching Coronation Street in his slippers with a cup of tea (replete with a sigh of milk) after 18 holes of mediocre weekend hackery. But the poor chap is often the victim of yet another invite to some event or function in the middle of nowhere where he has to laugh at jokes that aren't funny and talk to people he doesn't like.
I'm too blunt for that kind of rubbish. That joke's not funny... that conversation's boring... you're in danger of receiving an uppercut for simply being in my vicinity... that's the way I am with limited experience in that social sphere.