Home articles Visiting cards..!

Visiting cards..!

IT’S become fashionable today to hand
out business cards or so it seems to me, as
cards, nineteen to the dozen are dished out to me. “Pleased to meet you,” I say extending my hand to thin air. I look for the person who just a moment ago was making conversation, my arm caught in midair as if holding a vase or article of great value.
I slowly lower it, looking round to see whether those around have noticed my ludicrous action and once I have got my silly fingers firmly back at my side, look round angrily for the person who had fooled me into offering it.
I find him either desperately fishing into his pocket, opening a wallet and looking furtively inside or walking over to wife and enquiring whether she has any of his business cards left. Then with a flourish he hands it over to me. I put it in my pocket. “So, what is your name?” I ask pleasantly. “It’s on the card!” “And what do you do?” “It’s on the card!”
“Ah yes!” I say and wander away from Mr Card Giver who I notice is quite glad I didn’t offer him my own in return. I don’t because I never seem to have one handy and also because the one that was printed for me fifteen years ago and which gives outdated information about me, still hasn’t run out, the reason being the printer died after having delivered those cards and his overzealous son who took over the business thinking his father hadn’t completed my order printed another thousand cards for me. Now what do I do with two thousand cards?
So I’ll take the cards with me on my final journey home. “What’s this you’ve brought with you Bob?” “My visiting card my Lord,” I will say, “Here have a look at it. It tells everything. See here it tells you I was a humour columnist!” “I know Bob but your card my son, tells me nothing about you,” says God as he tears up my card, “your heart does and I’m looking at it now!”
Now I’m not God and I can’t look at people’s hearts, but I’d much prefer a warm handshake, a genuine smile and words from a person’s mouth than a piece of cardboard that tells me he or she is the managing director of some firm I’ve never heard off.
The more cards there are the more directors there seem to be! Can a card tell me if he stopped to give a limping stranger a lift, whether he shared his morning breakfast with his driver, or if he wished the lift man on the way up? “Those kind of people,” says a voice above, “Don’t need cards Bob, goodness is written all over them..!”