When you hand someone your business card it should mean something. A powerful symbol of exchange between two people, as though you are sharing yourself with a person, that you want them to know you. Maybe even trust you. Alright, perhaps I’m extrapolating here a tad too much.
When I gave my business card to the manager of Lebua at State Tower, it did mean something. Access. I was there to cover his luxury hotel and to get me some of this:
Damn, wrong photo. I meant this:
Access to the legendary Sky Bar, boasting the best view of Bangkok.
As the manager in the hotel lobby (or could he have been the manager at that particular moment?) clutched my business card, with a smile and a steady assurance he said, “No problem, Ms. Mark. You can photograph whatever you need.”
Whatever you need. I clung to those words and could relax in the role of documentarian.