Memoir Of a ‘Wannabe’

I had the audacity to call myself a writer. The other day some people asked me an innocent question... “What do you do?” They asked. “I am a writer”, cringing within, because I couldn’t remember the last honest piece of anything even closely resembling ‘ literary,’ I had written. Hopefully they would stop with this line of questioning...I prayed. Smiling bravely I remained with the company, eager that their attention would now turn to the delicious meal we were having.
“What do you write?” they probed...
“Well! I write anything and everything.” That was vague enough. They would probably stop asking now. I thought. Intrigued they might move on and talk among themselves, “what an interesting person she is” they might say...I dreamed.
“Oh interesting!” They all said. By about now, their expressions were of serious awe...Encouraged... I continued.... “I write profiles for companies, people and services”... I should’ve stopped there, but pride got the better of me. There is nothing more seductive than attention of a crowd of people with every eye focused at you...”I write content for websites”....
“Oh!”
“You’re a copy writer...is it?”
“...aha!”
“You write brochures and pamphlets isn’t it?”
“Well! That too”...I said sheepishly. Feeling rather exposed. So much for referring to myself as a writer. I was losing ground. They were losing interest. Sniggering they started dispersing. Like a defiant drowning man gasping for air..... “I am a content writer”...but by then there was hardly anybody listening to me...
The appeal had clearly vanished. All their attention was now directed at the food, where it belonged right from the start. And I for one was forgotten and pushed to the oblivion.
But I didn’t really give up. To save the honour of every copy writer on planet Earth I bidded time...for some serious damage control.
“I should’ve just said I am a blogger...damn!”