speechless.

Everyone was waiting neatly, with their cameras in hand and a microphone for the anchor. Their uniforms or ID clearly told me where do they come from (as in, what company), and I, being responsible to help usher them and take care of them, so that everything goes smoothly according to our tight schedule, stood along them, with my camera phone ready.

There has been a few false alarm already, but we all knew that this time it's for sure.

The glass door shook, the Secret Service starting to get busier. The jet-black car stopped, its door opened. Cameras are rolled already, everyone is murmuring.

Then, pop.

An old man in purple batik shirt came up to the scene.

Shaking hands with all the important ones.

As soon as he got inside, everyone greeted him warmly, which soon replied with a short interview. On how he was ready for the night. On how his theme-line would not stray too far from what he had achieved so far.

And I was left, totally dumbstrucked. Right behind Kania Sutisnawinata's pretty, small-framed figure.

Thank goodness my camera was ready, so that I can continue to wonder at how impressive SBY was in person.