Image by BlackburnPhoto via Flickr

It my first day in the lion pit. I was always told that wild animals can scent fear. It is the look of hunger I see in their eyes. As they slowly pace back and forth looking for signs of weakness. A tiny bead of sweat or a nervous jerk of your hands will give the go ahead to attack with out mercy. Heaven help you if you are the blame for someone else mistake. You are at the tip of the blade. You must fall on your sword. It is a matter of control. I know I am on the menu. I must please the hungry crowd. This task I feel is beyond my ability and skill level. Somehow I must achieve my objective. I smile and try to stay calm. If I get this order wrong I might be fired. Just like a gladiator I take my duty station. Welcome Madam or Sir may I take your order.