the story of our first pitch (but called the final pitch 2 of 3) The one with fake results and anxiety

 Murphy's law somehow always catches up with us. 

This is no sh*t, the 2 days before the pitch on the "Final Pitch" show, I started suffering from a fever.

Note that at this time, despite lower cases, Covid 19 was still a thing. So there was always paranoia. Also, to be able to join the shooting, I should send a negative covid test.

So I am going to divulge some really irresponsible sh*t I did.

The morning of the pitch I still had a fever, 38 point something degrees, still quite high. I gulped up glasses of Berocca and had a BioFlu tablet. I had to take a covid rapid test and send an email of my result. I had one at home but I was too afraid to take the test because I might get a positive result.

So yes, here is the sh*tty Jason showing up, filled with desperation, I faked the result. I had my wife take it and took a picture of it and emailed it to the film staff. 

It was irresponsible and there are no other reasons to justify my actions putting at risk a lot of people.

But well, yes, I did it. I sent the fake results through email and drove to Okada hotel, with some shivers and a fever, but in reality it did not really bother me as much. There was too much adrenaline in my veins and anxiety in my head.

Parked. Walked up to the shooting venue. 

I put 2 masks on. Good thing I was not coughing or sneezing, in my head at that time it was enough rationalization for my stupid actions, thinking that I am not contagious (?) or at least I can control the spreading if indeed I had Covid. I sat in the corner, people started to make conversations with me, entrepreneurs are generally friendly, but I brushed it aside and just moved away. Probably they thought I was an ass, which I was really given my health situation, but yah, what am I gonna do?

There was an area in the corner covered by drapes, I went there, Ipad in one hand and a big jug of Berocca on the other. I practiced. 2 hours before my turn. Carl, our sales head, was also there, but I told him to keep distance. He was my “call a friend”, but the presentation would be handled by me.

I went through the deck again and again. I overanalyzed every word I said. At that time, the whole presentation became my whole world. I knew all the words to say, or at least memorized everything I typed a couple of days back. I actually forgot I was sick. A fever is no match for my anxiety at that moment.

Would I be able to do this?

Would I look dumb?

Instead of getting investors for my company, would I end up just making our company look bad?

I NEED this, my whole company needs this, we need the money to pay for salaries and bills, but can I really do it? What happens if I fail?

Would I lose the respect of my team? Would I lose their trust?

Is my team going to leave me because I failed?

Am I really made for this sh*t?

A lot of these useless questions keep popping up in my head. Add to that seeing less than excited entrepreneurs leaving the studio area.

If they “failed”, what are the chances I could beat those odds? I am no genius, or at least I am not that better than them.

F*cking thoughts circling my head. Actually, they were not only circling, they were banging on the door. Banging hard.

1 hour until my turn.

I went to the toilet and went inside one of the stalls. I took out my vape and had a deep drag.

The world kept still for a split second.

Exhale. Smoke coming out my mouth, and for some reason I smiled. I remember that moment clearly because even I did not know why I did smile. Maybe because in that short moment of clarity I realized how stupid the thoughts in my mind are? Or it is just the nicotine calming my nerves and feeding my stupidly addicted brain? I don’t know.

I went out the stall and peed on the urinal. Mid stream, one of the judges came in and peed at the urinal beside me. He made this weird grunt as he started pissing.

“Are you nervous?”

The m-fu- asked. Duh???

“Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe?”

I lied. Of course I lied.

“Well, good luck!”

He zipped his pants, looked at himself in the mirror, fixed his hair and went out (without washing his hands).

At that moment I realized I should not be nervous. These judges are just stupid guys like me who just got luckier earlier. I mean, he did not even wash his hands?

People know me as a confident person, at most occasions, even annoyingly over confident, but as you read this, you would see that everything is just a f-ing front. I am always scared shitless. I am just better at hiding it I think beneath a curtain of obnoxious arrogance.

I took another drag from my vape. Washed my hands. Looked myself at the mirror and pepped talked my self with my own little mantra:

“You are not good looking enough. 

You are not smart enough.

The only thing you have is that you are not afraid to lose.”

Flipped off my own reflection (part of the mantra), then went out.

“Jason Gaguan of Hustle!”

Yup, as I went out, I heard that scream.

It is my turn.