my Messiah moment

Like The Man holding the powerful Office Of The President-Elect, I was once a Messiah.

I used to work for a service company that assembled bicycles and toys for Department stores. Now, most of the time the management with under-armed stained shirts would have me set up my portable work station (with magic tools!) back in a damp, dim and poorly ventilated cinder block storage room, with the off switch to the nerve shattering muzak speaker out of reach.
But every once in a glorious while there wouldn't be any elbow room back at the Inn, and I'd have to set up right out on the showroom floor with jingling and shiny elves in my tool belt. Talk about tiny tots with their eyes all aglow and fingers up their noses! Heavens. Resisting the tug of their moms o'ding on jingle bell muzak, they'd look up at me with mouths gaping as I'd be spinning bikes on the work stand, attaching wheels with a short burst from my holstered Makita, and fastening reflectors and caliper brakes at double Lucy Ricardo Ethel Mertz assembly line speed, capped off with a short powerful pffft! from my trusty portable air compressor.
"Are you..?"
"Why, Yes..Yes, I AM," I'd cut them off in anticipation, barely above a whisper.

But adults were never fooled. I was quickly cut down to size by many puzzling inquiries about what aisle potting fertilizer was on.
"Um...I don't work here."