Mitch had scanned a lot of badges in his life.
Trade shows, expos, conferences—he had seen it all.
Most attendees didn’t even make eye contact. They just held out their lanyards like exhausted sacrifices, waiting for the little BEEP that sealed their fate as a lead.
It was all so routine. Until today.
Until her.
The woman with no name
She approached the booth just like everyone else.
Blazer. Business casual. Tired but polite smile.
“Hi,” Mitch said, forcing enthusiasm. “Want to see a quick demo?”
She didn’t answer. Just held out her badge.
Mitch scanned it.
BEEP.
A name flashed on his tablet.
[ERROR: UNKNOWN ATTENDEE]
He frowned. “Uh, weird. Let me try again.”
BEEP.
[ERROR: UNKNOWN ATTENDEE]
He looked up.
The woman was still smiling. Unblinking.
His stomach twisted. “What company are you with?”
Still, no answer.
And then… she turned and walked away.
The database check
Mitch wasn’t paid enough to care about this stuff. But something about her bothered him.
During lunch, he pulled up the event’s attendee list.
6,742 names.
He searched: “Unknown Attendee.”
Nothing.
He searched again, using the badge ID.
Nothing.
No record. No registration. She didn’t exist.
The others
By day two, he started noticing more of them.
People who never spoke. Who just held out their badges, scanned, and walked away.
And every time—ERROR: UNKNOWN ATTENDEE.
By day three, it was happening constantly.
Mitch whispered to a fellow exhibitor, “Hey, have you seen the people who don’t exist?”
The guy paled. Nodded.
“We call them the ghost leads. They show up at every conference. No records. No emails. Just scans.”
“Why?”
“No one knows.”
The final day
Mitch couldn’t let it go.
He waited by the exit, watching.
And there they were.
A dozen of them. Silent. Smiling. Leaving.
Mitch did something stupid.
He followed.
They walked out of the convention center. Across the street. Into a parking garage.
Mitch crept behind a column, heart pounding.
He peeked around.
And froze.
Because they weren’t walking to cars.
They were just… standing.
Lined up in perfect rows.
Then, all at once, they turned their heads toward him.
Like they had been waiting.
Mitch Ran.
He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t look back.
He just ran.
Quit his job. Moved to another state. Never worked at a trade show again.
And for years, he tried to forget.
Until last week.
When his phone buzzed.
An email.
Subject line: Thank You for Visiting Our Booth! From: UNKNOWN ATTENDEE.
Mitch deleted it immediately.
But his phone beeped again.
New Email: [ERROR: UNKNOWN ATTENDEE]
And again.
And again.
And again.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Somewhere, at another trade show… a rep scans a badge.
And the cycle begins again.
