I am not a person who's really "into" titles.
Back when I worked in Corporate America, I was always mildly disgusted about how seriously people took their own titles; one company had so many "Vice Presidents" that it couldn't possibly have meant anything.
Fortunately, I am now in the Socialist Republic of Nonprofitia, where titles tend to reflect less one's corporate caste than merely a job description. Once, on a quiet afternoon, my colleagues and I decided that we would all promote ourselves: I was voted Senior Vice President for Inappropriate Commentary.
Officially my title is Administration, Finance & Human Resources Assistant, which is short for The Guy Who Does Everything for the Company That Isn't in Anyone Else's Job Description, which doesn't fit on a business card.
This weekend we had a board meeting, and tonight is the company's biggest annual fundraising event, so today was inordinately busy, what with major donors and board members coming in and out, and the phones ringing off the hook confirming time, location, dress code, seating requests and the like. Naturally the receptionist called out sick. It was decided that today would not be a good day to have a temp working the switchboard, since board members and such need to be handled delicately. Can't risk dropped or misdirected calls, or, God forbid, wrong answers. So the powers that be decided I should just sit at the front desk today.
I was fine until another employee, giving a tour of the office to a board member, introduced me thusly: "This is Andy, the receptionist."