It's lunch time and I'm sitting with a bunch of stiff suits trying to fit into a world of straight laced 50-60-year-old men. I often find that I don't have alot in common with people when there is a 30 year generation gap. They all have a wife and kids, I do not. They all have worked in the field for 3 or 4 decades. I on the other hand wasn't even born. My outside interests consist of things like playing basketball, boxing and racing my motorcycle. Their interests surround a good Cuban cigar and 18 holes of golf. I don't think I mesh too well. In a few years I can see myself settling down - getting married, having kids. In a few years, they see themselves retiring - kids are grown, time to travel. The reality is, they are old enough to be my father. For that reason, I don't feel they take too kindly to the fact that I'm even there, competing at their level at a much younger age. I can understand that. I can sense the resentment. However, what they don't realize is that most of the time, I'm the one "in awww" over them. If I were to admit that, they would think I was kissing ass/brown nosing.
With any job comes meeting new people. Meeting new people means making a good first impression. A lasting impression. Leaving your mark. As I'm sitting around a table finishing up lunch with these guys, I reach for my yogurt. I begin spooning up the creamy treat of strawberry Yoplait. I think to myself "this hits the spot" - figuratively...and literally. I notice that I accidentally dropped a rather heaping spoonful of the yogurt onto my lap. You do know what yogurt looks like on your crotch right? If not, then take a generous portion of some yogurt, sling it across your crotch and glance in the mirror. Yes, it looks like you came in your drawers. Another "Monica stain", but unlike the 1st time I posted about a similar story, this one was just yogurt. Of course it's difficult to tell the difference between semen and yogurt on pants.
No big deal, right? It was an accident. I began to wipe up with a napkin, not realizing that I was actually pushing the yogurt deeper into the fabric, making it worse! It was now more noticeable. It got underneath the flap of my zipper. I attempted to wipe just underneath the flap, when I realized it would be best to go into the Men's Room where I could use a little water and unzip if need be. I now looked like some kid took his SuperSoaker 9000 gun, filled it with man juice and soaked it on me. Not pretty. Just as I began to ask the guys to excuse me while I go to the Men's Room, I hear "hold on a minute, I want you to meet someone first, she just came in". I look across the room and there she is, smiling and walking towards our table. (Sorry, I am withholding her name for several reasons.)
I can feel my blood temperature rising because I know I am going to have to stand and shake hands with her in my look-a-like cum coverings. If that wasn't bad enough, now I had the flap of my pants open! I might as well been unzipped too because it looked that bad at this point. What could I do? She was rapidly approaching the table. I could reach down and adjust my crotch, but that would look inappropriate and perverted. Besides, having your flap open with what appears to be semen shot all over the front of your pants is less inappropriate and perverted right? In hindsight I see that reaching down to adjust would of been the less of the 2 evils. Unfortunately for me, I choose to stand and greet this woman with my flap open and a questionable looking substance oozing by my zipper.
I don't even remember what I babbled to her. I think I did mention I spilled something on me because she surely noticed and wondered. I could hear that little voice inside my head saying "you idiot!" It was both humbling and humiliating to meet this woman. I wonder what she thought? I also wonder what God must think, that he took the practical joke a little too far? Do you think God was giggling? I'm sure he was busting up. I think it's his form of payback to me since I ate meat on Good Friday. Oh well, I'm a sinner and yogurt crotch is my hell. Maybe it's just classified as karma. Either way, I'll wear a bib next time...around my waist. Yes, a first impression lasts a lifetime, does it not? I'm sure I've left my "mark".
***UPDATE***
My business trip to DC this week has been quite eventful, that is for certain. I'm sure everyone saw the news, heard about U.S. Department of Homeland Security spokesman Brian Doyle being arrested for the solicitation of a 14-year-old girl (really an undercover officer) over the Internet. These charges coming just a week after a NASA employee was arrested under similar circumstances, allegedly of course. I know nothing more about either incident other than what CNN is reporting, honestly. So when I was told to say "no comment" if anyone from the media asked me to talk about what had happened, I did just that. I remained "tight lipped" - the don't ask, don't tell policy. I know OF Doyle, but I don't really know HIM on a personal level. Therefore I can't and won't answer any questions on Doyle, but feel free to comment on the strawberry yogurt surprise part of the post.
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