Something happened on Monday that was mortifying. And in order to tell you the story, I have to tell another mortifying story so that you will understand it.
A few months back, it was a wonderful Friday (which means a group of my coworkers and I go to Culver's for lunch, deeee-lish) and I wore a new pair of jeans. I usually wear business casual Monday through Thursday, so I look forward to my jeans on Fridays. And today was especially exciting because I got to wear new jeans.
The day just couldn't get any better.
Well, about 2:00, I was sitting on the edge of a desk, explaining something to one of the new hires (I was mentoring at the time). I'd been sitting there for a good 10 minutes when I looked down and realized something.
I could see my underwear. There was a hole in the crotch of my pants. And it was a monstrous hole. I could have fit four fingers through it.
I quickly closed my legs and tried to look casual, and searched my trainee's face for signs of mirth. I couldn't tell if she had noticed. I quickly finished the conversation, and went back to my desk. After a few moments of mortification, I was able to see the humor in the situation. I told my friend Renee, thinking she would laugh.
"Oh yeah! I noticed at lunch but didn't want to say anything in front of everyone. I was going to tell you later but forgot."
Thanks Renee.
So fast-forward to Monday. Monday was a bit of a stressful day. We are behind so our workload has been increased, and while I am meeting goal I am working feverishly the whole day. I got up for a bathroom break, and ran into my friend Renee. Good old Renee. We stopped to chat for a bit about nothing special, and she glanced at my crotch.
Which made me very paranoid. Why did she glance at my crotch? Was there another hole? Zipper down? Spilled lunch? When we finished our conversation I went to the bathroom, completed a thorough inspection, and found the area to be secure. But then I had a bit of deja vu, and remembered the last few times I talked to Renee the same thing had happened. Was she my secret hole in the pants guardian or was it unintentional?
I decided to text my friend Deni, who was out of the office that day. My text said, "Every time I talk to Renee she glances at my crotch, which makes me paranoid that there's something going on down there." Deni knew the Holey Friday story, so I knew she would understand, crack up, and tell me to stop imagining things. I figured I'd give her a little chuckle on her day off.
About a half hour later I got a text message from Renee, which said, "I don't think you meant to send that text to me, but I didn't realize I do that, sorry."
Craaaaaaaaaaap. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I did quite a bit of both.
Today is Tuesday. The second day in the week. Should have been incident free after yesterday. But no.
Around 2:00 (what is it with that time of day?) my phone starts ringing. And it's security. My heart starts beating a little faster. Why is security calling me? Am I being fired? I automatically go through anything I may have done recently that could cause me to be in trouble (no, I am not going to list anything here. Confidential information that you are not privy to unless you partook in the activity...which were usually inappropriate lunchtime conversations...I'm pretty sure there are microphones on campus).
I answer the phone, using my casual voice. Who me? In trouble? Hah, must have the wrong person.
She told me I was parked in a reserved spot. Are you sure? I didn't even get in until 9:30 (yesterday really wore me out, I had a hard time getting up) and I had to park in the waaaay back. Must not be VIP parking. She explained that it was a 25-year employee's spot (yeah, you get a spot after you've worked there 25 years) and when I have time could I please move my car?
Sure thing boss, can do. Will move my car out of her sucky parking spot way in the back.
When I got to the parking spot, I stood there for a good five minutes. Looking around for the special plaque that indicated the spot was reserved. Nothing.
Am I being punked? Is there a camera somewhere? Is someone going to jump out and say just kidding? I'm pretty sure my work environment is entirely too serious for that type of thing.
I did not move my truck. I walked back to my desk, called the security officer who called me and left her a message. There's been some sort of mistake. I didn't park in a reserved spot. I told you it was too far away. If you tried to give me that spot I would be offended, not honored for my years of service.
At this point I'm slightly irritated and questioning my sanity when I decided to IM Joseph (his second to last day at work). He replied, "It might have been me. I thought it was weird that I got such a close spot."
Ohhhhh. That makes sense. When I first started working for this company, I registered my truck and his car in case I ever needed to take his car to work. When he started working, we never switched the information over. His car was registered under my name.
He went out and checked the spot. Yet, he was the perpetrator. He moved his car.
I debated calling the security guard back...and decided against it. We'll just let that one slide.
It has not been my week. And it's only Tuesday.
Note to self: next time I am asked if I would like a single or a tandem, get a tandem. And sit in the back, so that when my arms feel like they're going to fall off, Joseph doesn't notice that he's doing all the work.