Many moons ago I blogged about being forgetful with regards to my fly. My hope was that this was one of those isolated incidents. I guess I didn't hope enough.
About three weeks ago I was invited to a meeting that included several people from my department's top leadership. While I am not an image person, I still realize that I can't be a complete buffoon around them.
As a side note, I have this phobia/fear that I will be in a meeting with some big shots, and have the human "2 minute warning" hit me. So, I make it a point to take care of all my business prior to any big meeting. (I am guessing you are sensing where this is going).
Flash back to 15 minutes before the meeting. I walk over to the building where the meeting is being held. I then use the bathroom directly outside the "leadership zone". I did this in case there was any noise or residual aroma. Another phobia is walking out of a stall where I just completely blitzed the surrounding air, only to see the department's VP...coming out of the stall next to me.
Anyway, I went from the bathroom, around a corner and into the special big room with thick carpeting where the meeting was being held. There were already several of the major players in the room. Since I seem to have a bit of a reputation in my department (go figure), just about everyone looked up when I entered and gave me a standard SUP? (or something like that). Sort of boosted my ego a little. They know me.
Well, as is always the case, whenever I start to experience a little pride, my guardian angel brings me back to earth. This time was no exception. I sat down next to a Director I know. It was then I felt it....the cold breeze below "the equator" that tells me the door is not only unlocked, but is wide open.
A quick glance down verified my worst fears. I had, in fact, strolled into a meeting with leadership, sporting an open barn door. Damn damn damn.
Of course, my next challenge was how to discretely close said barn door. I ended up pretending to drop a pen. Then, in a series of synchronized moves, I used my left hand to close the door, while distracting with my right hand. Looking back, my little act likely attracted a lot more attention than if I had simply reached done and zipped my fly.
Sometimes I am such a dork. Ok, almost all the time I am a dork.
OK, I am a dork.
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