So, Thursday was exhausting, but today, this lovely Friday, I felt like the worst was behind me. I arrived at work on schedule and had already stopped at the store to pick up gift cards that the visiting VIP asked me to purchase. I chit-chatted with New Boss for a few minutes and then started in on my work.
Not surprisingly, I had two emails that sent me over the edge. Dealing with stupid situations first thing in the morning is never the way to kick off the day. Then, the phone rings. It is a representative from the company that services our copy machines. The rep wants to know if the service request I put in on January 15th was worked as I had requested. I was dead quiet for just a moment. Today is March 27th. I finally answered her, "I don't really remember a lot about January, to be honest. I would like to believe that, by now, he has come and serviced the machine. And, since I've been using it without incident and I'm the one that puts service requests in, I'm guessing he must have come in January." She said, "Okay, well we are just checking." Wow, must be a slow day for her if she is checking on what happened in January. Wish I had that kind of time.
Just then, Sassy Pants came over to say good morning. We decided that I needed a moment away from my desk, so we went to get water and stop by the bathroom. We took care of the call from nature (to be clear, we went pee) and then were standing at the sink washing our hands when I noticed that my zipper was down. Well, that's odd, I thought I zipped that up. I go to pull it up and realize, my zipper is broken. A moment of panic as I am fumbling around with the zipper. The whole bottom of the zipper just came apart. Well, SHIT! I have the VIP's waiting at my desk and here I am with my vagina with a window to the world. Sassy Pants was not empathetic, compassionate or helpful at this moment. You know why? Because she was laughing. Today I had even worn a top that only just barely covered my waist band. My dilemma was obvious for the world to see! Mother Trucker! I frantically worked the zipper, begging it to re-align. But no, that frigging zipper was not going to work with me. Sassy Pants suggested that I go into the stall, take off my pants and that I may have better luck fixing it. Son of a bitch. I go in there and removed my pants muttering and cussing the whole time about how exposed I was just standing there in my underwear fighting with a pair of pants made in some third world country by a toddler. Damn you, Old Navy! I got these pants, fair and square off the clearance rack for $11. WHO would have seen this drama unfolding? Bastards. I prayed, begged, cussed and when that didn't work, I went on a crazy rant about how I can't believe Old Navy did this to me and how I was going to be showing my vagina off all day and what the hell was I supposed to do, etc.
Finally, I got the zipper to re-align and ever so gently pulled my cheap-ass Old Navy jeans back up. I walked out of the stall and thought Sassy Pants had left me because it was so quiet, but no, there she was by the sink laughing so hard that she was not making noise and her face was completely red. When she finally came up for air, she said, "I wish I had thought to record that." Yes, that is what I needed, my vulnerable moment caught on video. I stood there in front of the mirror, nervous. Would the zipper make it out in public? I asked Sassy Pants what I should do. Should I just hold my hand there, like I had cramps? Should I put my thumb in my waistband and hold my hand flat against my belly like I was a gangsta? I came up with a few plausible poses. One of which was this one.
We decided this might just work. After a few more poses, I decided on doing a swagger, like I was a Texan just walking from the OK Corral. Seemed legit. I mean, I have horses and boots at home. Perhaps it may make people wonder just what transpired in stall number one, but they sure wouldn't be looking at my zipper.
With reassured confidence, Sassy Pants and I set out to make the trek back to my desk. The zipper seemed to be holding up. I had a message from New Boss flashing on my screen. I wrote back that I was sorry, but I had been unexpectedly detained in stall one with my pants off. She asked if I needed to go shopping for new pants. I told her I was going to see how this went, but to please tell me if I had any extra body parts showing.
The day continued with events that made my head spin. Valerina came down and took me to lunch. She said she was worried that if I didn't leave, there would be a hostage situation. We went, grabbed a bite and returned. Again, I was worried about the zipper, it felt kind of baggy in the front. I showed her my sample poses that might work to detract from the zipper situation. I showed her my best gangster, which on any given day is the whitest of white, middle aged woman looking ridiculous. I even tried it with sunglasses this time.
Let's not talk about what the two fingers even mean or represent. Mostly, they are a distraction. I think.
Anyway, made it back in the building without any drama. About an hour later, Sassy Pants returns to my desk. It's time to go to the bathroom again. I hadn't been back since this morning's incident. I think she was secretly hoping for more drama. That sick bitch. We go in there and I ever so gingerly pull my pants down, but I was not easy enough. Mother Trucker. Here we go again, round two with the Old Navy slave labor pants. I was not amused. I went on a screeching monkey rant. I was going to write Old Navy a letter and tell them what bastards I thought they were for leaving a fat girl trapped in the bathroom like that. Clearly they support violating the rights of private body parts. I finally got the zipper in check again and come out of the stall when I see Sassy Pants standing there with her phone on recording my rant.
Oh, Sassy Pants, you are Hi-Lar-ious. Well, whatever, this wouldn't be the first meltdown captured on film.
Having battled the zipper a second time, I do manage to finish the day without exposing my lotus flower to the world. I head home and remember that I told Suction Sister she can have her debut party at my house. That's right, for those of you that read about Sexy Time at Mom's House, you know all about those kind of parties. I think it will be okay. I mean, I'll pour a mudslide, listen to Suction Sister talk about lotion, lube and "adult novelties" and it will be okay. AND, I will get to heckle her. Sounds like the perfect end to a day.
As luck would have it, only a couple people showed up. That meant more one on one attention and sampling of products. If you read my last blog about the last party, you know I was dying to put Mr. Dependable to the suction test. I mean, I didn't want to ride him personally, I just wanted to stick him to whatever surface I could and see how strong he was. For no other reason than the fact that I am fascinated by this big purple...thing that you can just suction to wherever you want it. I suppose some people would like that or want that, but I seriously just wanted to see if it would fall off wherever you put it. Think about it, some poor lonely girl suctions it to the washing machine and gets bucked off. That's a tragic tale, right? How do you explain that in the ER? Riding accident? I don't know and I'm not gonna know, but curious nonetheless. Suction Sister would not let me try him out for most of the party, but by the end, I think we had wore her down. I put that thing on the window, the washing machine, the mirror, the shower, the microwave the stove and even to a wooden chair. The suction was AMAZING, you had to get both hands on that thing and I'm pretty sure I almost pulled our window out of the frame. I mean, I don't need this product, I have Shark Bait, but, I think if Suction Sister is going to market this thing, she needs to know what it is capable of. I have pictures of all the places I put it in the house, but I will refrain from posting it to my blog. As funny as I find it, I know some people would cringe. It's just a big purple...thing, I mean, really.
Anyway, it turned out that a drink, some heckling and advanced knowledge of product suction was just what this girl needed to wrap up her Friday.
Now, tomorrow, I will likely find myself shopping for new jeans. I can't take anymore zipper drama. I need to lock and load the lotus flower.
Have a great weekend, all, and please, do yourself a favor, check your zipper.
Not surprisingly, I had two emails that sent me over the edge. Dealing with stupid situations first thing in the morning is never the way to kick off the day. Then, the phone rings. It is a representative from the company that services our copy machines. The rep wants to know if the service request I put in on January 15th was worked as I had requested. I was dead quiet for just a moment. Today is March 27th. I finally answered her, "I don't really remember a lot about January, to be honest. I would like to believe that, by now, he has come and serviced the machine. And, since I've been using it without incident and I'm the one that puts service requests in, I'm guessing he must have come in January." She said, "Okay, well we are just checking." Wow, must be a slow day for her if she is checking on what happened in January. Wish I had that kind of time.
Just then, Sassy Pants came over to say good morning. We decided that I needed a moment away from my desk, so we went to get water and stop by the bathroom. We took care of the call from nature (to be clear, we went pee) and then were standing at the sink washing our hands when I noticed that my zipper was down. Well, that's odd, I thought I zipped that up. I go to pull it up and realize, my zipper is broken. A moment of panic as I am fumbling around with the zipper. The whole bottom of the zipper just came apart. Well, SHIT! I have the VIP's waiting at my desk and here I am with my vagina with a window to the world. Sassy Pants was not empathetic, compassionate or helpful at this moment. You know why? Because she was laughing. Today I had even worn a top that only just barely covered my waist band. My dilemma was obvious for the world to see! Mother Trucker! I frantically worked the zipper, begging it to re-align. But no, that frigging zipper was not going to work with me. Sassy Pants suggested that I go into the stall, take off my pants and that I may have better luck fixing it. Son of a bitch. I go in there and removed my pants muttering and cussing the whole time about how exposed I was just standing there in my underwear fighting with a pair of pants made in some third world country by a toddler. Damn you, Old Navy! I got these pants, fair and square off the clearance rack for $11. WHO would have seen this drama unfolding? Bastards. I prayed, begged, cussed and when that didn't work, I went on a crazy rant about how I can't believe Old Navy did this to me and how I was going to be showing my vagina off all day and what the hell was I supposed to do, etc.
Finally, I got the zipper to re-align and ever so gently pulled my cheap-ass Old Navy jeans back up. I walked out of the stall and thought Sassy Pants had left me because it was so quiet, but no, there she was by the sink laughing so hard that she was not making noise and her face was completely red. When she finally came up for air, she said, "I wish I had thought to record that." Yes, that is what I needed, my vulnerable moment caught on video. I stood there in front of the mirror, nervous. Would the zipper make it out in public? I asked Sassy Pants what I should do. Should I just hold my hand there, like I had cramps? Should I put my thumb in my waistband and hold my hand flat against my belly like I was a gangsta? I came up with a few plausible poses. One of which was this one.
 | ||||
| Look at me, my zipper isn't broke, I'm just getting down with my bad self. |
With reassured confidence, Sassy Pants and I set out to make the trek back to my desk. The zipper seemed to be holding up. I had a message from New Boss flashing on my screen. I wrote back that I was sorry, but I had been unexpectedly detained in stall one with my pants off. She asked if I needed to go shopping for new pants. I told her I was going to see how this went, but to please tell me if I had any extra body parts showing.
The day continued with events that made my head spin. Valerina came down and took me to lunch. She said she was worried that if I didn't leave, there would be a hostage situation. We went, grabbed a bite and returned. Again, I was worried about the zipper, it felt kind of baggy in the front. I showed her my sample poses that might work to detract from the zipper situation. I showed her my best gangster, which on any given day is the whitest of white, middle aged woman looking ridiculous. I even tried it with sunglasses this time.
Let's not talk about what the two fingers even mean or represent. Mostly, they are a distraction. I think.
Anyway, made it back in the building without any drama. About an hour later, Sassy Pants returns to my desk. It's time to go to the bathroom again. I hadn't been back since this morning's incident. I think she was secretly hoping for more drama. That sick bitch. We go in there and I ever so gingerly pull my pants down, but I was not easy enough. Mother Trucker. Here we go again, round two with the Old Navy slave labor pants. I was not amused. I went on a screeching monkey rant. I was going to write Old Navy a letter and tell them what bastards I thought they were for leaving a fat girl trapped in the bathroom like that. Clearly they support violating the rights of private body parts. I finally got the zipper in check again and come out of the stall when I see Sassy Pants standing there with her phone on recording my rant.
(not sure if this link will work since is on a certain someone's page)
Oh, Sassy Pants, you are Hi-Lar-ious. Well, whatever, this wouldn't be the first meltdown captured on film.
Having battled the zipper a second time, I do manage to finish the day without exposing my lotus flower to the world. I head home and remember that I told Suction Sister she can have her debut party at my house. That's right, for those of you that read about Sexy Time at Mom's House, you know all about those kind of parties. I think it will be okay. I mean, I'll pour a mudslide, listen to Suction Sister talk about lotion, lube and "adult novelties" and it will be okay. AND, I will get to heckle her. Sounds like the perfect end to a day.
As luck would have it, only a couple people showed up. That meant more one on one attention and sampling of products. If you read my last blog about the last party, you know I was dying to put Mr. Dependable to the suction test. I mean, I didn't want to ride him personally, I just wanted to stick him to whatever surface I could and see how strong he was. For no other reason than the fact that I am fascinated by this big purple...thing that you can just suction to wherever you want it. I suppose some people would like that or want that, but I seriously just wanted to see if it would fall off wherever you put it. Think about it, some poor lonely girl suctions it to the washing machine and gets bucked off. That's a tragic tale, right? How do you explain that in the ER? Riding accident? I don't know and I'm not gonna know, but curious nonetheless. Suction Sister would not let me try him out for most of the party, but by the end, I think we had wore her down. I put that thing on the window, the washing machine, the mirror, the shower, the microwave the stove and even to a wooden chair. The suction was AMAZING, you had to get both hands on that thing and I'm pretty sure I almost pulled our window out of the frame. I mean, I don't need this product, I have Shark Bait, but, I think if Suction Sister is going to market this thing, she needs to know what it is capable of. I have pictures of all the places I put it in the house, but I will refrain from posting it to my blog. As funny as I find it, I know some people would cringe. It's just a big purple...thing, I mean, really.
Anyway, it turned out that a drink, some heckling and advanced knowledge of product suction was just what this girl needed to wrap up her Friday.
Now, tomorrow, I will likely find myself shopping for new jeans. I can't take anymore zipper drama. I need to lock and load the lotus flower.
Have a great weekend, all, and please, do yourself a favor, check your zipper.
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