Ever feel like you need a little comic relief? Me too.
Fortunately I don’t have to look any further than myself, not because I bubble with hilarity (though I do), but because I happen to have an extensive repertoire of embarrassing moments.
I am a piece of work.
My favorite (not the best word) embarrassing moment occurred when I was working as an administrative assistant at a very family-friendly company.
The “family-friendly” part is relevant to the story. You’ll see.
I say “family-friendly” because before I got the job, I was coached extensively on this fact by the person who recruited me for the position. Basically, I was reminded over and over and OVER again that conducting myself accordingly was of utmost importance.
Updated to add: I don’t know why I was so cryptic when I wrote this post originally. Disney, people. I was working for Disney at the time. OK, back to the story…
On the day in question, I was quite new, hoping to make a good impression and trying to go above and beyond the call of duty. I walked into the cube (cubical) of a Senior Sales Manager as was typical during the course of my day.
Notice I said cube, not office, as in, there were no walls. Imagine a very, very large, open space with dozens of employees working behind 5-foot tall partitions that do not suppress, hide, muffle or drown out sound of any kind. Also relevant to the story. You’ll see.
Anyway, so I walked into his cube and noticed his suit coat tossed carelessly over a chair in the corner. Aha! I thought. This is an excellent opportunity to prove I am a considerate, conscientious, can’t-live-without-me, fits-right-in, professional, FAMILY-FRIENDLY administrative assistant.
So I casually pointed to the coat and said, “Mark, you need a….a….”
Now, it was at this very moment that the clarity with which I had previously assessed the situation suddenly escaped me. In my head I wanted to offer to locate some type of hook or hanger on which to store his coat.
But the simple sentence so nicely put together in my brain somehow did not roll so smoothly off my lips.
In my attempt to appear calm, cool and collected as I stuttered and sputtered, the words “hook” and “hanger” got horribly mixed up in my brain and I finally (and LOUDLY…I was nervous you know) blurted out, “Mark, you need a hooker!”
Oh yes, yes I did.
I froze in horror of course, realizing how positively UN-family-friendly it was that I just suggested my boss hire a prostitute. Within earshot of about 25+ of his colleagues. Many of whom knew me as “the pastor’s wife” (people were fascinated by this for some reason).
As I begged God to add me to the ranks of Enoch and Elijah and beam me up quickly, Mark responded without missing a beat and with a casual sweep of his hand, “Oh, don’t we all.”
Um, well not exactly, but if I can’t be instantly transported to heaven, I guess I’ll take it.
Epilogue: I’m happy to report all that was lost was my pride.