In case you can't tell by the picture I have bravely posted, I'm no supermodel. There are the sausage legs. Breasts that only look perky when they're inside a Victoria's Secret bra. A gut. Therefore, believe me when I say I am not using this image to stir feelings of lust or desire among the Internet elite. Instead, it is proof that I have the common sense of a moose. (But please don't call me a moose or I swear to God I will cry.) That is the only way I can explain why, at 12:30 in this afternoon, I found my private parts splattered with white-out.
Thanks to Luke, I was properly armed with a Tide to-go stick, but all it did was...actually, it did nothing, so I stayed close to my desk for the rest of the afternoon, because honestly, who wants to see their flabby co-worker's nether regions marked like small countries on a world map? The few times I had to venture away from the confines of my cubicle led to what I thought was an obligatory acknowledgement of the white-out, because nobody wants to be That Girl Who Totally Pretended She Didn't Have White-Out All Over Her Damn Self.
As evidenced by this and the spaghetti sauce incident, it's probably best that I either arrive for work in a full-sized body bib or abandon office environments altogether to work at home.
...thanks for the laugh...I totally know how you feel. I had a nectarine at my desk today, and the juice splotched on my nice, white blouse....today's the only day I've ever worn a name tag-strategically placed to the right of my left breast...
Posted by: Anonymous | August 01, 2005 at 10:00 PM
Sorry the Tide To-Go didn't work, but it's just detergent in a marker. There's only so much it can do. However, you can go here to tell the company just how it did not save the day.
Posted by: Luke | August 01, 2005 at 10:39 PM
I just spilled about half a bottle of white out all over my hand and arm.
I can't get it to come off.
Freakin' karma.
Posted by: Becky | August 05, 2005 at 11:39 AM