I heard a commercial on the radio yesterday that jogged a highly repressed memory of something that I can honestly tag as one of my more embarrassing moments. So, in honor of TBT (throw back Thursday) I’m going to dish on this awkward little on-going calamity I had with a former boss.
When I was pregnant with W I got assigned to help roll out this great big state project. The project manager assigned for this deal was a Californian who came to Baltimore a couple times a week. He was pretty chill, youngish, healthy-granola style and we meshed ok. You guys know what I mean by that, right? Example he stayed in a hotel in the Inner Harbor and actually went jogging around the Harbor at night. Like HELLO, do you have a death wish? Who goes running around the Inner Harbor at night? Well, maybe he was a super-fast runner and knew he could out run a stab attempt?? I digress…
So, one fine day when we were talking shop he randomly asked me where some good topless bars were. Though odd, I took it in stride and offered the names of some locations my brother had frequented and I knew were popular with C’s friends. I have some delusions of grandeur when it comes to Cali so I wanted to give this guy the benefit of the doubt. Plus, I always hear Cali is very liberal and though I probably don’t know exactly what that means – who knows, maybe they don’t have sexual harassment and stuff out there seeing as how everyone is famous and awesomely tan? Plus, being like 8 months pregnant I knew this wasn’t a come-on he just wanted to know where he could see some boobs. He was obviously lonely.
Fast forward a couple weeks later and I am in a meeting in his office running through some project data. In walks the administrator (my boss’s boss’s boss – like high up there boss man) we say our hello’s and he goes right into talking topless bars with Cali transplant project manager. Interesting. We are friendly, he once gave me a holiday mix tape (he gave lots of people holiday mix tapes but I felt cool to be on the short list) but this was a new level of work friendship. Nor did I realize how conversational and normal it was to eat dinner with co-workers at topless bars. Anyway, that’s being a pregnant girl in a man’s world, right? The Administrator starts rambling about how amazing the food is at this one specific location, though small portions, and complaining it was so dark he couldn’t see what he was eating. Well duh it’s dark, who wants to see cellulite right? They turn to me and ask my opinion about Croquetas, jerked from my musings on cellulite I stutter and fumble and somehow Nightshift maybe came out of my mouth, I can’t recall the specifics the aftermath was so humiliating. The administrator gives me a weird look and bids us farewell and exits quickly stage left. Cali project manager also has a weird face and asks what Nightshift is. The heat that radiated off my face must have sealed my fate before the dubious explanation of Nightshifts endeavors because Cali project manager was laughing like a Hyena on crack. WTF was going on.
They say you learn something new every day. That specific day I learned about Tapas. Tapas – a wide variety of appetizers, or snacks. Which apparently may be eaten in dimly lit facilities not to be confused with Topless Bars. Luckily Cali project manager did not take my suggestions to patronize any of the facilities I suggested. Lesson Learned.