CoWorker came in this morning carrying many many bags.
He was also carrying a plush stuffed animal, a neon green alien with big black cat's eyes; but because his hands were full, he'd shoved the 14-inch plush alien stuffy down the front of his pants.*
He was so nonchalant about it that my first thought was,
One of his kids must have stuffed it in there while he was in a distracted moment; and, because he is a very busy individual with a lot on his mind, he has simply failed to notice the 14-inch plush alien stuffy in his pants.**
And initially, I was reluctant even to let my eyes fall upon it, let alone mention it, lest it be a source of embarassment for both of us.***
But poor taste prevailed. Who could resist a Mae West moment?
I daresay, he actually seemed relieved that someone had finally broken the ice about it.****
~ ~ ~
* ... at least, I'm assuming it's because his hands were full...
** In fact, a one-sentence description of his personality would probably go something like, "He is the type of man who would not notice he was sharing his pants with a plush alien stuffy."
*** Your fly is open. And your plush alien stuffy is showing.
**** "Why, yes, this IS a 14-inch plush alien stuffy down my pants, thank~you for asking. It's part of my recovery from the surgery / my twelve~step program / my strategy to get promoted / my side career as a public advertising space / Bring~Your~Kid~To~Work Day."
Posted by edgar at August 20, 2003 09:06 AM