Don't worry, put your TiVo remotes down. No Janet Jackson-Justin Timberlake impersonation going on here. Just noticed a recent trend of malfunctions in my wardrobe at work.
Went to the gym before work. Trying to start the day with a metabolic boost.
Only one problem. Packed up all my work clothes--Salmon-colored shirt, matching tie (best I can tell), brown/tan slacks, belt, patterned brown socks, FORGOT MY DRESS SHOES.
Nice. The gym isn't right next door. And I didn't feel like losing another 20 minutes so early in the morning (plus there was a huge negative emotion associated with going back home, then retracing the path I had already taken back towards work last time I forgot my dress shoes). Yep. Embarrassed to say, this wasn't the first time this has happened to me.
So I proceeded to work accessorized (I don't think shoes are really an accessory, but I wanted so badly to use that word and I don't own a purse, man-bag, jewelry, or scarf) with my nice red Pearl Izumi running shoes. They look great--when you're wearing shorts, white socks and a T-shirt (or wife-beater if you're "that guy"). For the record--with a dress shirt, tie and slacks the red Pearl Izumis don't look quite as nice. I felt like the "keymaster" all day (you know, the character in the first Ghostbusters played by Rick Moranis with his highwater slacks and sneakers). Either that, or the night manager at a Wendy's or sporting goods store (minus the short-sleeve dress shirt).
Needless to say, "nice shoes" comments were tossed my direction all day. Thanks co-workers (and boss) for pointing it out to anyone who didn't notice on their own.
Wardrobe-related Highlight of the Workday: Taking a suit coat from a much smaller-framed co-worker (who had a job interview) and performing my version of Tommy-Boy's "fat guy in a little coat". The highlight wasn't my impersonation, it was Spencer looking at me strangely for 20 seconds and then suddenly realizing the suit jacket was his.
His response (about 20 seconds later than I'd hoped): "Is that my jacket?" (It just dawned on me. Might he have actually thought it was mine?)
Him: "OK. Now I'm just waiting to hear a tearing sound".
Thankfully I didn't complete the impersonation or I'd have had to buy a new suit for someone.
Wardrobe malfunction #2: Flying home from Boise a month or so ago on a Monday morning. Being picked up at the airport by a coworker and being taken straight to work. Belt buckle detaches itself from my belt at the Boise airport security line. Hiking my pants up and holding them with one hand the entire walk through two airports (one of them from the farthest point on the tarmac), and the stroll to my office (and every time I had to get up and sit down on the plane) in order to avoid terrified shrieks, awkward glances, and indecent exposure charges. Fortunately MacGyver here was able to round up some wire in my office (not sure why I had it) and jimmy-rig my belt so it would work for one work day.
MacGyver Side note: I failed however to fashion an explosive device out of a stick of chewing gum, an empty white-out bottle, a dry-erase marker, and an Intermountain Healthcare-branded hacky-sack.
Wardrobe malfunction #3: Two days after the belt incident, I realized during a trip to the restroom that my fly was open, even though the zipper was up. The darn zipper broke. I had to hold a folder in front of my nether-region and go from cubicle to cubicle quietly begging for safety pins. Thanks co-workers for not laughing too loudly and for having safety pins at your desk. Also thanks for the tip about putting the pants inside out before you pin the crotch shut so people can't see the safety pin. It worked much better the second go-round after your timely advice.
Interesting how many more times than normal you have to go number one in a day when you've safety pinned your pants crotch shut with five safety pins. Thank goodness for stalls in the men's room.