My old friend, Jim, called this morning. I've known him for 15 years -- we worked together at two different companies -- the ORGANIZATION THAT DOES NOT HATE FREEDOM and an Internet start-up. I always fondly referred to Jim as my "best girlfriend" because that's the kind of relationship we had. (And also because he and his best friend, Keith, used to wear matching outfits to parties...but hey...what guy doesn't from time to time?)
When we worked for the start-up, Jim and I did a lot of presentations together, and it worked well because we had been friends for so long and had a natural rapport. We had one particular presentation in Atlanta that required us to speak in front of a group of about 100 people. We got to the meeting room early and set up and ran through the presentation and were all ready to go...looking professional, feeling prepared, ready to do a great job on this.
We began our presentation that morning, and it was great -- we had really hit our stride and had the natural back and forth that made it all seem so effortless. However, about midway through this presentation, something happened with Jim's computer and he had to re-boot. He was working with the computer and I continued to present, occasionally looking back at the huge screen to see if he had found our place in the presentation yet.
As the computer came back on, he began searching for the file with our presentation, and as he did, a folder came up with two files in it -- one titled "Presentation" and one titled "Nose Picker" -- yes, "Nose Picker."
So, in a room full of a hundred people, with "Nose Picker" in letters three feet tall behind me, I continued with my presentation.
The company ultimately went bankrupt. Surprised?
How have you never shared that story with me? And do you have any video of this?
I could not even look at Jim because I knew I would burst out laughing. Turns out a friend of his had sent him some kind of joke through e-mail and he had saved the attachment...fatefully, in the same folder as our presentation. We both agreed later that it would have been much less humiliating had it been something x-rated..."nose picker" just seems so juvenile.
Well I used to work with someone who would pick her nose in meetings (I am not going to gross you out by relaying the fact that she ate them, which she typically did--those and the nits from her head that she'd mine). She ultimately left the company not entirely of her own will.
I am beginning to see a pattern and will immediately stop picking my nose in professional environments.
Tard - I am so happy I received that comment while eating lunch. (gag reflex)
Was it always a race to see who would be last into the meeting that would have to sit next to her? Did everyone refuse to shake hands? Did you get extra offended if she refused a dish you brought to a pot luck because she "didn't care for it?"...
For legal reasons I will stop commenting on this topic and tell you later in person.
Teaser: after she left she began doing catering.
Tard - Egad. Of course I cannot wait to hear the story.
Please stop with the hate speech.
Have you all considered a three way -- blog, I mean? Sometimes I enjoy the tante tard canedo tag teaming comments as much as the blog post. It's like you're in your own little world of peeps-swingers-cornholing-collage-girls-fill-in-the-blank.
Just a thought.
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