Friday, April 24, 2009

Flirting with disaster

I should have known better. Wearing white shirts usually ends up in disaster for me. Somehow, somewhere, some way I will put a stain on the shirt. It is why I will never wear white when going to Hooters or any Italian restaurant. Or BBQ joints. I like my ribs smothered in sauce and no plastic bib is going to protect my shirt.

When I put on the white shirt this morning I thought to myself to be careful. It is not that I am a slob. I use a lot of napkins when I eat and seem to constantly be cleaning my face as I progress through a meal. Maybe I am too careful and by being so I cause something to drop.

I made it through the morning. Wasn't sloppy with my coffee. Didn't have a drop of cranberry juice touch me. Still had a Clorox white going.

That was until lunch came. No, I didn't dribble something down the shirt. I got some pea soup and was carrying the tray back to my desk. I guess I had filled the soup a little too high as I stopped abruptly to avoid the person coming through the door. The jolt caused the soup to spill out and onto my finger. As I winced in a bit of pain I noticed a flick hit the shirt.

Mothafokker!

Still holding the tray there was nothing I could immediately do. I got in the elevator and went to my floor. I set the tray down on the bubbler outside the men's room and went in. I scrubbed with the towel and did the best job I could. I could still see a faint shade of green. Damn. Worst part is when I get home and take the shirt off I probably won't remember the stain and wash it without any treatment and risk setting it in forever.

No wonder I am going to go sit in a bar and watch baseball for the majority of the night.

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