The Professional Woman

Having a high powered career and a house full of children at the same time is never easy. Having a husband who is always out in the field with the military or collapsed on the couch from exhaustion makes the situation even tenser. The combination of five active children aged 12 and under, a military husband, and a very stressful technical career made my life too busy and complex, and led to a Most Embarrassing Moment.

Our company constantly competed with other technical companies in the nation’s capital, seeking the best and biggest of the ever-so-profitable engineering contracts. We’d been warned: a potential client would be in town, touring our office building and meeting potential contractors. Heads up, they said: If you like your job, look lively. Dress to impress. Be on your best behavior. And be on site by 7 a.m., just in case.

Bright eyed and bushy tailed, I was not. The husband was in town for a few days, and the kids were there usual active selves. One of the others always had a cold or a tummy bug, and today was no different. By the time I got to work at 7 a.m., I was profoundly uncomfortable. The husband had tried to take up some of the slack by lugging an emergency load of clothes to the laundromat. The heat, however, had shrunk them; none of my clothes fit quite right that morning.

My job was in the very bowels of the Pentagon, the deep, dark area that could easily have held the Ark of the Covenant, if you remember Indiana Jones. It was dirty, poorly lit, and in our case unavoidable. Our files were there, we had to have them, no avoiding it.

Needless to say, this was no place for a pencil shirt and blouse with a bow. No, this was a place for jeans and a blazer. The company recognized this; as long as I had heels and the blouse with a bow, the jeans were fine. In honor of our potential visitors, and despite the early hour, I showed up at the office with a fancy shirt, high heels, and the ever present but mysteriously ill-fitting jeans. Later, after putting in the requisite appearance, I would go back to the pit for the rest of the day. But for now. It was time to put on a smile and meet our potential employers.

I stepped into the elevator. No one else was on board. Click. Click. Click. Finally, the ninth floor. I stepped out with a sigh, as ready to start the day as I could be. And there they were. Six delegates from a foreign nation that wanted the best technical skills money could buy. Yes, that was me. It was just my luck they were arranged in a semi-circle right outside of the elevator door.

Putting on my game face, I took a step out of the elevator, reaching out my hand to shake with our potential co-contractors, all male.

Suddenly, my jeans fit better.

WHAT THE HECK?

Yes indeedy. The gentlemen looked from one to another, speaking in their own language and clearly giggling. Yes, GIGGLING. Have you ever seen businessmen in $3000 suits giggling? I have. Our vice president looked like he was going to explode. He tried to steer the gentlemen away but the refused to budge.

One of the younger men looked down, looked up at me, and then pointed to the floor between my feet. Oh my. There was a pair of scanty black lace panties. Clearly they had been stuck in the leg of the jeans after the laundry was done, and equally clearly they had worked their way out. I must have turned 50 shades and I don’t mean grey.

I reached down, scooped them up, stuck them in my pocket, shook everyone’s hand, and took off down the stairs. Behind me, I could hear the vice president’s voice as he ordered me to see him in his office. I took off anyway. It was the last time my husband did my laundry.

Ah yes. Life’s little moments.