LASTINGFor my job, I’m supposed to appear somewhat put together.  I do my best to comply, but for those of you who know me, you realize this is nothing but a facade.  If you look at the man behind the curtain, you will find me in Pajama Jeans without a bra eating Chipotle and ordering random items from QVC

Even though I try to keep up appearances at work, I’m basically just a bunch of smoke and mirrors in an attempt to keep people from knowing the real me.  (P.S.  I think they know…)  Come to think of it, if I glanced in the mirror every so often, I probably would do a better job of keeping the lies going.

We recently hired a new employee in another city and last week I met with him and a few other employees from out of town.  We had a client dinner that night and wanted to meet before dinner to have a few beers.  The beers were partly to recover from a long day at work, and partly to numb my feet from the pain my shoes would cause from a night attempting to look professional.  (It didn’t work…the numbing of the feet or my looking professional.)

We met at the executive suite at a ritzy hotel where my coworkers were staying.  (We’re a pretty big deal….and they found a great bargain on Orbitz.)  I felt fancy because I had to be buzzed into the special suite even though I had a mysterious stain on the right boob of my dress.

This remains an unsolved mystery but I will continue to wear the dress and pretend like it just happened and I didn’t know about it.

When I say I had to be buzzed in, I don’t mean I had to be buzzed to get in, although my regular readers wouldn’t be wrong to make that assumption.  Rather, I had to prove I was important enough to be in the executive suite (the hotel staff clearly didn’t read my blog and didn’t know what a big deal I am).

I met my coworkers and we immediately began chatting and drinking our beers.  I tried to come off to the new employee as put together and professional.  He didn’t need to find out about me…at least not yet.  As we talked, I felt something poking me in the back of my neck.  Since I was sitting on a couch that probably cost a year of my mortgage payments, I knew it wasn’t the sofa.  I felt my neck and realized there was something large poking me.  What kind of irritant was it?

I grabbed the object and pulled it around to further investigate.  Because I can’t do anything quietly, my coworkers (and a couple other lucky suite-goers) watched in anticipation as I pulled the phantom item out from behind my neck.  And there it was…the large price tag to my necklace…the necklace I’d been wearing all day.

Seriously?!  I wore the necklace all day with the price tag on it?  And it wasn’t just a small tag with only the price and bar code.  Of course not.  It was one of those large tags that has a hangy thing to hang the necklace from a rack.  (That’s the technical term…”hangy thing.”)

I would like to say I was mortified, but I wasn’t.  I was actually pretty impressed that I went an entire work day without noticing my Minnie Pearl fashion statement, or the fact that something was digging into my neck all day.  I ripped off the tag and put it on the table for all the executive suiters to see.

I couldn’t have been prouder…because I bought the necklace at Kohl’s and the price tag suggested the necklace was expensive.  (They didn’t need to know I bought it with coupons and Kohl’s cash.)

As I stared at the price tag that had become part of my outfit for the day, I thought about what my new coworker must think of me.  Did he think I was an idiot?  Did he think I was crazy?  And then I realized something: of course he didn’t.  He thought I was a high roller because I bought a sassy necklace at Kohl’s.  Win!

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