Commuting Suicide
Killing myself slowly, day after day
Volume III: "Walk a Mile Without Shoes"
I was absolutely soaked on my seventeen-minute walk across town yesterday morning. My Totes umbrella was no match for the torrential rain and gale force* winds. On the elevator up, I could smell the pneumonia.
Miserable and whiny, I made two decisions. First, I couldn't make it through the day in water-logged pants. Second, parading around in my boxer briefs wouldn't suffice.
So, I hit up Modell's and bought me a cozy pair of black sweatpants, some Air Jordan socks, and their second-least expensive t-shirt (a gray Yankees "Jeter #2"). The least expensive shirt would have dissolved off my back had any droplets of water later fallen from my hair.
The new outfit, sans shoes, completely changed the office experience. People were nicer to me -- I was randomly given a new hat and two bottles of champagne. My whole area felt like a freshman dorm. People didn't have to wonder, "Is this guy serious about his job?" It was entirely obvious. And, minus that pretense, you can have some pretty good conversation with unfamiliar co-workers.
To review: All you need to better tolerate your workplace? This, that and these.
*I have no idea what "gale force" is. But my pants hadn't been this wet since I was weaned off diapers.
See Volume I and II