In past years, the annual Snooze-Fest (aka the Annual Meeting for the Senior Neurological Society Administrators) has convened in some great cities: funky, vibrant, Portland, and beautiful Salt Lake City to name some recent places.
This year the meeting planners finally found a city that matched the boringness of the meeting: Baaaahston, Massachusetts. Okay, I'm sure every Baaahstonian now wants to call me out for insinuating that their city is anything less than Excitement A -Go Go, so let me make this clear: I am not insinuating that Baaahston is boring, I am saying it quite bluntly. And for any Baaaahstonians who want to make a big deal of this, I will save you some time and effort. Physical violence isn't necessary. Talk to me for five minutes with those Gaaahdam accents and I will cry uncle.
Full disclosure: I didn't much enjoy Baaaahston because I didn't want to go anyway. It was not a great time for me to be out of town, so I admittedly saw everything through a jaudiced eye. I was sooooo not into this trip that all I took with me was a laptop from work, a change of clothing and some toiletries stuffed into a computer bag.
Sounds stringent, I know, but I was so happy that I packed lightly when got to my hotel room. The group was booked into an expensive hotel downtown, but I swear, the whole place smelled like a sweaty sock filled with last week's hard boiled eggs. I immediately developed an absolute certainty that the place was full of bedbugs. Bedbugs! The very thought of a bedbug makes my skin crawl.
When I finally returned home, I scooped all of my clothes out of the computer bag and immediately threw them in the washer. The computer bag, with the computer, stayed in my car with the fervent hope that any creepy crawly thing would be exterminated by, I don't know, an Act of God, or something.
A week goes by. There have been no bite marks, nothing itchy, so I feel fairly certain that there were no bedbugs after all. That's a good thing, as Dr. Lifesaver needs the laptop back in the office. So one shiny day last week, I returned the lap top to him with the good news that the laptop might have viruses, but no bedbugs!!
"Uh-huh. Yeah. You can just put it on the couch," he said, not even bothering to ask for an explanation. After seven years of working with me, no explanations are warranted. That's the way he likes it.
Ten minutes later, Dr. Lifesaver comes out of his office, computer bag in hand, and says to me, "I have to run to the OR. Can you download some files for me?"
Sure, boss. So I take the computer out of the computer bag and.....I was right. No bedbugs attached. But what attached to the laptop was a pair of my PANTIES!!!
Can you imagine?
I will go through the rest of my life believing that Dr. Lifesaver did NOT open the bag and see those panties. It's the only way I can face him, day and day.
I swear, I wish it had been merely bedbugs.