So yesterday my boss comes flying into my cube at like 11:40 -- she's been in a meeting with a Mystery Client all morning. "Have you eaten? Can you be bribed?" she asks.
Me, and free food? Uh, yes. Now, we work in Roseville where there are approximately 5,000 restaurants within a 3-mile radius. But for some crazy reason, Susan and the Mystery Client just had to have Panera. Panera's good and all, but the closest one is practically in downtown Minneapolis. At best, a 10- or 15-minute drive.
But I hop in my car and tear off, my mind filled with all the brownie points I'm earning, and the free lunch I'm getting. And I don't even mind shelling out a quarter for meter parking, or trotting across the city street in my 4" heels, or standing in a line 50-persons-long to order my sandwich. I finally get my food (three sandwiches, one lemonade and six cookies (apparently Mystery Client requires MANY cookies) for the low, low price of $28.13!!) and drive BACK to Roseville.
And I'm dashing down the freeway at 70 MPH and I realize that in order to avoid the embarrassing scene of "Gee, which sandwich is mine?" when I arrive at the office, I'd better take MY sandwich out of the large brown paper sack. So (still driving) I grab the topmost sandwich, and as soon as I have it up out of the bag and over my lap...
And there is sammy EVERYWHERE. My (black) skirt is covered in flakes of cheese, shredded lettuce, tomatoes, friggin' "artisan" bread chunks and mayonnaisey chicken.
Oh... and I had ordered the roast beef.
So I am swearing and laughing and crying and SWEARING and still driving and I have NO idea how I'm going to re-assemble this sandwich so it even faintly resembles the Handcrafted Delicacy which I'm sure Mystery Client is expecting.
I pull into the lot and try to cram the sandwich back together, and get the Artisan Bread with its fancy diagonal cut re-aligned with the other unscathed sandwich half, and wrap the mess in the paper wrapping, and wrap my coat around my mayonnaisey skirt and head on into the conference room.
Where I smoothly and professionally place the bag on the table, then turn tail and run.
And the roast beef wasn't even that good.