It all started very innocent you see…
...then one day, my brains fell out on the floor by my feet.
That's right...I lost my mind.
I was starting a new position, and I was pleased to learn I would be working down the hall from a fellow I had attended high school with.
We had weight training class together, way back when.
My guess…he would never remember me.
Fast forward 15 years from our high school weight training room. The aroma of sweat no longer wafting through the air…I’m standing in his office and we had just finished a passionate discussion about customer service.
I was pumped.
And then everything changed.
Like a stranger in the night…the village idiot that lives within me, emerged and took human form right before my astonished subconscious.
I can see it like it was yesterday…before I could gather my wits…my body went into motion.
I turned on my heel…flattened my palm…whipped my hand back…and fully committed to the weight room fanny smack!
Oh…I went all in.
As I watched my hand reach its apex, with a swiftness that was quite impressive, I remember thinking to myself...
Oh I’m in big trouble…
There was no stopping the momentum.
Before a sane thought entered my brain, my weight room auto-pilot of 15 years prior kicked in...AND...swung my fully-extended-hand down with tremendous, yet elegant force.
Back in the weight room days…my hand (aimed directly at his toosh), would normally have hit gym shorts. Bingo, and a total no biggie when you're in high school...right?
I would have done a typical 16-year-old, follow-up high five…and bounced off to the locker room.
Ahem...back to my reality of standing in his office.
It was at this moment….right before my hand landed on his backside…I knew I had passed a point of no return. I had crossed over to some mysterious dark side that allowed time to slow down so I could experience this professional nightmare in slow motion.
There was no time for mid-air-adjustments, so I clenched my teeth and my subconscious braced for impact just as my hand landed squarely where his butt should have been.
(pause for effect.)
This former football player, unbeknownst to me...had FLAT, non-existent buns. Which by the way, you totally can’t tell when he’s wearing a suit jacket.
In a half-a-heartbeat, I realized in horror... I grossly misjudged my landing.
My out of body experience with my internal village idiot…finished as a very awkward fanny slap -->that was more like a butt-crack-push.
(Yes, you heard me right...can you imagine how uncomfortable that was in his office?)
The impact was a little low, and lasted about 2 seconds longer than would have been appropriate during any sporting event.
He had the tiniest, flattest “suit clad tukas” I had ever slapped.
I’m sure the whole experience gave him enough time to wonder if I was making some weird pass at him.
As I quickly, and discreetly I might add, removed my hand from his nether regions, I weakly reached for the door handle of his office. I walked through his door, never...ever, to step foot in his office again.
Was I a wimp to avoid him? Yep. Totally. We'll blame it on my professional immaturity!
Remember, it's not what's on your calendar next week. It's what you're inspired to do in the next hour that can change your life.
**Images (man & woman from my 123rf acct.)