It's Getting Hot in Herre

A few weeks ago, I went into work, and discovered that the heat was blasting. Usually in the winter, our office mates counter the blasting heat by blasting the air conditioning. (That’s energy efficiency for you.) That particular day, however, I learned that the air conditioning was broken and so it was sweltering in the cubicles. My co-workers coped by taking off their sweaters and wearing their t-shirts or shells. I was wearing a turtleneck cotton sweater with, alas, nothing under it. While I was warm, it actually wasn’t too intolerable. Usually I’m freezing at work since the air condition is blasting even on days when it is 10 degrees out, so I almost found the change to be pleasant.

I was sitting at my desk working up a mild sweat (both literally and figuratively) when my three co-workers gathered at my cubicle, smirking. “Suzanne,” one of them said, “we know this sounds like sexual harassment, but we swear it is not meant to be. We think you should take your shirt off like the rest of us. You need to fit in.” Seriously, I adore my co-workers. Hands down they are the best thing about my job at this point. So I told them that I’d be glad to, but once I took my shirt off, I feared that they would charge me with sexual harassment. Or their eyes might fall out in horror. Or worse, both. We spent the rest of the day making snide little remarks about topless employees. It was great.

This little incident came to mind today as I was reflecting on the wonderful burlesque show I saw last night, hosted by Scottie the Blue Bunny. Anyway, as is the case with burlesque, all non-Blue Bunny performers wore pasties. I realized that if I had been wearing some pasties under my shirt that day at work, I could have given my co-workers a real eyeful if I had taken up their suggestion. I can only imagine how hilariously wrong it would be to parade around the office in pasties. I’m not sure why this cracks me up so much, but it does.