I Am a Paper Doll.

Tomorrow will be an early, angry bitch. I have to attend an offsite meeting along with my boss and a co-worker, and my boss likes being places early, roosters-still-sleeping early. A couple of days ago, said co-worker and myself were called into a meeting by the boss to discuss this meeting. Boss wanted our team to show a united front at this meeting, and to him, this meant matching shirts with the company logo. Our company is pretty cheap, so we don't have lots of branded attire laying around, but Boss remembered that another of our team members had ordered some shirts for another project, and that there were some extras at his desk. With this, I was sent to grab these extras, so we'd be able to dress alike. The only shirts left were extra large. I am not a tiny man, but neither am I an extra large man. Boss is more extra large around the waist, but about three or four inches shorter than my five feet, nine inches. Co-worker would be all set. He's a big dude.

I tried my shirt on tonight. It's pretty big. You can't see my hands, and the collar comes close to sliding down past my shoulders. The shoulders of the shirt, in fact, match up fairly neatly with my elbows. I can tuck the tails of the shirt into my shoes.

I called the Boss to let him know that I would not be wearing my shirt tomorrow and thus missed out on the beginning of the State of the Union. The Boss was very angry, and told me to call my co-worker to tell him not to wear his shirt, because, while it would look cool for the three of us to match, it would just look silly if only two of us were wearing matching shirts.

In retrospect, I kind of wish I'd just decided to wear my really big shirt. Seeing my boss trip over his extra-large sleeves would have really cracked me up.