The Boob Incident

Monday morning and there were unexpected emails to answer and small fires to be put out. I pressed a white blouse and my jeans, in Evergreen this is a professional look. There were phone calls to answer and only fifteen minutes to make it to my first appointment. I gathered up my business cards and information, the library books I needed to return, the muffins for the 11:00 luncheon, I scribbled the luncheon address on a big bright yellow, daisy shaped post it, and slapped it on the front of my day timer, and I remembered my phone and camera. Darn, I'm good, I have everything, I'm running on time and I'm looking good.
At 9:30 I walk in the door of my first appointment, a long time business friend and a hard sell. But, I have a good track record with this client and I am confident and enthusiastic. He's expressionless and distracted. I'm not sure if he's thinking through what I am saying or I have lost him. Finally, I say "you know I'm brilliant at this." Slowly and seriously in a long drawn out Texas accent, he looks me straight in the eye and says "Well if you're so damn brilliant why does your boob have an address!" I look down, on the tip of my breast is a big yellow daisy with an address written in red ink. We both break out in laughter. I just turn and walk out the door.