Picante

The work environment has changed for most of us since March. All those freakin’ meetings are now all those freakin’ conference calls, frequently with video to spice things up.

Even without video, there are…comment dit on…moments.

Sometimes it’s the dog barking at someone at the door. Sometimes it’s your tea kettle going off. Most often it’s kids related. Several times in just the past week, one or another of my colleagues has had to veer off from the Important Business Topic at Hand to deal with a young-un’s query. Or to adjudicate a sibling spat. It’s just the way things are.

Yesterday morning was definitely a Zoom moment for someone.

Let me say up front that I was not on the call in question. And—sadly for everyone who did not star in it—it was not recorded. But those who witnessed it were still cracking up at close of business. I do not know who the person was, except that she was apparently not a company employee—one of the vendors who’s helping with our launch. Things were progressing on the IBTaH when suddenly this cut through the discussion:

“No. Do not touch your penis after holding a jalapeño. Go talk to your dad.”

(I'm not entirely sure of the second sentence, because everyone who told the story was laughing too hard to be fully understood.)

I think she instantly realized she had not been on mute. I hope to God she was not on video, because the one saving grace of this incident would be the knowledge that people would not be able to recognize her if they ever met her in person.

And—let me just say: kudos to Mom for calling it a penis and not a pee-pee.