You are presenting to the Board of Directors of a large outside firm, in a meeting that will make or break your small company. You’ve been called over to present your case to them, and hopefully win them over to your point of view. It’s not a hostile environment, but it’s not friendly either. This is a very hard to get, one shot, important meeting.
You arrive and check in with the front desk and are told to have a seat while the receptionist checks in with the boardroom, but she thinks they’ll be ready for you in about five minutes. Knowing you have a short time before your presentation you ask her to take your jacket and briefcase of materials into the boardroom while you visit the facilities. She agrees and you part ways, her into the board room to announce your momentary arrival and to leave your things, and you to the washroom. Owing to your nervousness at the situation, you’ve felt an increasing need to visit the restroom since you got in the cab to come over here. Thankful for the opportunity you rush through it, regretting steak and beans you ate the night before. The smell is something out of a horror movie and it occurs to you how embarrassing it would have been to have any related issues during your presentation.
Unfortunately as you’re cleaning yourself up, the tail of your shirt flaps down and you inadvertently wipe your ass with it as you go through the motions. Owing to your nervousness and your haste, this isn’t a “light” problem. You completely just wiped your ass with the tail of your shirt such that the entire part that would tuck into your pants is now caked with something unpleasant.
Your jacket, briefcase and presentation materials are now in the board room. You have nothing with you, and there is nothing in the washroom but the standard restroom facilities. As the realization of what’s happened sinks in you hear a knock on the door and you hear a voice ask if you’re coming, as the Board of Directors are waiting.
You’re tucking in your shirt, so no one’s going to see the stain.
With enough hand soap, you should be able to mask any odor. I’ll never let my son forget the night we went to a Cajun restaurant, and he discovered how his 9 month old body was well suited to coping with all the spices in the vegetarian jambalaya – by forcibly expelling it into his diaper during the dessert course. He made a grunting noise at the end of the table, and I suddenly had to apologize to a bunch of strangers because a large blue cloud was filling the room.
Twenty minutes later, and a soak in the sink, and his onesy was good to go back over a clean diaper. Sure, he smelled like “rainforest goo” or whatever the soap smelled like that day, but it was a lot better than partially digested okra and rice.