Ickiness, part deux

Many years ago, in my first job, I walked into my boss's office only to see my boss and a man-not-her-husband move quickly away from each other and appear to be rather guilty. I was pretty sure I walking in on the sort of thing you should not be doing on company time . . . unless you work in a brothel. I know, working for the man is often compared unfavorably with getting screwed . . . but this was not that sort of bending over and taking it.

I was more embarrassed than they were and quickly turned tail and fled back to my dark and moldy little office. I later learned that another co-worker had walked in on a similar scene . . . but she had the wherewith all to sit down and make them uncomfortable and then parlay it into preferential treatment in the office.

Yesterday morning, I had to be in the big city early for a meeting. I stopped at my local gas station to fill up and then headed into the convenient store for a drink and snack for the drive. It was much to early in the morning and it startled me to see the woman working behind the counter jump and distance herself from a man who was also behind the counter. There was that icky vibe of catching someone at being less than discreet . . . and then I noticed that the man behind the counter with a woman not his wife was my accountant.

This time, I didn't flee. I got my drink and my snack . . . I didn't linger, but I didn't rush either . . . while they tried to make idle chitchat to fill the awkward silence. Then, I made chitchat with the accountant . . . and I expect a big, big refund this year.