If you haven't read The New Dress Code, please do!
It was Monday, the first day of the work week. Some people dread Mondays. My feelings about this particular Monday were ones of apprehension. What would the day bring?
I was scheduled to be part of a presentation team at a local software convention. I had spent the weekend getting my slides ready. But it wasn't the presentation that had me on edge. None of us - not me (Sandra), not my supervisor (Bailey) and not our associate sales rep (Maria) - would be wearing underwear today.
It was company policy. The No Undies Mondays Rule - Bailey's brainchild - had been instituted just one week earlier. Since our sales numbers for the year-to-date were beyond dismal, Bailey felt that a little tease here and there might be good for business. "Sex sells," she always said. Indeed, most of us felt that Bailey was out there selling her ample cleavage. Up to now, it had worked, which explained why she had been the head of sales for the past ten years.
Maria and I went along with the No Undies Mondays Rule mostly because we needed to keep our jobs. I was fresh out of college and did not want to be fired from my first job in its first year just because sales were bad. That would definitely not look good on my resume. And Maria said she was still paying off her student loans, so getting sacked was not an option for her either.
This being the start of Week 2 of the No Undies Mondays Rule - Week 1 being "office only" (see The New Dress Code) - we were about to have our first field trial. It occurred to me that in a short while, I would be standing in front of about 100 men while I was not wearing underwear. I was soooo glad I went to college.
Not wanting to be overly showy in my no panties/no bra state, I decided to wear a black skirt and matching black button-down silk blouse. "Very business-like," I thought. I donned my skirt and blouse combination and looked at myself in the mirror. My nipples already were beginning to push through the blouse. Maybe it was the feel of the silk against my bare skin or maybe it was just the temperature in the room. "That's it!" I thought. "As long as it isn't too cold in the convention hall, I'll be okay."
Or so I thought.
Sales people always talk about "The Rule of the Presentation," where something is bound to go wrong at the worst possible moment. It started for me almost from the moment I arrived. I was sitting in a small prep room down a long foyer from the convention hall. Maria and I were getting our materials together. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and I started to get up. Before I was out of my chair, Bailey answered the door and was signing for a large box, which she promptly set down on one of the tables before closing and locking the prep room door.
Then, it happened.
As I sat back down, my skirt got caught on a nail or screw or some sharp thingy I didn't see that was sticking out on the side of the chair. I heard the sound that no woman ever wants to hear (unless she's on a date with a really hot guy she truly wants to have sex with, of course).
Rip!
The next thing I knew, there was a huge tear in the bottom of my skirt where the fabric came together.