Don't Wait Wait - Tell Me!

True story. Once I got on an a crowded elevator on the 31st floor and took it down to the lobby at 5pm, the busiest time in an office building.  This exciting story does not end there.  Not one person I encountered chose to mention to me that my skirt was tucked neatly into my pantyhose.  I was not humiliated in the least; truly  I was just furious. How could all those people let me walk around like that?  It's not like I possess a strong enough sense of personal style that a bystander could believe I was making a unique fashion statement.

The same goes for the poppy seeds in the teeth (after any bagel), the flaked mascara under my eye (today).  (Wow, that is quite the picture of myself I have just painted, is it not?) If you see me or anyone else make any of these mistakes, you owe it to them as a fellow living, breathing, sentient being to let them in on the secret and give them the opportunity to correct it.  I will tell people if their fly is unzipped. In high school my friend Cindi regularly demanded a 'chunk check' after any food item was consumed and I gladly took part.

OK, there was that one time when I was on a project at MTV where we didn't tell our manager he had put an open highlighter in his shirt pocket when he was presenting at a meeting, but that was because it was just so much fun to watch the fluorescent yellow spread slowly across his chest.  Capillary action in action!