Stella leans over and whispers loudly in Landa’s ear, “Remind me to tell you about the naked guy!”
This is a normal thing for my coworker Stella, one being that she doesn’t know how to whisper, the other being that we were supposed to be in our daily reports meeting, and this proclamation came out of nowhere. Stella is unusual. A late-20-something, she’s not very current with how the world works, but she tries, and is good at her job, so her team likes her.
In-between wondering why our China office is asking about pricing when our question was about artwork and questioning how exactly our samples fell off a truck and were now too dirty to send to us, little side conversations happen. The reports meeting is long, longer still now that the line plan is being put through to our overseas teams, and these little mind breaks are welcome. But a naked guy?
Apparently he was one of the crazy ones, as if a normal dude off the street would be dropping his pants on Broadway, and while he was fussing with his shirt he lost his pants. Stella went the other way after witnessing this. She’s good at avoidance.