Three Genius Moves

"You had the ability to choose what you were going to make me feel, so take responsibility for who you lose when the pain you inflict becomes real. So before I go, you should know that other human beings don't f*ck with each other unless they want to lose each other. And you just lost me." -- from Glory Days

You know those days when your most brilliant ideas tend to fail in a myriad of spectacularly embarrassing ways? Multiply it by one and you've got an unfortunate situation. Multiply it by two and you've got a bad day. Multiply it by three and you've got a pretty awesome story.

Last Thursday, near the end of my workday, I stood on a swivel chair to reach a high shelf. Genius Move #1. Yes, I know that steadying oneself on a platform that can slide AND rotate is an inherently dangerous thing to do, but my colleagues and I navigate our cabinets this way at least once every few hours without a problem.

This time, however, the chair slipped as I hopped down from it. And sent my high heel-clad right foot straight through the sleeve seam of my coworker's coat.

I apologized for my (literal) misstep, assured her that I know how to sew, and promised to come into work the following day (i.e. my day off) to repair it.

Last Friday, i.e. my day off, I decided to go for a run prior to playing tailor at work. I then realized that it would be a better use of my time to kill two birds with one stone, take a jogging route that passes my office, and pop into work to sew my coworker's coat. Genius Move #2.

I dressed in my normal running gear -- sneakers, sweatpants, a cropped sportsbra top, and a ponytail -- skipped the makeup and contact lenses, tucked a needle and thread into my pocket, and set off.

It was a warm, sunny day, so I was red-skinned and drenched by the time I arrived at work. And Lord knows what my hair looked like; my curls don't stay put in an elastic band even on a good day. I couldn't exactly walk through a waiting room full of patients looking the way I did, so I decided to take the elevator up to an office floor and take the back stairs down to where my colleague's coat was stored. Genius Move #3.

The elevator doors opened on my intended floor... and instead of its usual emptiness, the hallway was completely filled with anonymous men in suits. And a spectacular lunch buffet. And a bunch of doctors I barely know. And a PowerPoint presentation.

And, as is always the case when I arrive somewhere in a sportsbra and sneakers looking sweaty and disgusting and intending to remain unseen, the doctor standing closest to me was my clinic's Jake Ryan. Or Zach Siler. Or Finn Hudson. Or [insert the name of your favorite gorgeous popular jock with a heart of gold here]. Perfection in Scrubs was working the room, chatting animatedly with a few of the suits, until he saw me. Then he stopped in mid-sentence. And stared. And not in a good way.

I shot him a look that was part "hey" and part "holy crap." Then I hightailed it the hell out of there and down the back stairs as fast as I possibly could.

At least my coworker's sleeve seam looks fantastic.