Guess who’s coming to dinner?

It was bound to happen at some point.  Having to pump twice a day at work can be a bit challenging.  What’s made it more of an issue is my employer’s need to “streamline” and “downsize.”  As such, they have consolidated offices and floors so that often it’s like working in a clown car.  Most of us rank and file worker bees get cubes.  Sure, they’re fairly roomy but they’re still cubes.  They’re only about 5’ tall and they have no door.  We’re not even allowed to put up curtains or hippie beads for fear that “the man” won’t be able to see what we’re doing at all times.  C’est la vie.

In any event, my pumping requirements are as follows: an electrical outlet, a chair, and A CLOSED AND LOCKED DOOR.  I have to admit the process is funny looking.  I don’t even like Will to see me pump.  Think the Madonna “Vogue” video, but much less couture and more Frankenstein:  plastic pointy things on your boobies with bottles and hoses attached.  Then the machine itself makes some interesting noise.  It’s like a blender straining to tackle a whole watermelon at one go, only with more rhythm. 

Our organization currently has an entire floor (2nd) empty, waiting for tenants to move in in order to save money/jobs.  I’ve been using some of the offices down there, as it’s usually blissfully quiet.  However, there is the constant threat of workmen moving about.  I always lock the door and stuff a chair in front of it, but my guard is never down.  My boss has offered his office, but when he’s in I feel bad for kicking the man out of his office twice a day.  However, I have used it when he’s off/out.

Yesterday, he texted me in the morning to let me know (so that I could put it on our white board – which serves to let our group/powers that be know where folks are when not in their office) that he was ill, and would be in later – maybe.  At 9:30 when it was time to unload, there was no sign of him.  Since I was kind of in a good groove, I opted to duck in there vs. going down 5 flights of steps to the 2nd floor.  I locked the door and put a chair in front of it, then, after setting up the apparatus and my nook (hey – it’s one of the only times I get to read these days), commenced with what I had to do.

After about 5 minutes, I heard a key go in the lock.  I started screaming “excuse me!” (think Suzanne Sugarbaker from the old Designing Women).  The problem is that my boss’s hearing is horrible.  He began to open the door, and got it about 6” ajar before I started howling “No! No!!”  He looked horrified and quickly slammed the door.  To put it mildly, I think we were both shocked and embarrassed.  He couldn’t have seen anything (as far as flesh goes), but it still had to be quite a sight to the unprepared.

He disappeared for about 2 hours, later stopping by to apologize.  I just laughed, accusing him of leaving to gouge his eyes out or go directly to the bar for a stiff drink.  I’ve decided I need some kind of sign/signal to put on the outside of whatever door I am behind.  I’m thinking a “Do Not Disturb” kind of thing with boobies drawn on it.

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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