I've committed some pretty embarrassing typos in my time. I mean, sure, busty is a word, and yes, I rather am, but dammit what I meant to say was that I was incredibly busy! Damn you, spell check, giving me a false sense of security in my e-communications.
What a shame - all this technology and none of it capable of discerning context or intent. ... Or is it?
I only ask because I received a request to attend a project kick-off meeting today. Except the sender typed lick-off in the subject line.
I mean, who am I to discern one's intent, as viewed through the (possibly Freudian) lens of a spell check that may or may not have known what was really on everyone's mind? Plus I was the first recipient on the list - that's practically like calling me the guest of honour! And I have to admit, after not having had sex in approximately, like, forever, a good lick-off meeting sounded like a mighty fine idea to me.
So it was with high hopes and a rather assertive bikini wax that I headed to work this morning.
Sadly, this exceptionally promising-sounding event somehow degenerated into some sort of discussion forum where the participants all sat around and talked about work. Like a meeting or something. Bo-ring!
I have yet to discern how it all went awry - perhaps my poor colleagues are simply living in fear these days - but for whatever reason the project manager elected to run with a considerably more G-rated interpretation of his typo than had ever crossed my mind:
he brought Tootsie Pops for everyone. Y'know. To lick.