I May Need to Retire. With My Boss, You Would Too

Working in a pediatric dental office is the best. I have an extremely lovable, quirky boss. Remember when she bought me a cheesecake and a box of Fairytale Brownies? She's all about doing nice things for her employees.

(Remember when she threw all my charts into a chaotic pile on the floor? Quirky!)

Before Christmas, I arrived at the office to find a list that would be used to help our boss with her holiday shopping. It asked all employees to write down a couple personal details. Just little things, you know, like your favorite color and if you prefer milk or dark chocolate.

Oh, and your bra size. On display. Publicly posted for everyone in the office to read.

The question especially flustered me because I've always been a tank top sort of gal - I have no idea what bra size I would wear if I wore one. Yes, I'm weird. 

Come to think of it, maybe this is why my boss decided a bra would be a good gift idea. I'm still proudly leading my own anti-bra revolution. (Is it still a proud revolution if I hope no one notices?) Clearly, I can't take a hint.

I answered the question with my best guess (nothing like a little peer pressure, right?) and returned to my job, answering phones and posting insurance checks. The list was thankfully removed from the wall at some point. 

Later that afternoon, I received a phone call from a parent who wanted to resolve his child's past due account balance. As I wrote down his credit card information, I could hear giggling from my coworkers behind me. It was a bit annoying, as I was on the phone. Couldn't they take their conversation elsewhere?

The next thing I knew, my boss was standing over me, holding a long string of dental floss. My posted bra size? She wasn't believing it.

Before I could wriggle away, my boss had the floss wrapped around my chest. She'd decided the most logical thing to do was measure me herself using the floss. In front of everyone. While I was talking to a patient.


 

Unsurprisingly, I discovered when I went to process the credit card payment that I'd made a mistake while taking down the information.