Gingerbread envy & a case of mistaken identity

From Nov 12, 2010
I have just returned from a conference. During the conference, staff were decorating the conference hotel for the upcoming holidays. While leaving for dinner, I heard some drilling noises and found a small house being erected in the middle of the lobby. When I returned, it was completed and I told my new acquaintances that I needed to be excused. I wedged myself into the house as I just couldn't help myself. L thought that was great and took a picture with her phone and promised to email it to me. I gave her my business card with my email address and didn't think any more of it the rest of the night.

The next morning, I bumped into my boss, who was cracking up. She asked me why she had received a picture of me in a gingerbread house. I was certainly confused; I wondered how L had known who my boss was and what her email address was. However, my brain suddenly clicked back on and I fished out my business cards and started laughing, too. We have a general template for the cards at work. I was in such a hurry to get everything in order at work before I left on Monday that when I used the template, I had updated the cards with my name and job title, but had left my boss's email address on the card. L had been confused as she had thought my name was [Aroundthewherever]*, not [Boss's Name]*, but thought that maybe I just went by [ATW] casually and sent the email anyway. My boss loved the picture nonetheless and forwarded it to me.

The next night was even more exciting in the hotel lobby. Our group had a pow wow to talk about how the conference was going. The whole lobby smelled strongly of gingerbread so I followed the smell to what had been a wooden house the night before. A gentleman in a chef's smock was stirring a giant vat of icing and was cutting large sheets of gingerbread. He was plastering the gingerbread to the house with the icing. I felt that I just had to offer to help shingle the house with gingerbread (seriously, I had never seen such big vats of icing or such huge blocks of gingerbread before in my life! How awesome would it have been to be a part of it?). My co-conspirators tried to give helpful opening lines of how I could make that happen. However, I think that the chef was having none of it because various conference attendees had been milling about him all night and he just wanted to get the darn thing done. I feel that my life is not complete because I haven't plastered on giant gingerbread shingles. Perhaps some day my hopes will be fulfilled.


*Pseudonyms to protect the silly.