Blaxploitation pj's

So today, I had a brilliant idea: since the drive back from our weekend away took longer than expected--we crossed the city limits after lunchtime, shortly before my husband had a meeting at work--I asked him to drop me off at the elegant hotel facing my office so I could dash into the ladies' room, change into my work clothes (conveniently stuffed in our suitcase, since we'd left town straight from work) and sashay over to the office. Part A of this plan went off without a hitch, although one hotel employee--wearing black tie and standing beneath crystal chandeliers with his hands behind his back--raised an eyebrow at what I was wearing.

But the ladies' room was locked.

So I spent the next twenty minutes wandering around the financial district wearing purple pajama bottoms trimmed with pink lace, and a blaxploitation t-shirt. Well, it's actually a Black Joe Louis and the Honey Bears t-shirt featuring the singer of that band wearing 70s pimp shades, sandwiched between two scantily-clad mamas with glorious towering Angela Davis afros. So, not an actual blaxploitation movie t-shirt, but close enough--you can tell from the official Black Joe Lewis Valentine's Day cards, which say "Bitch, I Love You," what the basic vibe is.

If I had consulted a fellow attorney as to the wisdom of crossing the threshold of my workplace in this outfit, I would have been advised in the strongest possible terms to call in sick, or throw $600 on my AmEx card for a random skirt and shirt at Saks (that Place Where People Shop Only if Their Views on Money are Totally Alien to My Own), or... do whatever it takes, but do not enter the workplace in that outfit, not even for the three minutes it would take to get to the ladies' room. So my wandering in the financial district brought some questions to mind:
- Why do so many businesses downtown not have public restrooms?
- Why do I dress like a crack baby when I travel?
- Is it a good idea to change clothes in the bathroom of the McDonald's widely known as a drug market, where dealers openly sit at tables plying their trade? Probably not. Dammit.
- Statistically, what are the chances of running into the managing partner in the elevator? It doesn't happen very often. But how often? And if you factor in the chances of running into a partner you work with? And what if he or she is escorting clients to a meeting...? Dammit!

So. Yeah. I was a little late to work.