Thank you, Wikipedia, for helping me with a title for today’s post. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Let’s get right to the big stain on my skirt (which you can’t really see in these photos)…
After a lunch meeting, I went to a tasting event to support a friend who is the marketing director for a family-owned citrus juice company. I thought it would be casual and easy peasy, like a tasting panel with some snacks and networking, no big deal. When I got there, there was a camera in the corner, and a man was interviewing people as they tasted the juice. Oh my gawd, I am not good at this stuff, but I wanted to be a good sport for my friend. I’m in marketing. I understand the importance of good marketing research.
Here’s the scene:
I sit down to talk to the interviewer, and a massive light is shining in my face and I get these deer-in-the-headlights, forget-your-name-much-less-how-to-effectively-be-interviewed butterflies. I do a legitimately terrible job answering the first few questions; I’m not speaking loudly enough, I keep looking at the camera when I’m supposed to look at the interviewer… I’m a bumbling, fumbling mess.
Then it’s time to taste three different types of juice and give your honest reaction on film. The last sample is a blood orange juice, kind of similar in color and texture to V8. I take a sip, and suddenly it’s all down my blouse and puddling in my lap. Am I so freaked out and unable to function that I forgot how to drink from a glass? WTH just happened?!
I look at the cup, and there’s a quarter-size hole in it on the side that I just tipped to my lips. I’m literally the last person to be interviewed, and this cup has waited in the stack — through hours of taping — just for me. What luck! I should go to Vegas this weekend.
My immediate reaction: I’m really glad that it’s a faulty cup and not a faulty cup user! They stop the tape and people start handing me wads of napkins and offering Tide To Go pens (when I could really use a whole bottle), and all along in my head I stammer, “b-b-but, this skirt is vintage!”
The interviewer asks me if I want to stop, and I say no, we should at least finish. And a funny thing happens when they give me a new hole-free sample and start rolling the tape. First of all, the blood orange juice is amazing. Like, I’m probably going to pick up a case of this stuff on my next grocery trip. And second, all my butterflies go away. There’s nothing like a little public embarrassment to take the edge off.
I finished the interview much better than I began. Not great, mind you… CBS probably won’t call me for any broadcast opportunities any time soon, and I’ll be surprised if the company even uses any of my footage. But everyone was incredibly nice and I left with a few bottles of juice, an offer to pay my dry cleaning bill, and a handful of free coupons (which I’ll be using to stock my refrigerator with said blood orange juice).
When life hands you gourmet blood oranges in the form of juice all in your lap and splashed across your Dalena Vintage skirt, make… lemonade? You get the point ;-)
I'm a small town lady from the sunshine state with an affinity for bookstores, beauty counters and unfussy style.
I spend my days running my flower shop, and my nights blogging about what I love and what I wear.
(Or watching Netflix and drinking wine.)