Several years ago, I worked at a large software company in Eugene. I was in a highly technical role which included training large groups from time to time and even giving presentations on our goals. I used to affectionately refer to these sessions as “coffee and propaganda”.
Most people knew of my disdain for speaking in front of large groups, even though I was reasonably good at doing so and usually got my point across.
So much to my surprise, my boss came to me and asked me to give a presentation on a system upgrade that we were going to be doing later in that month. Ironically enough, it involved an upgrade to the Lotus Notes system, which I know everyone just loves!
I said, “That’s fine. How many employees will I be presenting to?”
He gave me a strange look and said, “Well… all of them.”
“All of them” would be about 1500 people.
I’m sure it was at this point that I turned about thirty different shades of white and green simultaneously. I’m sure it was an impressive sight, because my boss laughed at me. He laughed at me! He didn’t even try to comfort me in my panic stricken state. He laughed, slapped me on the back and said, “Good luck!”
Joy.
I was informed that my presentation was expected to last about thirty minutes. Thirty. Minutes. From my experience, for every hour of lecture and/or discussion, there should be at least 10 hours of preparation and planning.
So for a 30 minute presentation, I planned on five hours of work. No big deal, right?
Wrong. Boy oh boy was I ever wrong.
As it turned out, I had all of three days to prepare for my presentation. Best of all, we didn’t even have any training material. I was left frantically capturing images from the internet and trying to make some kind of powerpoint that wouldn’t make it look like I’d… well, like I’d just thrown it all together in three days with no information available.
The day finally arrived to give my presentation.
It was scheduled for early, very early in the morning. I lived in Albany, which, after traffic was considered, it took about an hour and a half to drive to work each morning. The presentation was at 7:00 AM. Early. I had to leave my house at 5:00 AM. I’d been up since 4:00 AM, but that’s almost like saying that I’d slept in the first place.
I’d dressed nice, but not too nice. It’s usually a bad idea to overdress in front of 1500 geeks. And they were, every one of them were geeks. Admittedly, some of them were very attractive women geeks, but that was besides the point.
Needless to say, I thought that my conservative approach in wearing khakis, a dress shirt, and a tie was warranted.
The moment comes, and I walk up on stage. I had been sitting all morning, either in the car or in my cubicle, so I hadn’t had much time standing. In fact, walking up on stage was probably the most standing I’d done all morning.
I made it to just about the center of the stage when, either my right foot caught a pants leg, or I stumbled or something… but either way, my pants fell off. Yes, you read that right. Off. O-F-F.
They didn’t slip, they didn’t shuffle, they didn’t slowly slide, they just came right off. They dropped. Finito. End of story. Gone. Sans pants. Down to the ol’ ankles. I froze. It was as if every high school nightmare had suddenly come to fruition.
You see, there were two very important factors that I hadn’t considered that morning. The first, and probably most important fact was that I’d lost about 40 pounds since I’d last worn these particular khakis. They were kind of large on me.
Second, and just as important, when sitting all day, it’s a little difficult to ascertain just how tight you should cinch up your belt. The pants were large enough that it probably looked like I was trying to keep a 300lb burlap sack snugly around my waistline.
Now, may I remind you that I’m in front of 1500 people. I haven’t even begun my presentation, and their first impression of me has just been firmly lodged in to their brains. Because under said pants, I couldn’t have chosen a worse undergarment.
You know those joke gifts that you get from time to time from a loved one or a spouse? Those things that you don’t actually wear, but keep around just the same?
So what happens when you get up at 4:00 AM, realize you don’t have time to do laundry and you think, “Hey, who’s going to know I’m wearing Spongebob Boxers that say, ‘Spongebob LovePants’?”
It seemed reasonable enough at the time. It really did. But standing onstage, 1500 people silent and, just before the ensuing laughter, I wondered if they could read what my boxers said on the huge screen or the many televisions scattered around the room. Did I mention I was being recorded for remote employees as well?
Needless to say, I never really lived that one down. Every February 23rd, to this day (and including this year), an old friend from my previous employer e-mails me and sends me a copy of the video with a message that says, “Ha Ha!”. He has it on his calendar. And he sends it to everyone in the company, including the new people.
I’ve become a legend, and I didn’t even want to.