Red shirt

So, I wore a red shirt to work today. Didn't really think anything of it. In fact, I chose my clothes this morning in pretty much the same way I do every morning.

Here is how I choose what to wear each day. It's kind of like a Choose Your Own Adventure book: Step 1. Grab a hangar. Is there an article of clothing on the hanger? If yes, continue to step 2. If no, go back to Step 1. Step 2. Is the article of clothing wrinkled, dirty, or otherwise unfit to wear in public? If yes, go back to Step 1. If no, put article of clothing on and continue to Step 3. Step 3. Is the article of clothing you are wearing pants or a shirt? Once determination is made, start back at Step 1 with whichever article (pants/shirt) you're not wearing. Then continue to Step 4. Step 4. Try to open your eyes. Look at yourself in the mirror. Do the pants and shirt sort of go together? Even a little bit? Is at least not too offensive to the eye? If yes, you are dressed. Now try to find breakfast. If no, start back at Step 1.

So, that's how I ended up at work today with what I must say are some pretty crisp black slacks and a very red shirt on. But you're just wondering: What the hell is this post about?

Not that it really went through my head consciously, but in retrospect as I walked into the office today I did see an abnormally large number of red-shirted insurance drones. Some of them even smiled at me, which isn't all that common around here in the morning unless you actually know the person. Normally the predminant color around here on Fridays is blue, because everyone is sort of encouraged to wear company logo shirts and while you can get logo shirts in pretty much any color, most of them are blue. Not red. But anyway.

So I'm here, checking messages, starting up my computer, and generally bemoaning the next eight hours of my life, when a co-worker we'll call shipDit walks by. You don't have to have met shipDit to know him. First of all, he used to be the manager for the entire office. Then he was re-assigned to "special projects." Now he's back working at my level, which is to say about three levels lower than where he was about a year ago. You might think that's rough for shipDit except that ... well, it's just a little bit funny. Seriously, if Bill Lumbergh had been demoted would his employees have really felt for him?

shipDit is the sort of co-worker who always has at least a semi-witty response ready for any situation. How? Well, he has about three semi-witty responses committed to memort and really isn't afraid to use them in any situation. So you might say, "Hi, shipDit, how are you this morning?" and he'll say, "Fine as frog's hair split three ways." He might say it to every person who asks him how he is. All week long. You probably know who I mean.

So shipDit, who still hasn't entirely figured out that he doesn't have any actual authority over anyone anymore, says, "Matt, I'm happy to see you in that shirt." And I just kind of nod and sort of smile and make a slight noise because that's really all I ever do now that my desk isn't right next to shipDit and I don't really have to even pretend to listen. But I'm thinking, HUH? Could shipDit mean that he's happy I didn't come in shirtless? Probably not. I do notice that shipDit is wearing a red shirt himself and that's striking since men of shipDit's, um, stature don't usually wear red. Probably because it's embarrassing to be mistaken for a firetruck, but I'm just guessing about that.

This had me confused for the entire morning. Not that I was dwelling on it, exactly, but surely you can understand how even the slightest potential that a man like shipDit could say something too witty to be understood could cause paranoia.

And then I got the email.

This email was titled "Wear red on Fridays." It took a moment for the synapses to connect, but even before I started reading, I gasped. Out loud. Not too loudly, though. If we actually had cubicles probably no one would have heard. As it is, four people heard but I think they all ignored me.

So apparently the movement is on to get people to wear red on Fridays to show support for our troops overseas. Which is a nice thought, although I do think the whole phrase "Support Our Troops" is now completely divorced from its actual meaning. But I'd rather not get into the politics of the phrase. I'm just here to issue a warning: Be careful what you put on in the morning. If it's not red, you could be inadvertently disrespecting the military. On the other hand, if you do wear red, you could be mistaken for a shipDit disciplea. Or, possibly, a fire truck.