the fork (spit) in the road...

we've all been there. Talking to a group of people. Driving home a point. You have the floor, their undivided attention. Then all of a sudden you spit upon enunciation. There it sits, the point you were so passionately trying to make, in all its drooly glory on the desk. You know they saw it.

What do you do?

Me? I pound my fist on the desk and say, "Who's with me?" Then I stand up and ride my imaginary horse (Bernie Mac) out of the office. Smacking my ass and whinnying. The joke quickly turns on me, though. Once around the corner, I realize that it was my own office that I just rode Bernie Mac out of. Now I have to wait for those (who so obviously were not with me) to awkwardly leave.

They look at me all weird-like when they pass. I just pretend to feed Bernie Mac some oats. They may think I have flipped my lid, but you know what? I guarantee that not one of those poor horseless bastards says one thing about me spitting on the desk.

Crisis averted, America.