"How do I look?" asked my wife. "You look fine" I replied. I've been married 15 years and know this script well. There was a time, perhaps, when I was younger that I would go blank and yell off stage "line?!" She stood before me in a pinstripe pantsuit and white blouse with just enough jewelery to complete the ensemble. We live in France on a two year assignment with our corporation. My wife is a manager with a critical job that carries with it much stress and exposure.
Meanwhile, I am buried in the trenches of an engineering department and use the endless swaying branches of technical data as my cover. I occasionally push the data aside an peek out across the corporate battlefield and watch people like my wife running around giving orders and examining plans of intended battles. I prefer the trenches.
"You always look fine." I reaffirmed. She looked down and examined her attire. "I can't dress like the French everyday, I have an important meeting today" she looked up at me and added "do you know what I mean?" I thought for a moment. ."yes, . .while your coming across the table in the conference room at sixty miles per hour, explaining why the process that was just pitched to you is a product of morons, you want your victims to see pinstripes and not chiffon." She gave me a digesting stare. . . . .
"Yes, right."
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