True story.
I used to count inventory in convenience stores. No, it wasn’t some weird obsessive compulsive thing. It was my job. And yes, it was as boring and tedious as it sounds. We’d leave from the office very early every morning, drive several miles (sometimes across State lines) and spend our days adding up packages of Doritos and Snickers bars to see how much was being stolen. My partner was a guy named Todd. Todd was overweight, not morbidly obese, but more than moderately round (the reason I mention this will become clear in a minute).
Because we left so stinking early in the morning, it was usually still dark outside. One morning we walked out into the parking lot and Todd set his equipment down on the ground in order to unlock the car door. I waited patiently and looked up into the brightest, clearest sky I had ever seen. I stood there in awe of God’s creation for a moment, and then turned to look at the moon. It was a huge, orange harvest moon, dazzling and beautiful. I halfway expected to see the silhouette of Elliott and E.T. fly across it. Grinning from ear-to-ear, I turned to Todd and said, “Wooooaaah… Look at the moon!”
Unfortunately, and quite unknown to me, Todd had just finished unlocking the car and was bending over to retrieve the equipment he had previously set down. Because of his girth, his pants and his boxers protested this movement by dropping around his ankles. I found myself staring straight at his naked butt. He immediately pulled his pants back up, smiled sheepishly and turned beet red.
Worst timing ever. Our relationship was always a little uncomfortable after that.
So, I’m setting up a “safety card” for the employees of a well-known package delivery company today, and one of their safety points says: “Plan for the Unexpected.”