Apologies to my Colleagues

Published in the Idaho State Journal on November 7, 2021

 Since companies began issuing remote work edicts, I have heard stories of video and conference call faux pas. There was the woman who forgot she was on camera while she took her laptop to the loo; the guy who thought the call had ended and stood up to reveal his boxers; and the hundreds of dogs barking, kids screaming and cats bumping the web cams causing disruptions. Last week, it was my turn.

I had gone to a community meeting across town at lunch. My bi-monthly staff meeting started at 1 pm, and this particular one offered a training I needed. About a dozen coworkers call in from home, the local office or the office in our Texas location. My teammates in this meeting are sharp and competent with great senses of humor. Hopefully I can add “forgiving” to their list of adjectives.

Before I left my noon community meeting, I turned on my phone’s hotspot and fired up my laptop. With my laptop connected to my phone’s Wi-Fi, I could access the meeting’s audio and visual slides on my computer. I muted my line, and turned up the volume so I could hear the meeting introductions on my five minute drive home. I put my laptop in the backseat so I could drive without the distractions of video.

I have been having terrible back troubles lately, so I break up my days with icing and lying down. I bought a bed desk that allows me to work while doing so, and the setup is perfect for these types of meetings. When I got home, I set the laptop on the kitchen counter while I got my ice pack out of the freezer. I noticed I was still on my phone Wi-Fi and it was draining the battery, so I switched to my home network.

The transfer from my phone’s Wi-Fi to my home Wi-Fi was so quick that the audio and video barely glitched. I didn’t notice I became un-muted in the process.  This is important. Our youngest had a half day, so both he and my wife were home milling around the house quietly so I could listen.  I grabbed my ice pack and laptop and headed to lie down.

Our two golden doodles skittered behind me to nap while I iced and listened. They have interrupted a few meetings during the past year when the UPS guy showed up or when our kids got home from school.  Everyone knows I’m a dog-lover, so it’s never a surprise when their barks break in. I do love them, but they can be a pain in the butt.  Speaking of butts…

Our seven year old pup has had intermittent issues over the years with her anal glands. I had never heard of an anal gland until I got my first dog in my late 20’s. Scientifically speaking, dogs and cats have two small glands near the anal opening that can fill up with liquid and poo. When our dog starts the “scoots” or we notice excessive licking, it’s time to take her to the vet so the glands can be “expressed”. Sometimes when the  glands are full, they will leak a foul-smelling fluid resembling rotting fish and excrement all wrapped into one. Scientifically speaking, it’s disgusting.

While getting my bed desk situated, I noticed a faint stain on a pillow. I thought it might be Diet Dr. Pepper or tea since I’ve been drinking a bunch of both lately. Without thinking, I pulled the pillow to my nose and sniffed. Nope. Not Diet Dr. Pepper or tea.

I gagged and shrieked to the people in the house, “GAAA! Her anal…” Before “glands” could escape in my scream, I noticed I was no longer muted. The presenter stopped talking and said, “excuse me?” 

Still gagging, I paused for a prayer and muted my line.  I watched everyone’s icons, silently pleading for the presenter to continue. When he finally did, I thought that my outburst hadn’t been discernible due to the streaming delays common with technology.

The next day, having already placed the experience in the bowels of my memory bank, I had forgotten about it - until one cheeky fella in the office said with a smirk, “Hey, did you have something to say in the meeting yesterday?” 

I recalled all of the years of workplace training to consider whether discussing my dog’s anal glands at work could get me fired. With nothing coming to mind, I came clean. It was a “ruff” day on the remote work learning curve. In our next staff meeting, I will offer a training on the short-cut keys to mute your line, a reminder to check your meeting settings often, and apologies to my colleagues.