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picture this, if you will:

a beautiful, sunny day in new york city. employed manhattanites are sitting on the citigroup steps with their co-workers and consuming a delightful assortment of foods--sandwiches, soup, shredded lamb--oh my! a bubbling fountain glistens in the background. work is temporarily forgotten as the occupants of the aforemented steps take dainty bites of their respective lunches and wave at friends passing by. the men are utilizing their precious lunch hour to discuss friendly, masculine, non-work related topics like the yankees, armani suits, and the crazy bitches who were shouting V-A-G through the streets of the meatpacking district on friday night. the ladies are sitting crosslegged on the same steps, their legs dangling childishly, commenting on the outfits and general appearances of other women. all of these men and women are wearing black business suits, though many a collar is loosened and many a sleeve rolled up.

in the background, blurred behind a sea of black and white suits from saks, two young women are sprinting through the citigroup fountain barefoot. they are wearing bright, colorful skirts, one of which could be considered "a bit too short" for the work environment. one by one, each citigroup head turns to cast a look of disgust at these young women, all of them thinking one of three things:

1. were those the v-a-g girls from friday?
2. they are going to contract some form of foot fungus, hepatitis, or step on a saringe that was cast into the fountain by a disgruntled homeless person.
3. they have a mentally degenerative disease. perhaps not dementia or down syndrome, but something along the lines of a forest gump or gilbert grape-like malfunction.

i no longer experience the emotion of embarrassment. it is liberating.