Pretzel Day

If there is one thing I love about training it’s the pretzel day. There is something to be said for eating ballpark sized pretzels at 2:30 in the afternoon. Regardless of where your training is you ALWAYS have a pretzel day. The giant crispy on the outside soft on the inside goodness just melts in your mouth. The flakes of salt speckle the treat giving you a burst of flavor in each bite. Regardless of current diet restrictions, once a year I make an exception on pretzel day.

I’m now entering my third year as a member of the Public Accounting workforce which means I am in charge now of day to day operations. As far as testwork goes the buck stops here. There is certain level of responsibility and it’s the first hill on your way to top in public accounting. I’m supposed to be more mature. Now in year one I learned my lesson, I got some mustard and spilled a little bit right on the middle of my shirt. Lesson learned in year 2 I decided against the mustard and just enjoyed the pretzel in all its glory. This year though I had finally graduated. I was a man it was time for the mustard.

I wait in line procure my glorious pretzel and put a small spoon sized pile of mustard on my plate. They chose a good day too because we are going over derivatives (read boring). I am excited second wind here I come. As I finished off the last tasty bite I look down. No stains. Mission accomplished. I’ve earned it and the clean shirt was a badge of maturity.

I quietly continue to listen to the lecture. After about 20 minutes pass I look down; MAN a small stain on my pants. It’s the size of a small drip and since I’m wearing khakis it easily washes off. Right as I’m about to finish I notice another little stain on the right side and clean that off as well. O well two small stains were worth it.

The professor is doing his best, but derivatives just can’t be made “fun” by any stretch of the imagination. I look down at my nametag to see what time we’ll be leaving. Just to double check. And then I see it. A small stain on my shirt right down the middle, man I have now surpassed my first year blunder. I’m wearing a blue shirt and while the mustard fades it doesn’t actually come off. It's cool, my mom lives in Dallas so I’ll dry clean my scarlet letter.

Twenty more minutes pass and we are about 30 minutes from the end of class. Good lord could this guy be anymore boring. What time are we leaving again? As I look down to check the times on my badge I grow wide eyed. The entire back of my nametag is yellow. What…. Happened?

I look down and the entire right side of my shirt has been smeared in yellow mustard. Did I not see this before? The stain is about the size of a large softball maybe bigger. I would need about 3 or 4 bottles of water just to begin to fade it. I slowly peruse the table I’m sitting at. Assess the level of embarrassment. Who saw me? As I slowly look up everyone is in a half baked state that can only be brought on by day 4 in your 6th hour on derivatives. I’m safe. What the….. As I reach for the water I notice that my entire right arm is yellow as well. How did one spoonful of mustard turn into this? This is like Jesus feeding the 5000. I turned a quarter size dollop into a stain covering half my body. How is this even possible?

I scan again. No one is watching. I don’t have 5 water bottles at my desk to mitigate this stain. I need the Maytag man to even begin to combat this divine miracle. As the lecture begins to wrap up I grab ALL three binders of materials and hold them tightly against my chest and run out. I feel like Ernest in Ernest Goes to Jail:



I have no idea even still how one spoonful of mustard to which I consumed most of somehow managed to paint half my body. I washed the shirt three times with stain treatment and it still didn’t come all the way out. Needless to say you will never see me with mustard and pretzels ever again.