We're driving past Smithville, home of the Excalibur Faire, and I'm rambling about Renn Fests, talking about costumes, listing a few. Not really paying attention, when Boss #1 chimes in with "men in tights?"
"Yeah," I ramble on, still on autopilot. "Sometimes leather and chainmail, too."
Superego, noticing the strange texture to the following silence, kicks me in the rear. "Bustiers, on some of the girls, that's nice," I add.
The next day, bosses take me shopping to Bed, Bath and Beyond. Boss #2 gives me the lovely line about "you're a saint, my husband won't go shopping with me."
At the packaging material workshop. Boss #2 walks in wearing an ankle bracelet.
#1: "Doesn't that mean you're gay?"
#2: "I thought that was an earring."
#1: "Left side or right side? I think that means something."
#2: "Let's ask Jacob, he'll know!"
Anyway, sweet ladies. Almost clinically awkward moment, though.