black francis wrote:I know what you mean. I got the complete opposite response at my kid's old preschool. They were really good to us when my son attended. One time I was carrying him in and he threw up all over me, all over my shirt. I had to take it off and I was trying to clean the mess and hold in my stomach at the same time. It was pretty much as embarrassing as it could possibly get but the director came over and like, "I think you need a massage." This funky guitar kicked in and my got real deep and I found myself saying, "You don't say?" and made it seem like no big deal. They took care of me. Of course I still had to walk around and drive home with no shirt but I heard some chicks calling out to me and knew I had to get home. Too much mojo for the fine city of LA.