On Doing the Right Thing - Part 1

So earlier today I'm sitting in my desk chair at work. I'm behind my desk. A colleague is standing on the other side of my desk. We are discussing a fascinating topic: how to properly calculate the capital accounts of certain subsidiaries in our organizational structure, given the capital contributions made initially by those subsidiaries and subsequent developments.

Then, unexpectedly, my body promulgated a noise of considerable duration. The noise was plenty loud; I am totally certain the colleague heard it. In addition, the sound could have come from a variety of places on my body. The noise could have been occasioned by pressure in my body being released in a variety of ways.

Based on the tone, texture, and frequency of the sound, my unfortunate colleague could have believed that the noise was simply the result of things moving around inside my stomach. My colleague could also very easily have believed the noise was the inappropriate result of air escaping my body out the business end of my large intestine.

The real tragedy in this is that I was speaking when the noise began. And I was inadvertently and temporarily distracted by the noise so I stopped speaking. I probably had a look on my face like I was pleased to be experiencing the sensations of whatever was making the sound. It pains me to admit, as a matter of fact, that I was so distracted by how long the noise continued that I stopped talking and listened to it. I focused on it. This couldn't have helped, since the proper goal in this situation in an office setting (and most other settings) is to take some action to conceal what is actually happening: I should have yelped or slammed some books down on my desk or frantically clicked a pen or something.

But I didn't.

I haven't experienced very many noises quite like this one. I thought it was interesting. And I savored it. Inappropriately, I am sure.

All of the foregoing I have a reasonable handle on. What happened happened. There wasn't anything that could've been done about that. With greater foresight, I could've anticipated the sound, I could've anticipated my reaction, I could've tried some sort of red herring.

But I didn't.

What I'm not sure about is the decision I made in the moments right after the sound stopped.

Now this part is important. I can tell you fine people, with total and complete honesty, that the noise was simply a stomach gurgle. It was just a stomach gurgle. It was just a significant, very audible, quite long, and regrettably ambiguous stomach gurgle. Seriously.

So, given that, my question is this:

• Right after the sound stopped, should I have acknowledged that the sound had occurred and assured my colleague that it was a stomach gurgle? Or was I correct to pretend it hadn't happened and just try to continue the conversation?

One other piece of data for you to consider as you prepare response: whether I made the right decisions or the wrong decisions in those difficult moments right after the sound stopped, I know I did one honorable thing -- I ended the meeting almost immediately after the sound and my colleague left my office. I figured that way if she thought it was a fart (which it wasn't), at least she would've been pleased to escape before she had to smell it.

Your input is hereby solicited.





Photo Credits: here