A few weeks ago at work, I was responsible for some unintentional innuendo.
A coworker was describing a misunderstanding about processes and deadlines between two other employees. She was somehow the middle man in this chain of emails, and she was wondering how much she should get involved in sorting it out.
I told her my initial instinct is always to stay out of these messes. But our coworker at the next desk pointed out that the two employees involved were notorious for being very finicky and demanding (read: pains in the ass), and advised her to step in to avoid larger problems down the line.
“In this case, that is true,” I said. “My strategy usually works because my clients aren’t this much trouble.”
Then I added, “I guess I’m just not used to dealing with two dicks at the same time.”
It took me just a moment to fully hear it, while everyone else burst out laughing.
“I mean . . . you know what I mean!” I backpedaled. But it was too late.
My male coworker shot me a mock stern look over the top of his glasses. “I’m calling HR.”
Perhaps he should.