Part 5

During the years of my career, I progressed through various levels of satisfactory performance until, by the time the ' 90s rolled around, I was a vice president of the large company I worked for, responsible for the overall management of about 150 people,  Hairpiece-related incidents at work during that period were subtle, and in line with my head-in-the-sand philosophy, I ignored them.  For example, there would be the occasional snide remark about someone ELSE wearing a toupee, with surreptitious glances in my direction.  There was an occasion when I agreed to sit in a dunking booth at the office picnic, and overheard a conversation in the men's room that they were excited about seeing my wig come off in the dunking booth (it didn't). 
       The myriad of little incidents reached a climax on one unforgettable evening, in an event that could not possibly be ignored, even by me!  There was a farewell  planned for one of the managers who worked under me, as he was leaving the company.  The event took the form of an after-work party in the office cafeteria, to which all 150 people were invited, and most attended.  Keep in mind that all of these people worked for me, under various subordinate managers.  The party took the form of a roast, in which various friends and co-workers of the departing manager stood up and roasted him with funny stories, amusing reminiscences, etc.  I was one of the roasters, and gave what I thought was an amusing account of his harmless traits and peculiarities.  As with all such roasts, the "subject" has the last word, after all the other speakers have had their go at him.  So he got up to have his "revenge", and proceeded to devote his entire 15 minute monologue to me and my hairpieces.  He came prepared. He had a flip chart on which he had drawn what he called was a history of my wigs.  He had hand-drawn caricatures of me in what he described as my various different looks.  He had them in stitches.  He told stories of how they all watched for me to wear a new one, how sometimes it would be crooked, and much more that I cannot remember now.  Throughout all this, what was I to do?  I was stunned.  I sat there in front of all my people, with a forced smile on my face, not knowing how to act or what to say.  When it was over he shook my hand.
  How do you go to work the next morning after that?  How do you face the people who are supposed to look up to you?  I honestly don't know how I did it, but go to work I did.