The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind...

By 5:00pm on Wednesday, I was exhausted, cranky, and had exceptionally blistered feet (still do, come to think of it).
So you can probably imagine how I felt when I escorted my group of 28 customers out the front door of our building to find that the van I ordered to transport said customers back to the hotel was NOT THERE.
I sprinted a quarter of a mile back to my desk to call the transportation department to inquire of the whereabouts of the van and got a 17-year-old desk attendant. "Uh, SOR-ry," he said. "It's on it's way."
So, I sprinted back down to where my guests were still waiting for the still-missing van.
I stepped to the center of their group, hoping their inquiring eyes would not notice how out of breath I was, or how nervous and upset I was, or how near I was getting to my melt-down point. I said, "Everyone, I'm really sorry! I don't know why the van is late, but I know it's on its way. This won't happen again, I'm very sorry..." I was about to say how thankful I was for nice weather, when suddenly, a HUGE gust of wind came out of nowhere and blew my skirt up around my armpits.
No one said a word.
The gentlemen looked away politely, and one young woman in the back of the group said, "Oh, girl. I've been there."
I think the gust of wind must have carried the van around the corner, because it finally arrived then, and I put everyone on, saying, "I'll see you at dinner!"
Then I tucked my skirt between my legs and ran for cover.