Get Out of Meeting Free Card

When not gainfully employed as a quantitative researcher, I use the euphemism “in between jobs.” Conversely, when actively employed, I’m “in between layoffs.”

In 2024, while in between layoffs, my employer organized quarterly in-person meetings at company headquarters, in Chicago. One assembly didn’t require in-person attendance, so I opted to attend virtually, as did many other coworkers.

At the designated time, I closed the door to our home office and joined the two-hour meeting via Zoom. I was a passive attendee; I had my audio muted and camera turned off. 

Meanwhile, my wife Lisa was flitting around Potrero Hill and environs, running errands in preparation for an upcoming family trip to Santa Cruz. She informed me of the three stores at which she’d be shopping. I only remembered one of them – because male – which was Le Marché Cezanne.

At some point during my meeting, our senior chihuahua, Russet, who can’t see well, woke up in the bedroom and walked down the hallway, bonking his head against the walls for navigation. He paced toward the office, not due to being excited about joining a two-hour Zoom conference, but because he was looking for his dear, beloved Mommy. He soon figured out that she wasn’t in the house and was willing to settle for second-best. I picked him up and put him in my lap. He rapidly fell asleep again.

A short while later, Lisa returned after a successful first trip. In order not to disturb anyone, she considerately and quickly placed her filled shopping bags in the hallway, not far from the closed office door. She turned around and left; home 20 seconds, tops.

That was more than enough for Russet, who has an amazing sense of smell. Detecting her scent, he woke up and, in his excitement, got uncontrollably squirmy. Mommy’s home! Yay! Take me to Mommy!

Except she wasn’t home anymore. But his body language was insistent. There was no way to contain his squirming in my lap, putting him in danger of falling off.

I ducked out of the meeting, took him into the hallway, set him down, and tried to placate him with the reassuring scent of Mommy’s bags. Huge mistake. Her trace was there. Both human logic and canine instinct would suggest she must be present or close by. Except she wasn’t. Quite the paradox I’d created.

In his confused state, Russet started howling. Loudly and dramatically. Nonstop. We needed to find Mommy in-person, Stat, to get him settled. But all I can remember is her shopping at Le Marché. What’re the chances she happened to be there at this precise moment? Not good, but I’ve got nothing else. 

I scooped him up and we headed outside, making a sudden, unexpected public appearance. He’s off leash. I’m under-dressed in my shabby work-from-home clothes; track pants, basically Jamy bottoms. I had my Zoom camera turned off for a reason. I hoped we didn’t have to pass by too big a crowd waiting at Plow or Farley’s. 

I carried him to Le Marché and to everyone’s relief we found Mommy in the store, basket in hand, pleasantly conversing with another customer. I placed him in Mommy’s arms. He’s happy, quiet, and calm again. Crisis resolved. Whew!

I gave my wife a quick explanation about his reaction to the presence of her bags in combination with her physical absence. I also explained to one or two intrigued neighbors – including Dominic from Christopher’s Books – what the impromptu doggy drop-off was about.

I returned home to my meeting. I was jealous of the dog. He was enjoying the affection of his Mommy/my wife and I was stuck in this meeting. Good boy! Well done! 

Our old dog flipped the script and taught me a new trick: if you’re caught in a meeting and want to get out, start howling. It’s a Get Out of Meeting Free card. I’ve seen it work first-hand. It’s effective. However, it might be too effective. I suspect that after one play of the card, one may be excused from all upcoming meetings due to being in between jobs, again.

Tom Wells lives on Texas Street.