The slippery slope to workplace humiliation
One of my favourite parts of the winter season used to be the ski trips. Nothing beats swapping the smoggy Hong Kong winters for a cabin on one of Japan’s snow-capped mountains.
Of course, the skiing itself takes some skill. My lithe youthful body never had a problem careening down mountainsides, taking daring leaps and landing perfectly. But I’ll never forget the winter I knew it was time to hang up my ski boots and start spending more time sipping hot toddies by the fire.
It was a particularly busy month at work one January when I decided to go ahead with my long-planned ski holiday. I planned to arrive a bit later than Tai Tai at the resort, allow for a long weekend hitting the slopes and make it back to the office in time for the big client meetings I had planned in the following days. Nothing could mess up my perfect getaway.
But on the first day of skiing, I felt a bit wobbly. A year slumped over my desk hadn’t done my athletic prowess any good. I decided to stick to the bunny hills, unwilling to risk having to return to the office in a cast. My caution paid off, and I was injury free all weekend — until my last night of the holiday.
While walking across the parking lot towards our dinner reservation, my foot hit a patch of black ice. Before I knew it, I was lying on the pavement. The result? Three broken ribs.
Much to my embarrassment, and my subordinates’ glee, I met all my clients that week with a slight grimace — and a giant brace. I’ve stayed away from the ice and snow ever since.