Text #2
While we're on the topic of texting and my boss... last week I was out of town with him at a conference. We were sitting in the hotel bar with another girl I work with. The hotel has been under construction and our rooms are newly-redone.

"You know, I think I'm the first person to stay in my room," my boss said.
"I know I'm not," said the other gal.
"Why's that?" he asked.
"I had dirty towels on my floor, and ... pubic hairs ..." she replied, uttering the last phrase under her breath.
My boss is hard of hearing in the best of conditions, and in a crowded bar, his hearing is no good at all.
"What?" he asked. But she wouldn't repeat it. She and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.
He looked at me. "What'd she say?" he asked.
"I'm not repeating it," I told him.
"Why not?" he asked.
"I'm just not. God. I can't even look at you," I said, putting my hand in front of my face, traces of blotchy red marks beginning to crawl across my neck.
"Text it to me," he said.
"I am NOT texting it to you!" I told him.

But being out of town in a hotel bar with your co-workers makes you do strange things. Several seconds later, my boss received a text that said "pubes" and nothing more. I don't claim to be proud of my actions. Really.