False Breasts

Now the boss is leaving, I find I have to go to meetings, wearing a tie which I never used to before, and speak professionally in front of important personages, hopefully without blushing or sweating too profusely. So today I had meetings with railway and County council people in Exeter, which seemed to go well.
Then in the afternoon, I had volunteered to cover for the boss at a meeting back in Torquay, at 3pm. Notwithstanding the fact it was 3pm On A Friday, and I had to catch a train that went right past my house to get to it, I made it in time. The Leader of the Council gave me a funny look, and hoped I wouldnt be as troublesome as my boss normally is. I promised I wouldn't talk as much as him.
So while we were having all these sincere discussions about £1m repairs to the cliff on the seafront and what we were going to do with the traffic that runs below the cliff, in the goldfish bowl of a meeting room off the press office, one of the lovely women in the press office outside (and I know them all well, as M works in the same office), gets up and prances around where only I can see, with this on her chest.
Of course, being a professional, I didnt snort my coffee, or break the flow of my spiel, or snigger, or point excitedly. Of course not. I am learning to be a grown up.