I've always separated the men I know into two categories: those that can tuck their shirts into their pants without it looking odd and those that can't. Unfortunately, I've always counted myself firmly amongst the latter. That is, until today.

My recent admittance into the world of Government employment and its accompanying expectations of daily business dress has forced me to confront my tucking issues head on. As of last Monday that was that. Dress shirt could no longer be left untucked to blunt the effects that my pelvic region has on the opposite sex. The shape and firmness of my buttocks and all its accompanying connotations concerning sexual thrusting power are now on public display. My lack of a quality belt is painfully obvious.

But you know what? At roughly 2:45 this afternoon, after taking the big step of my first workplace defecation, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, shirt tucked in and all, and I'll admit that it did not make me want to tear my shirt out from my pants waist while sobbing. Today marks the successful completion of my first week on the job and great strides have indeed been made.