My Interview Suit.

WARNING: Business Casual, with its shapeless, sexless khakis and Misses Activewear sweater sets, may cause nausea, chills, and extreme irritability. Severe caution must be taken when viewing the vomit-patterned men's "golf" shirts on the 7:12AM commuter express (especially the morning after Jose Mac's "Thursday Magherita Special").

Casual Friday, corporate America's attempt to momentarily distract employees from their mind-numbing, soul-draining jobs, is nothing but a cruel tease, a mix of baking powder and arsenic. I mean, for Chrissakes, COME ON. You insist that I wear the buttoned up, non-form fitting jacket, suitably-hemmed skirt and stockings to work. If I attempt an outfit that gives off the slightest hint of what separates the women from the girls, if I flash a kneecap here, possible cleavage there, it's not the men I have to worry about. No, it's the old, bitter hags who have only made love to Ben and Jerry for the past 20 years who are all over me in two seconds. They waddle up furiously, their scratchy nylon-encased thighs swishing together, a horrific old-lady pink manicured nail in my face. "That outfit is inappropriate for the workplace."

Fine. But Casual Friday is different, right? That's when I can actually wear what I want, with no fear of reprisal or a 21st-century witch hunt? Wrong. See first paragraph for details.

So, y'all can take your 401(k)plan and 0.5 vacation day accrual and shove it up yer ass. I'm going back to the strip club.