Yesterday was Wednesday and I dozed in warm comfort in my Mom's guest room. A Bagel and a rush into the city. Damn damn damn, I'm late. Shit.

It was very important that we all show up by 9:00 AM. A camera crew was coming to interview Tony about his business incubator, and he was incubating like hell by having Zappos banners all over the office.

I entered in a rush, but I was not the last one in. My illustrious colleage jfi was still out, and others, too numerous to mention. The office shook with the efforts of all to contain their excitement. Normally uncombed hair was still fighting the grip of gravity and spit trying to return to the natural state.

The site of crisp 'business casual' on normally shorts clad bodies was, well, amusing. The Zappos Uniform tends towards t-shirts (usually Zappos t-shirts) and jeans or 'worse.' The oxymoronic (or just plain moronic?) 'Business Casual' is thankfully seldom in evidence. But on this special day we all wore our khaki best.

Until jfi arrived...he had made no effort, none whatsoever! To moderate his slacker appearence in deferance to our cinematic guests. But...aside from him we all gleamed.

I sat in nausea and tried to program. In some strange twist, I have discovered myself to be shy and retiring around groups of strangers (and what is more strange than a camera?).

I tried to share my discomfort with my often times sympathetic colleaque (and Eagle Scout), Brook, but was met with scorn! He found some twisted parallel between my 'stage fright' and the disease of our mutual colleaque to having her soul captured by my magic picture box.

What is the connection? This person doesn't like to have her picture taken because she believes (rightly) that photographs tend not to capture her natural radiant beauty. I, on the other hand, fear groups and cable network camera crews because of a ... well, I don't know why, but I am sure there is a reason. A damn good reason, better than a simple fear of looking ugly on film.

(more will follow, including maybe, my knock down fight at the gas station! See next entry)