It is nearing the end of the work day and a coworker has one last question before they walk out the door. You are seated at your desk trying to think of something profound, but your enthusiasm for life crests and you get a little jiggy. (There’s music in the background, and it is almost quitting time.) Your coworker gives you a look which is a confused mix of pity and amusement; like you’re some poor, starving refugee from Saturday Night Fever.

Fortunately, both of us survived the incident.