You're dressed in spiffy new flat-front dress pants (subtly pinstriped!) and a faggy-chic, body-conscious, open-collar dress shirt (in the perfect shade of blue to complement your eyes) ... and everyone on the client side shows up in a goddamn suit.
You discover early on that five hours of sleep just isn't going to get you through your meeting. And that nobody speaking at your meeting has the power to keep you awake. And that nobody in the room has the power to fire up the blood-pumping parts of your imagination.
You cross your legs and shift your weight in such a way that your underwear twists funny and somehow your penis ends up wedged in your armpit and your left nut ends up in your right sock. And the meeting still has an hour to go. And there's no way you can put your boys back where they belong without looking like a total pervert.
But at least your hair looks good. You hope.