Deciphering t-shirts

Conservationism thy name is me most of the time when it comes to
dressing for work. Recently, when my attire drew the attention of a
room-full of people I was genuinely embarrassed. I was wearing a
T-shirt that had something scribbled across it. I tried figuring out
what it was, but couldn't.

My father's handwriting is like steaming noodles. It is in a hurry
to get eaten, and like peas dotting the otherwise hurried noodles,
the neat numerals light up the page. Therefore, it can be reasonably
agreed that I have some good experience with deciphering noodles,
but I gave up on this one. It was most probably the designer's
signature I finally decided. I tested the waters by wearing said
T-shirt to the park and am still alive. Therefore, it could not have
been offensive.

I walked into the meeting room, and everyone asked me what it said.
I blushed a deep red and confessed that I didn't know, only to have
the room guessing. I don't know about you, but I usually opt for a
quiet corner in larger meetings, and don the vaguely interested
look. I will melt into the background and sink through the bottom of
the chair hole. Having the spotlight turned on me was quite the jar.
I must remember to go back to shopping in the old ladies section, if
I have to don the interested yet dreamy looks in meetings.