Trying to Alleviate Boredom

I will spend twenty-four hours over today, tomorrow, and Saturday, sitting in a conference room at a hotel. I am approximately two hours into it and I'm already dying of boredom. I tried coming back from lunch late, going to the bathroom, and buying some snacks. I'm checking every once in a while to make sure I can remember where I parked my car. I tried practicing sitting with Zen-like detachment, but I about fell asleep. I tried listening to my phone messages, but I got to the part where the Professor said "...and then the three of us got into bed and..." and my phone died. I'm contemplating masturbation. The Shill and I had a professor in college who had a hole in her doctoral robe pocket so that, she claimed, she could amuse herself while our college president droned on at Commencement. Now, I think I could scoot up under the table far enough that I could get up under my skirt with no one noticing--I mean, right now I keep looking up and nodding like I'm paying attention and I'm sure I just look like I'm taking copious notes, when really I'm amusing myself by jotting all this down so I can type it up later and no one is the wiser. So, I think I could, maybe, pull off some downstairs action, since the woman sitting next to me has sneaked off for some lunch. But the fact remains that the only think I do more than talk about my tits is absentmindedly touch them. Someone would notice that. Still, you hear about women who can squeeze their legs and shift around in their chairs discreetly and bring themselves to hands' free pleasure. Those women, if they really exist, are very lucky and I envy them. Ha, now I'm totally looking around the room trying to guess whether any of those women are here and as bored as me. I will be listening for quiet, satisfied sighs. That may be my only tip-off.