Peanut butter and jelly

Taking off my jacket in my office after class yesterday, I was surprised and mortified to encounter a glob of something sticky on the inside of one of the lapels. Upon closer examination, it was revealed to be a dollop of peanut butter and jelly, which had presumably been deposited there when I ate my sandwich during one of the most amazingly eclectic class discussions I have ever had the good fortune to officiate in my teaching career (I'll say more about that in another post later today). Now, I ate my sandwich during the first hour or a two-and-a-half-hour class, and then got into my car and drove back over to the parking lot and then walked, accompanied, to the residence hall in which my office is located. And I didn't take off my jacket for several minutes after arriving, spending that time doing a few administrative tasks in full view of more than one student. When I did take off my jacket and found the offending smear, I also discovered that the substance had managed to get on both jacket lapels and on my tie, necessitating the dry cleaning of the whole outfit (since a little water from the bathroom sink was insufficient to dispose of the mess).

But here's the really important question: why did no one point this out to me? Why didn't someone say something? Was it because:

1) no one else saw it;

2) people saw but didn't think it appropriate to mention the fact that I was wearing part of my lunch;

3) people saw but figured that I had some kind of bizarre good reason for having a pb&j suit-and-tie combination;

4) people saw it but thought it was just completely normal and in-character for me to have food on my suit?

Puzzling. Intriguing in an ethnomethodological sense, too.