I saw an advertisement for Christmas the other day (only three months away, everyone panic!) and it reminded me of an amusing present anecdote that I wish to share with you all....
A few years ago, me and one of my friends had gotten into a habit of getting each other slightly foolish gifts. I had received a back scratcher (which could have been useful had the scratching section of the back scratcher not fallen off when in use), I had given him some underwear labelled with his name, you know, just so you know you're wearing the right pants.
Anyway, this particular occasion was his birthday, and whilst shopping with a friend, we thought we'd go and look in Ann Summers and giggle childishly at the rude things. Whilst browsing, I came across a candy thong, and thought it would be the perfect hilarious birthday gift. However, when I got to the till I suddenly felt a little sheepish, in the way that all young, shy women do when purchasing underwear made of candy. To counteract my embarrassment, I placed the box faced down, in the hope that somehow whilst scanning my purchases she wouldn't notice what I had bought. She did notice. Not only did she notice, she informed me that there was a two for one sale on candy thongs, did I want a matching bra or another thong?
Flustered, I replied that I wanted another thong (I'm not entirely sure why, somehow it just seemed less embarrassing than getting an entire candy ensemble) trying to lower my voice as I could see a queue forming behind me. The woman nodded, smiled, then shouted out:
"Kelly, can you pass me another candy thong please?"
(I'm not entirely sure her name is Kelly, this did happen a long time ago, and the details I remember are more how red my face was than what the staff were named). Needless to say I got a few bemused looks from other customers.
I think the worst thing about embarrassment is that you feel it much worse than anyone else does. The Ann Summers girls didn't care that I was buying a candy thong (I'm sure its not the craziest item they have seen people buy) but the more you try and avoid being embarrassed the more it invites itself in, has a cup of tea and then slaps a pie in your face on the way out.
My friend did find the thong very amusing though. So there is a little hope at the end of the story.
Tuesday 27 September 2011
Sunday 18 September 2011
It's as easy as riding a bike...oh wait.
Hello hello hello.
I don't know if you've ever met one of those bizarre people who get to their twenties and still don't know how to do basic things like swim, or boil an egg, or ride a bike? I was one of those people. I was 20, I couldn't ride a bike, and to be quite honest, it made me quite sad. The thing was I had tried to learn a long time ago. My dad got me out and we took the stabilisers off and he was helping me wobble along the pavement. And then it got to that crucial moment, where dad made a decision to let go and see if I could ride it by myself, despite PROMISING not to let go.
It was the wrong decision.
I fell off, grazed my knee and didn't forgive my dad for a long time (In all honesty I still have not forgiven him and will have my revenge when he is too old to fight back...)
ANYWAY, I told my house-mate this little sob story and he decided that I had to learn. So one day we went down to the field near our student accommodation, and my poor house-mate wore himself out running along next to me whilst I went "weeeeee!" At the end of the day, I was riding all by myself, and feeling very proud. My house-mate suggested that since I had done so well that I should try and cycle all the way back to the house. I agreed, I mean, I was feeling like superwoman at this stage. Cycling all the way home, no problem! The only thing was, when I reached the tarmac ground instead of my safe, spongy grass, I panicked somewhat, turned sharply, and went head on into a bush. Quite a prickly one too, I recall. I went home slightly dazed, picking bits of foliage off my body, with my house-mate laughing hysterically the whole way. He said the funniest part wasn't even that I had gone into the bush, but the fact that I didn't break, I didn't attempt to turn away - I knew I was heading into the bush and calmly accepted my fate.
Whilst the event was a little embarrassing, I have to admit, I wish somebody had managed to film it. It would have been so funny to witness. Definitely worthy of a 'You've been Framed' clip. Perhaps this could be a future career of mine; I get someone to follow me round all day and record my every move, waiting for an inevitable slip, fall or skid. I sell it off to TV and Youtube and we split the proceeds. Any takers? I'll be waiting, shin pads and a helmet at the ready.
I don't know if you've ever met one of those bizarre people who get to their twenties and still don't know how to do basic things like swim, or boil an egg, or ride a bike? I was one of those people. I was 20, I couldn't ride a bike, and to be quite honest, it made me quite sad. The thing was I had tried to learn a long time ago. My dad got me out and we took the stabilisers off and he was helping me wobble along the pavement. And then it got to that crucial moment, where dad made a decision to let go and see if I could ride it by myself, despite PROMISING not to let go.
It was the wrong decision.
I fell off, grazed my knee and didn't forgive my dad for a long time (In all honesty I still have not forgiven him and will have my revenge when he is too old to fight back...)
ANYWAY, I told my house-mate this little sob story and he decided that I had to learn. So one day we went down to the field near our student accommodation, and my poor house-mate wore himself out running along next to me whilst I went "weeeeee!" At the end of the day, I was riding all by myself, and feeling very proud. My house-mate suggested that since I had done so well that I should try and cycle all the way back to the house. I agreed, I mean, I was feeling like superwoman at this stage. Cycling all the way home, no problem! The only thing was, when I reached the tarmac ground instead of my safe, spongy grass, I panicked somewhat, turned sharply, and went head on into a bush. Quite a prickly one too, I recall. I went home slightly dazed, picking bits of foliage off my body, with my house-mate laughing hysterically the whole way. He said the funniest part wasn't even that I had gone into the bush, but the fact that I didn't break, I didn't attempt to turn away - I knew I was heading into the bush and calmly accepted my fate.
Whilst the event was a little embarrassing, I have to admit, I wish somebody had managed to film it. It would have been so funny to witness. Definitely worthy of a 'You've been Framed' clip. Perhaps this could be a future career of mine; I get someone to follow me round all day and record my every move, waiting for an inevitable slip, fall or skid. I sell it off to TV and Youtube and we split the proceeds. Any takers? I'll be waiting, shin pads and a helmet at the ready.
Monday 12 September 2011
Learning the important lesson that waitressing and squids do not mix
Hello folks,
Today, having been searching online for jobs, applying for jobs, and generally overusing the words 'reliable' and 'passionate', it has got me thinking back over previous jobs I have had, and of course, previous embarrassing moments.
I used to work in a restaurant, which on one hand is a great job for me because I love being around people. On the other hand, it is a terrible job for me, because I am about as clumsy and lacking in common sense as any human being can be. Now I had several 'mishaps' over my waitressing career, but one in particular always comes to mind and makes me shudder. I had just started my shift and it was incredibly busy, and needless to say, I was in a bit of a tizz. In this case, there was a big table of ten people, and I, rather ambitiously, was trying to balance a dozen heavy plates on my arm (not a good idea as I have very weedy arms). The pile was teetering a little, and some of the more sober of the group were looking on rather anxiously as I shakily added their plate to the collection. (Can I add here, it really doesn't make a waitress feel any more confident when a whole table falls into absolute silence to watch her clear the plates).
As I tried to pick up the last plate, my tower of plates wobbled dangerously, to the gasps of the horrified customers. In panic, I grabbed hold of the plates with my other hand, but it was too late for one dirty knife, which fell out of my hand... and into the customer's beer. Beetroot red by this point, I assured the customer I would get him a new beer (he was quite happy with this, luckily for me it wasn't his first beer of the evening by far). After dumping the plates and quickly getting another beer, I rushed back to the table. But unfortunately for me, the story didn't end there. My shoes were ones with the little cat heel (the kind that get stuck in grates and break any lady-like demeanor you had going on) and on the top step I tripped, letting out an unstoppably loud squeal, and spilling the fresh beer all over the wall. Tell me, how can you get back any pretense of calm, confident waitressing after that debacle? At the end of the shift I discovered the table had left me a rather large sympathy tip. Unfortunately it wasn't enough to cover the price of humiliation.
So the moral of this story, children, is, when your mum advises you to buy comfortable footwear, you do it. Because whilst big, square sensible shoes may not look pretty, they are a whole lot prettier than falling on your face. Something to think about.
Today, having been searching online for jobs, applying for jobs, and generally overusing the words 'reliable' and 'passionate', it has got me thinking back over previous jobs I have had, and of course, previous embarrassing moments.
I used to work in a restaurant, which on one hand is a great job for me because I love being around people. On the other hand, it is a terrible job for me, because I am about as clumsy and lacking in common sense as any human being can be. Now I had several 'mishaps' over my waitressing career, but one in particular always comes to mind and makes me shudder. I had just started my shift and it was incredibly busy, and needless to say, I was in a bit of a tizz. In this case, there was a big table of ten people, and I, rather ambitiously, was trying to balance a dozen heavy plates on my arm (not a good idea as I have very weedy arms). The pile was teetering a little, and some of the more sober of the group were looking on rather anxiously as I shakily added their plate to the collection. (Can I add here, it really doesn't make a waitress feel any more confident when a whole table falls into absolute silence to watch her clear the plates).
As I tried to pick up the last plate, my tower of plates wobbled dangerously, to the gasps of the horrified customers. In panic, I grabbed hold of the plates with my other hand, but it was too late for one dirty knife, which fell out of my hand... and into the customer's beer. Beetroot red by this point, I assured the customer I would get him a new beer (he was quite happy with this, luckily for me it wasn't his first beer of the evening by far). After dumping the plates and quickly getting another beer, I rushed back to the table. But unfortunately for me, the story didn't end there. My shoes were ones with the little cat heel (the kind that get stuck in grates and break any lady-like demeanor you had going on) and on the top step I tripped, letting out an unstoppably loud squeal, and spilling the fresh beer all over the wall. Tell me, how can you get back any pretense of calm, confident waitressing after that debacle? At the end of the shift I discovered the table had left me a rather large sympathy tip. Unfortunately it wasn't enough to cover the price of humiliation.
So the moral of this story, children, is, when your mum advises you to buy comfortable footwear, you do it. Because whilst big, square sensible shoes may not look pretty, they are a whole lot prettier than falling on your face. Something to think about.
Friday 2 September 2011
For your amusement today... the awkward first day at work
Hello happy readers,
With there being so much stress and pressure in the world, I have decided to relieve all your woes, sadness and angst, by posting embarrassing things that have occurred to me. Or at least give you a little chuckle once a week. So, without further ado...
Last week I was on work experience with a theatre company in London. Now I don't know about you, but I always feel a bit like a lost child on her first day of school when I do work experience, and this occasion was no exception. So, I arrive a few minutes early, having waited round the corner for ten minutes so I wasn't too early and appeared frighteningly eager. I meet the director, meet the other volunteers, follow him around awkwardly whilst he shows me the building - it's all going ok so far. Then the director takes me into the dressing room, and in the middle of the room is a pair of big, chunky army boots. The director looks confused, picks them up, turns vaguely in my direction and says:
"This is strange. Are these yours?"
Now, unbeknown to me, an actor has walked in and was stood directly behind me. But I must stress, to my knowledge, I was the only one in the room he was talking to. Of course, I was a little confused by this question, but not wanting to be rude I replied;
"Um, no. No I don't think those are mine."
The director looked very confused and explained he was talking to Jerry, the actor who had snuck in behind me. OH DEAR. What had possessed me to answer? Of course they weren't my shoes! I had never even been in the room before. What, did I think the director may have assumed that I'd have sent some men's army boots in the post to arrive at work before me, just in case the admin job involved any hiking/marching? Needless to say the embarrassment didn't help calm my first day nerves, but you'll be glad to know the director didn't bring the boots up again in the two weeks I was there (at least not to my face anway). I can't explain how or why my weird mind works, all I can do is write up it's bad judgement for your personal amusement.
So... Until the next embarrassing moment, have a nice, shame-free week!
Squid
With there being so much stress and pressure in the world, I have decided to relieve all your woes, sadness and angst, by posting embarrassing things that have occurred to me. Or at least give you a little chuckle once a week. So, without further ado...
Last week I was on work experience with a theatre company in London. Now I don't know about you, but I always feel a bit like a lost child on her first day of school when I do work experience, and this occasion was no exception. So, I arrive a few minutes early, having waited round the corner for ten minutes so I wasn't too early and appeared frighteningly eager. I meet the director, meet the other volunteers, follow him around awkwardly whilst he shows me the building - it's all going ok so far. Then the director takes me into the dressing room, and in the middle of the room is a pair of big, chunky army boots. The director looks confused, picks them up, turns vaguely in my direction and says:
"This is strange. Are these yours?"
Now, unbeknown to me, an actor has walked in and was stood directly behind me. But I must stress, to my knowledge, I was the only one in the room he was talking to. Of course, I was a little confused by this question, but not wanting to be rude I replied;
"Um, no. No I don't think those are mine."
The director looked very confused and explained he was talking to Jerry, the actor who had snuck in behind me. OH DEAR. What had possessed me to answer? Of course they weren't my shoes! I had never even been in the room before. What, did I think the director may have assumed that I'd have sent some men's army boots in the post to arrive at work before me, just in case the admin job involved any hiking/marching? Needless to say the embarrassment didn't help calm my first day nerves, but you'll be glad to know the director didn't bring the boots up again in the two weeks I was there (at least not to my face anway). I can't explain how or why my weird mind works, all I can do is write up it's bad judgement for your personal amusement.
So... Until the next embarrassing moment, have a nice, shame-free week!
Squid
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