I don’t generally get embarrassed. Not because I’m one of these people who claim to have thick skin, then go and rock themselves to sleep while replaying every humiliating thing they’ve ever done – but more because I’m forever tripping over, calling people the wrong names or congratulating someone on their pregnancy and then finding that they’re not pregnant. Or, in fact, even a woman. So, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learnt to pick my battles.
So, with that in mind, let me tell you about the three horribly embarrassing moments from last week, where I’ve genuinely considered leaving the real world and going to live under somebody’s stairs.
There was some compulsory training on my first day of my new job, which was good because I got to meet a few people and calm my nerves a bit, before getting stuck in. Or at least it would have calmed my nerves had I remembered to turn my 10am alarm off. Which I hadn’t.
So, at 10am on the dot, just as the HR department was walking the room through some serious company policies, the very quiet, but very significant opening of ‘the lion sleeps tonight’ tore through the silence. The next two minutes was a blind panic of scrambling around my Mary Poppins-esque handbag while my phone screamed “a whimba way a whimba way” louder and louder to a room of people desperately trying to pretend nothing was happening.
The next horribly mortifying moment was at the launch party for my lovely friend, @ScouseBirdProbs, new app last week. The party was catered by Nandos, so there was this big, five-tiered platter of chicken wings on the table I was at.
It was one of these fancy tables with a ice bucket in the middle – that, I assume, you’re meant to buy a bottle of expensive vodka for. But, being poor and uncool, I hadn’t. So, I go to reach for my distinctly average drink and I accidentally knocked the whole platter of chicken wings into the ice bucket. Naturally I panicked and tried to fish them out before even more people noticed.
By the time I’d managed throw most of them back onto the platter and had at least half the room roll their eyes at me, I was so mortified I couldn’t even bring myself to tell the people who came over for a piece of chicken what had happened. I ended up spending the rest of the evening keeping my eyes firmly fixed on my drink as people who hadn’t witnessed chicken-gate walked past saying, “these are a bit soggy aren’t they”.
And finally… for my second day at work, (where I assume I’m already probably known as the ‘awhimbaway girl’) I wore an adorable black dress that I’d bought the weekend before to try and convey some sort of professionalism.
So, at lunch I strutted out to buy myself a little pot of leaves, (I’m on the salad graft at the minute in a desperate attempt to get fit as fuck for Summer. Which means I’m an emotional wreck and constantly on the verge of throwing a shoe at someone.) feeling like Andi from The Devil Wears Prada, when a rogue breeze blew my dress up around my shoulders.
It was in that moment that I realised my dress might be adorable but it had absolutely no weight to it, so even so much as a desk fan had the power to strip me of any last shreds of dignity.
Every time I held the front down, the back would blow up and vice versa so, (in a desperate attempt to avoid half of Liverpool seeing my ‘wash day’ knickers) I decided to run across the road and take shelter in a shop. But somehow, as I thundered across the road like a baby rhino, the wind blew my shoe clear off and I spent the next five minutes chasing it across the dual carriageway whilst simultaneously bearing my arse, dodging traffic and wanting to die inside.
Anyone else made a show of themselves this week? Anyone? Please…?
Until next time… x