life’s goof ups

Where is that pile of sand when you need it?

You would rather just die then and there or at least fall of the face of the earth. Yet they sometimes end up being your funniest anecdotes. Here is one of my most embarrassing moments. And I’ve added a friend’s incidents to take the edge off.

Let me begin with mine. I had friend that I had been neglecting for some time. I had wanted to ring her for months but just didn’t get around to it, which made dialing the number all the more difficult. You know how it is?

At the time the men and women were working in two different locations.

“I had seen him pass by a few times, but managed to avoid meeting him”

Then one day, by executive decision the two locations were merged, and the men’s department moved into our building (I can say that the Christmas parties livened up from then on), Among them was the boyfriend of the friend whom I hadn’t rung for months. I had seen him pass by a few times but had managed to avoid him by turning away just in time. But as I was heading for the coffee corner I saw him standing there, I thought, time to get it over with. Don’t be a coward, just say hi to the guy.

The boyfriend in question had rather nonchalantly messy hair, was a bit on the heavy side yet looked really great. I went up next to him and softly tickled his hand to get his attention. It’s like saying: look who’s standing next to you.

He turned towards me and to my surprise it wasn’t the boyfriend but the Editor in Chief of Playboy magazine and I had just caressed his hand quite suggestively – panic. I stammered that I thought he was someone else and named the boyfriend. At which he was a bit insulted (the boyfriend was apparently much fatter). but then he added that if I was enjoying it, I was welcome to keep on tickling. Oh man, how embarrassing!

Another painful situation: I somehow ended up at the Hilton bar with a fashion friend, a hairstylist and a pregnant woman 9sounds like a joke already). The hairstylist (a man) was rather feminine, he had refined gestures, medium-length hair, was well-dressed; you know the type.

“Do you know who was just at my checkout?”

An hour later he went to the loo, at that moment my fashion friend smirked, “What a fairy. He even said he was going to be a father. I not buying that for one second.” The pregnant woman in our company had not yet said much. But her timing was a one off, “Oh, he’s not gay. And he is indeed going to be a father.” She said pointing at her pregnant belly. “The father of “our” baby.” Oops…

Mirjam s an old friend of mine. She had a younger bother who suffered from a kidney disease giving him an unusual appearance. Bart, his name was, was a TV presenter in spite of his small size, big ears and wrinkled face. I loved Bart and his quirky head, but handsome he was not. One day Mirjam and Bart went to the supermarket. Once in the queue for the checkout, Mirjam discovered she had forgotten the milk. “You pay and go to the car and I’ll go and get the milk.” Bart was already gone when Mirjam arrived at the same checkout with the milk. “Guess who was just here at my checkout?”, the checkout girl had recognized Bart: “It was Bart” she added. “And he’s SHORT! SHORT and UGLY!” Mirjam looked at her blanky. “Yep. That was Bart. Small, ugly and… my brother.” That poor, poor checkout girl. I reckon she never got over the shock.

Point of the story: if you commit a blunder, be reassured. You are not alone.

BY May-Britt Mobach
Jongleert doordeweek met kinderen en laptops, vermoedt een serieuze shopverslaving en probeert lichtelijk obsessief latte- en wijngebruik van zich af te schudden door overmatig veel te sporten.
Afbeelding van May-Britt Mobach