Awkward Moments

through the letterbox when the mailman arrives.

It's worth a try.

Embarrassing injuries thread.>>>>>>>>>>

"sorry,we called while you were hanging out, your post is in the hedge."

Hehe.

"sorry,we called while you were hanging out, your post is in the hedge still stuck in the letterbox."
.

First job where I had to deal with customers, a guy came in to see my boss, I asked his name..
"Div"
"Div?"
"Yeah, Div."
"OK.." (restrain laughter, call boss who is downstairs) "Div here to see you.."
"Div?!"
"I don't know just come upstairs" (Div is glaring at me, I am red and tearful)
(Boss enters)
Boss: "Oh hi Dave"
He was Scottish.

^ Ha, ha, fuckin', ha!

Repped!

Talking to my friend Rachel about Emma being a bitch.... except it was Emma sat next to me not Rachel.

You in an awkward situation?! Never! :)

Ha! You bastard! Thanks for reminding me... can I put that on here? ;)

no!

First job where I had to deal with customers, a guy came in to see my boss, I asked his name..
"Div"
"Div?"
"Yeah, Div."
"OK.." (restrain laughter, call boss who is downstairs) "Div here to see you.."
"Div?!"
"I don't know just come upstairs" (Div is glaring at me, I am red and tearful)
(Boss enters)
Boss: "Oh hi Dave"
He was Scottish.

So good.

I'm sure I remember spending most of my youth feeling chronically embarrassed, but now I can't think of a single decent story.

what about that time you wanted to tell a group of internet weirdos about an embarrassing moment you once had then complete forgot what it was you wanted to say?

not really awkward, but the Div story struck a chord:

Gathering for a midnight ride from HPC to Brighton about seven years ago and being introduced by our esteemed leader to each other, I greeted a chap who announced himself as Id.
"Sorry, didn't quite catch that..."

"My name's Id".

"Ah. So what's your name in real life?"

"Id, like I sid".

Oops, NZ accent suddenly made sense.

not really awkward, but the Div story struck a chord:

Gathering for a midnight ride from HPC to Brighton about seven years ago and being introduced by our esteemed leader to each other, I greeted a chap who announced himself as Id.
"Sorry, didn't quite catch that..."

"My name's Id".

"Ah. So what's your name in real life?"

"Id, like I sid".

Oops, NZ accent suddenly made sense.

For reference:

Id & Div remind me of the time I was in A&E, having been clonked on the head.

I was absolutly fine, other than scalp lacerations, but the doctor insisted I have a full scan, as I could not answer his simple question:

"Do you have a haddock?"

I have a kiwi friend. We met out raving and I put his name into my phone book as Bin. It was about 6 months later I discovered he was called Ben. Even then if I called his flat and asked for Ben his housemates (who all came from the poor mans Australia) would not know who I wanted, "uz Bin un?" would get the appropriate response.

My NZ mate is actually building his new dick at the moment...

Is it a bug dick?

Medium size dick.

When we create presentations for clients we refer to them as a deck. The kiwi guy in the office last week announced "don't worry, I'll just stick it in my dick"...

I once had a bit of a rant to my friend on IM, about my extremely important US client - who had the same name as him - when he was over from the States and sitting right opposite me.

I was having a right old whinge, then suddenly realised that -*** horror of horrors*** - I was slagging off my client, to my client, not my friend at all.

I felt faint, I started to sweat, I begged the earth to swallow me. I even thought about walking out of the office and never coming back.

To this day I don't know how I managed to bullshit my way out it and keep my job.

..calling your teacher 'mum' at school

I got to the Shoreditch end of Hackney Road, approached a bus and there was a gamine, very pretty girl sat by the window. We made eye contact and she smiled. She was lovely, elfin, think Nicole Kidman in Birth:

The lights were red so I pulled up next to her and put my hand out to lean on one of those crowd-control barriers on my left.

It was loose.

It was attached to anything. I started to topple and slowly tipped sideways and crashed to the ground. I was clipped in and scrabbling like a ladybird on its back. After about a year I managed to get up, face burning, the girl was looking straight ahead and her mouth was tense.

We never did get married.