Awkward Moments

In relation to facebook awkwardness, when someone you unfriended during a facebook purge adds you again a few months/years later and you're like 'Did they realise I unfriended them and want to be friends with me so much they forgave my rejection and added me again or did they not give enough of a shit about me to notice I unfriended them and only added me again for superficial/insincere reasons?'

I either wouldn't add them back or I would add them back but not let them see my wall (and hopefully you can still see theirs so you realise what losers they are).

My ex wife keeps showing up in FB and G+ friend recommendations. Actively blocking her seems like a bizarrely passive-agressive action, so I just ignore it.

My posts showing up on my ex's feed & her mentioning them to me is always a little awkward.

As is the friend request from a random lady fixieskidder from here.

I normally add people, even if I have only the slightest inkling who they are (I am that desparate for validation)..

This time, however - I haven't a scooby.

Adds TW2.

waits by laptop

Today, while eating my lunch at my desk, I managed to spill a substantial amount of veggie lasagne down my top - a cream coloured top. I said to my colleagues "oh don't worry, I've got a spare top in my desk drawer and I've got a vest on underneath what I'm wearing now so I can change tops straight away!"

As I whipped my cream-and-lasagne coloured top over my head I realised that I wasn't wearing a vest underneath. We're all pretending it didn't happen.

Ha!

oops

Good work.

Oh hats! Let's just hope you were at least wearing a bra.

I gave up on cream/white tops many moons ago. It was either that or start wearing bibs.

I did something similar (minus boobz) whipping off some over trousers that took my jeans with them once. Twice, actually.

I tried on rogan's tight swrve jeans in the middle of moss side, probably more awkward for rogan and the locals.

well, obviously. I'd be surprised if you'd flash your boobs by removing trousers...

You've not seen my boobs.

I tried on rogan's tight swrve jeans in the middle of moss side, probably more awkward for rogan and the locals.

don't they all wear fucking onesies to go shopping round there? it was on the news.

True, probably just awkward for rogan and the rest of polo then.

Not that I want to bunch rogan in with polo, that would be awkward.

Years back my not quite as frail as she is now gran fancied a mobility scooter to help bring her sherry bounty back from Oddbins.

My mum and I went along with her to a mobility scooter showroom - a place until that point I'd never considered existed. Go faster stripes, spoilers, automatic/manual gearboxes...all motorised aids to pensionable stupor stood with their baskets begging to be stuffed with bottles. Quickly I became bored, as surly old enough to know betters do. To entertain myself while my family talked shop with the rep with pound signs in her eyes I took to sitting on a few fine examples to pretend I was leader of an outlaw blue-rinse brigade.

I quickly realised, unlike a car showroom, all these scooters were already turned on - no key required. Picking a hefty example I began inching it forward and backward a few inches, instead of just remaining stationary. As I gained confidence I pulled on the accelerator lever with a bit more vigour - backwards, forwards...except quicker, but always returning to the spot where the vehicle rested.

Until I yanked that lever too hard and it became stuck in the GO position. These things show a quick pair of heels when pushed. Immediately I tried to release the lever but it had wedged against the steering bars, meaning I was stuck in very quickly forwards in a tiny showroom. Within seconds I was hurtling towards my family stood talking with the sales rep, me still steering this scooter but not in control of it. Wisely I veered away from them as they dived out of the way, my screams making it clear I was trying to safely stop this very heavy machine but, like a captain of a ship, was not about to leap clear of it myself. Wherever it went, so did I.

I was heading for the only other couple shopping there - a very elderly woman and her son. It was too late for them to take evasive action - this poor woman brought the vehicle to a stop by me colliding with her leg at full pelt. She fell to the ground. The sales rep rushed over and turned off the ignition that had escaped my panicked attention and freed the lever. The old woman groaned but could not stand up, while her son quite rightly looked ready to throttle me. My family were aghast, for I had shamed them. Turns out this innocent woman, looking for a vehicle much like my gran, had been released from hospital that very day following treatment to the very leg I'd bashed with a scooter I shouldn't have been dicking about on.

Along came the ambulance to ferry her off again to the ward from which she's just been released, her son ever closer to violence towards me than ever. The sales rep saw nothing but a negligence/insurance claim. I saw nothing but another example of being responsible for the worst imaginable happening.

Have had so, so many. They are pretty much a daily occurrence.

This morning I was waiting for the lift for a while (7th floor) and surprisingly it came up from the 3rd floor - You can tell when the lift has been called on another floor so i presumed I'd be waiting for a while when it started up towards me. We get quite a lot of randoms staying in serviced apartments in our block. Anyway, while I was pleasantly surprised, the shocked look on the large guy standing in the lift told me that he was also taken aback. I stepped in, "Morning mate, bit windy today eh?" and he just awkwardly rolled his lips and then stared at the floor.

As the doors closed and the awful, stale walker's crisps and sulphur smell of his rancid fart hit me I could only turn around and stare at the doors which were taking forever to close. It was a long descent.

Last night whilst asleep I managed to drool all over sumo's face.

TMI thread >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The awkwardness was you posting this right?

Good job it wasn't a construction vehicle showroom you were visiting, ey?

I always knew those scooter things were dangerous.

Do the drivers pay road tax? Do they wear helmets? Are they insured?

Pfft. Thought not.

Years back my not quite as frail as she is now gran fancied a mobility scooter to help bring her sherry bounty back from Oddbins.

My mum and I went along with her to a mobility scooter showroom - a place until that point I'd never considered existed. Go faster stripes, spoilers, automatic/manual gearboxes...all motorised aids to pensionable stupor stood with their baskets begging to be stuffed with bottles. Quickly I became bored, as surly old enough to know betters do. To entertain myself while my family talked shop with the rep with pound signs in her eyes I took to sitting on a few fine examples to pretend I was leader of an outlaw blue-rinse brigade.

I quickly realised, unlike a car showroom, all these scooters were already turned on - no key required. Picking a hefty example I began inching it forward and backward a few inches, instead of just remaining stationary. As I gained confidence I pulled on the accelerator lever with a bit more vigour - backwards, forwards...except quicker, but always returning to the spot where the vehicle rested.

Until I yanked that lever too hard and it became stuck in the GO position. These things show a quick pair of heels when pushed. Immediately I tried to release the lever but it had wedged against the steering bars, meaning I was stuck in very quickly forwards in a tiny showroom. Within seconds I was hurtling towards my family stood talking with the sales rep, me still steering this scooter but not in control of it. Wisely I veered away from them as they dived out of the way, my screams making it clear I was trying to safely stop this very heavy machine but, like a captain of a ship, was not about to leap clear of it myself. Wherever it went, so did I.

I was heading for the only other couple shopping there - a very elderly woman and her son. It was too late for them to take evasive action - this poor woman brought the vehicle to a stop by me colliding with her leg at full pelt. She fell to the ground. The sales rep rushed over and turned off the ignition that had escaped my panicked attention and freed the lever. The old woman groaned but could not stand up, while her son quite rightly looked ready to throttle me. My family were aghast, for I had shamed them. Turns out this innocent woman, looking for a vehicle much like my gran, had been released from hospital that very day following treatment to the very leg I'd bashed with a scooter I shouldn't have been dicking about on.

Along came the ambulance to ferry her off again to the ward from which she's just been released, her son ever closer to violence towards me than ever. The sales rep saw nothing but a negligence/insurance claim. I saw nothing but another example of being responsible for the worst imaginable happening.

I have a few awkard language mistakes.

I was in an offy in manchester with my Norwegian missus. Eyeing up the 6 for 4 offer on Carlsberg export. Bit guitted theres only 4 in the fridge.

When she walks up to the young guy behind the couter and calmly asks 'Can we have sex here?'

I giggle to myself, for my dirty imagination. Then she says it again to the now zombie looking cashier.

I spend a moment frozen in performance angst. Before realising sex is Norwegian for six.

I, of course, waited as long as possible before explaining to the guy behind the till.

The second one was altogether far more arkward.

I did a course of free language lessons when I moved to Norway. I didnt need them, and they were far too basic. But it was a free qualification to put on job apps. My teacher was'nt much older than I was at the time. And, while I never flirted, or acted inappropiatly, I did engage in friendly banter. Untill that day.

I wanted further explaination regarding the difference between 'many' and 'much'. Thinking of an example of something I would quantify in terms of weight or volume, but never number. I chose rice, and give the following examples.

Would you like some rice?
How much rice do you want?
I can give you a lot of rice.

She went quite red, and I knew I was getting something wrong. So I just kept digging.

Turns out I was offering to spank her.

^ and her reply was?