Blimey, I’ve done some embarrassing things over the years.
In my second job, I worked for BT for a few years as an operator. I wasn’t too keen on the Directory Enquiries part of the job, although some days were better than others. I did enjoy working on the switchboard answering 100 and 999 calls. The switchboard was the old plug type, and the headsets were great big trumpet things that looked as though they came out of the ark. Just before I left, the switchboard was being replaced by a new-fangled computer system, which I also had the pleasure to use for a few months. No, the job wasn’t embarrassing, although it got a bit iffy when I said the wrong thing. What was embarrassing was what I did to my hair.
There was an engineer who had his hair quite fluffy. It was sticking up, but not spiky, if that makes sense. It did actually look good. And you must remember this was the early to mid eighties, and everyone had big hair. I wanted my hair to look better. Not that I was competing with this engineer, but because I felt inspired by him. We never really spoke, so I suppose he inspired me from afar. I bought myself some hairspray (I think it was called Falcon or something – I’m not sure if it still available today) and styled my hair in a floppy yet spiky way. Now my hair is extremely strong. It is fine and very straight. And I’m sure it does what it wants to do. So I went to work with my hair sticking up all over the place, held into place with this hairspray, until I got outside, in the wind, and had to wait for the bus. By the time I had got to work, only half of the hair was up, the other half was down and goodness only knows how the back was. I also had to wear the vice-like trumpet headset all day, so there was also a ridge going over the top. Embarrassing enough, but I think I wore my hair like that for about a month. I don’t think I ever looked at the engineer again after that.
Moving forward a few years, there was a talent night in one of the local pubs, which took place every Sunday night. It was a bit like ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ but on a much smaller scale and without the judges. It was open to everyone. In the beginning, only a handful of people attended. The acts were funny, and entertaining. And the nights were good. A lot of my family went, and every so often one of them would go on stage and perform a song, or dance or mini show. One of our friends suggested that we (Me and her) perform the following week. I thought it was a good idea. I was drinking wine, quantro and lemonade in a tall glass at the time which will probably explain why I said yes. Well, we practised the song (“You’re the one that I want” from Grease – I’m not sure what its correct title is) using plastic spoons as microphones, and drinking lemon Hooch and eating strawberries. We were good. Maybe to ourselves, but we were. We were ready to perform. The Sunday night arrived, and we walked into the room. It was full to overflowing. Our party always sat in the corner at the back, so there were seats for us, but I have no idea why it was so busy that night. I’d mentioned to a few people that I was doing the song with my friend, but that could not have been the reason why so many people turned up. Well that was it. Being the shy type, my nerve went. We got up on stage – we’d talked one of my cousins in to providing some backing harmonies for us – and the second problem occurred. The musicians didn’t know the music. So we asked them just to strum their guitars, and we would sing anyway. My friend started singing, but the wrong words. I just stood there, and someone from the room shouted “What does the dummy do?” I just started laughing and had to leave the stage. Luckily the place was dark, so I don’t think my luminous red face was that noticeable as I walked through the crowd to my seat in the corner.
I love my embarrassing moments. Well, not all of them, and there really are some humdingers that I really do want to forget. I’ll use EFT on the memory of these extremely awkward moments to see if that will make them feel any better – I’m sure it will. The way I see things now, there is no point regretting anything I have done – they’re done, and that’s that. The two examples above have only come back to mind since I started writing this blog, so I’m sure there will be more. I think I can see some intense tapping coming up very soon.
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