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That is what it sounds like when I try to speak with my foot in my mouth. Which is most of the time. I've had more than my share of embarrassing moments, when I said the wrong thing or did something really dorky.
I often blurt out something totally stupid when I meet new people at parties. This would be a classic symptom of the social awkwardness exhibited by most people who register as high as I do on the geekger-counter (doo doo doo doO dOO DOO DOODOODOO DOOOOOOOOOOOOOO).
One time at work I really pulled the worst foot-in-mouth maneuver in the history of the human race. We were busting our asses on a really
important deal for a really
important client. Let's call them KissMyAssCo. Now KissMyAssCo had been driving me crazy for months. They were extremely demanding, and I for one felt that many of their demands were both unreasonable and unecessary.
One day, KissMyAssCo calls us up and demands that I and some others on the team fly to their headquarters (KissMyAssQuarters) to go over some mundane stuff that we'd been over with them a million times before. Realize that KissMyAssQuarters is nowhere near North America- it's in KissMyAssCountry, where everyone speaks KissMyAssLanguage and smokes. I'd been there every other week for the three months prior. My body couldn't take it any more, and my wife was about to leave me for her favorite pillow, with which she had apparently developed a fond relationship while I was eating partially-thawed, freezer-burned airplane food at 30,000 feet.
So one of my co-workers sends a voice mail about this to my company's internal KissMyAssCo working group (the KissMyAssCoAssKissers), to discuss whether we really needed to fly over to KissMyAssCountry, land at KissMyAssAirport, take KissMyAss limo to KissMyAssHotel, for a repetitive meeting with KissMyAssCo's KissMyAssExecs over KissMyAssDinner at KissMyAssRestaurant while sharing a bottle of KissMyAssBooze.
I was in my mid-20s back then, and arrogant young men in their mid-20s vying to become Master of the Universe
often think it's better to shoot first and think later. Actually, they don't think
it. They just know
it. This was before I came to the sudden realization, many years later, that I know nothing. So what happens next is only appropriate for schadenfreudesters who revel in the pain of others.
Namely, my pain. So all you readers can feel free to proceed to the next paragraph.
In my haste to express my extreme frustration with the whole request, I hit reply all
on the voice mail system. If I ever find the engineer who invented that button I will thank him by sticking his devil-spawn button (phone attached) up his ass with my foot. That is, if my foot is not in my mouth at the time. I start off my voice mail ReplyAll with "This message is for the KissMyAssCo circle jerk
team...". I distinctly remember emphasizing the phrase "circle jerk
" (to represent the verbal emphasis I conveyed back then, I am italicizing the text here. How clever of me). The rest of the message was filled with sarcastic remarks that clearly expressed my disatisfaction with the whole situation. I thought my awesome 'tude
would reflect my wariness with the whole thing and generate some mutual concern among my fellow KissMyAssCoAssKissers. I had successfully pissed on KissMyAssCo's lamppost, marking my territory. Yes, I was a badass.
About 2 minutes later, my voice mail light blinks on. I am huffing and puffing, still thumping my chest after leaving my I-don't-give-a-crap-because-I'm-awesome voice mail. I pick up the handset. The person leaving the message, unfortunately for me, was Big Boss Number Two. We'll call him BBN-2 even though he is in no way affiliated with British television (neither is anything else named BBN, because it's BBC). Apparently the original voice mail wasn't sent just to the immediate KissMyAssCoAssKissers team- BBN-2 was also cc'd on all the previous voice mails, which I had replied all
My palms start to sweat. I had described a very important client's very important deal in masturbatory terms to a very senior member of my firm. And not just in normal or generally kinky masturbatory terms, but in mutual-homoerotic masturbatory terms. I figured I was so deeply in trouble that my toes were already touching the bottom of the quicksand pit. There was, after all, a response from BBN-2 to my homo-masturba-orgy voice mail
in my inbox.
How wrong I was. Oh so deeply, horribly wrong. The sandpit wound up being much, much deeper. I realized this as soon as I heard BBN-2 start his voice mail by addressing Big Boss Number One. I will call him BBN-1 for the purposes of this blog post, and to prevent myself from jumping out my second floor window right now (I'm still traumatized just thinking about it, several years later). Because even as I am calling him BBN-1 in the Blogosphere, in the office everyone calls him CEO. (Yes, I know what you are thinking. All together now: "Holy Crap"
). So the voice mail goes like this: "This is BBN-2, with a message for the KissMyAssCo team as well as for BBN-1, who was also on the cc list for all the previous voice mails. Um...I think Jack was just expressing a bit of frustration about the situation..."
For the following paragraph every time you see quotes like this: ", unless otherwise instructed please do the little two finger quote gesture with your hands, like in Austin Powers...thanks. The really sad thing is that I am just dorky by nature
, so oftentimes when I'm acting "normal", and especially when I'm trying to act "cool", I do or say something that most people who are actually "normal" find to be "awkward" at best and "dorky", "lame", or "pathetic" at the all-too-often-occurring extreme.
Side note: How funny that Mike Myers employed a written expression on film with great humorous effect, and then I employ a derivative converted-from-text-to-film-back-to-text expression, to a totally non-humorous effect. I wonder if it's the concept, the execution, or both. Who am I kidding. It's both.
These things stay with a person. I think about some embarrassing moment in my life at least once a day. Usually several times, because I shouldn't play favorites so I try to give each esteem-sucking, ego-deflating vignette
sufficient airtime. Some are from several years ago. Others are from the recent past. Several are from the past few hours. I have a vast and extensive library of them tucked away in my mind- there's certainly no lack of material. Good thing most of them will simply go with me to the grave when I die.
Except for the ones that my friends witnessed. Those are the most embarrassing ones, and will live on in infamy for at least 1 or 2 future generations as stories of dorky Uncle Jack
. After which time they will become cautionary tall tales. So if, many years hence, your kids tell their
kids the story of "The Boy Who 'Replied All'"
, you can tell your grandchildren where the story came from. I wonder how they'll work the phrase "circle jerk
" into a children's story.tags :: jokes : humor : embarrassment : workplace