‘Hashtag Awks’

it's summer time!

 

We all get those moments of intense anxiety that suddenly appears when you want the earth to open up and swallow you. I thought I would recall some of these memories in my life when I have had to hold my head down in complete awkwardness . I would love to hear your #awks moments too. Please give me a chuckle by leaving them in the comments.

Here are just 4 of mine:

The ‘1st day on the job’ incident

So it’s my first day in my ‘proper’ job, I had been working at Tesco during my A Levels and was now appointed as Checkout Manager in the leafy suburbs of Surrey. I really wanted to make a good impression and opened my crimpoline jacket and polyester slacks (uniform), and ironed my shirt the night before. I arrived nice and early and was told that ‘Cookie’ would introduce me to my team. Cookie was a ‘voluptuous’ creature, the store fund-raiser, union rep and quite simply the ‘self appointed’ matriarch head cashier. Cookie had a sadistic sense of humour and decided to introduce me to Wendy straight away.

“Thats Wendy” , she said , “Wendy always goes on till 24″, don’t upset her on your first day…ignore what the schedule says”.

“Good Morning Wendy, Im Matt, lovely to meet you” I said, “It says here you are down for till 19, but I’ve made an adjustment to put you on your favourite till 24″, I explained.

‘Till 24” she said… “Im not sitting on till 24 all day”, she abruptly informed me.  (Confused now). “I only do break relief, I can’t sit down for too long.”

“Oh why is that then?” I asked inquisitively.. (and I wish I hadn’t)

‘Because I have a really painful vagina!” she exclaimed, and if this wasn’t enough information, she proceeded to tell me that she had suffered a prolapse and was undergoing acupuncture”  …Please stop, I was thinking, but of course I showed empathy and let her continue to  describe how many needles she had stuck in her clacker the night before. I could see Cookie in the background….howling like an injured husky.  I had passed the ‘new boy test’. #awks

 

The ‘Drury Lane’ incident

The work’s social committee organised  a trip to the theatre….’My Fair Lady’, if you don’t mind. We piled onto the coach and arrived at Drury lane and I purchased the obligatory maltesers and a drink to keep me refreshed, while Martine McCutcheon aka Tiffany Mitchell bumbled across the stage warbling to ‘The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plane.’

Earlier that day the Queen Mother had  passed away and so naturally a two minute silence was called before the show began.  As the announcer spoke fondly of the late monarch, someone in the audience shouted out;

“Fucking old c**t , I bet she didn’t have to pay for her hip replacement!”

I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself…it’s not that I have no respect, it was the pure comic timing of this oik that set me off. I laughed so hard that I managed to spray my diet coke over about 3 rows of people…direct from my mouth, mixed with sizeable chunks of malteser.  I don’t think Dame Martine was very impressed! #awks

 

The Fire Alarm incident

Another promotion, and I was now a Senior Manager, posted to Sunbury upon Thames. I had been in the store less than 2 weeks, and it was my go at being Duty Manager on Sunday.  All was going well, until  in the peak of lunchtime, the Fire Alarm went off. It was then that I realised I didn’t know where the fire alarm panel was to locate the source of the alarm. In a panic, I ran through the customer cafe, to check if the Fire had started in the kitchen. As I ran in between tables, some lovely lady decided to push her chair back. Needless to say I somersaulted over ‘said’ chair and face-planted into another disabled lady’s lap. You could hear a pin-drop and then a rupture of applause from the diners in the cafe as well as the entire line of cashiers on the checkouts, as I picked myself up. I was mortified…but I think the disabled lady quite enjoyed it! #awks

 

The chauffeuring incident.

I accompanied my boss to 2 day meeting with an overnight stay in Manchester,  I did the driving and he fell asleep for the entire trip up the M6. A portly man, with a penchant for buffet, he made haste to the front of the queue on arrival, and made 3 or four trips to refill his plate, before we sat down for the afternoon briefing. Having my boss with me, I was on my best behaviour for the whole two days, being careful not to consume too much alcohol that evening so that I didn’t make a tit of myself …or say something I would later regret. At the end of the conference, I took to the road, me driving again. This time my boss didn’t fall asleep, instead he started going green at the gills. I was commanded to stop at every service station on the way home so the journey became quite lengthy.  Karma had caught up with the fat bastard in the guise of a prawn sandwich, and the greedy git (it’s not him its his glands), had 12 too many of them resulting in food poisoning. However the the distance between Watford Gap  and Northampton services was a longer journey than he anticipated. All of a sudden I heard this loud rumbling noise as he farted. If you think it was bad enough that I had to ignore this and carry in driving, the smell lingered for an unusually long time. When we stopped at Northampton services, he leapt from the car and returned wearing a new pair of trousers.

Yes- my boss had proper shit himself! #awks

 

What are your ‘hashtag awks’ moments? Let me know and I will feature them in Part 2.

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The Devil wears….leggings

I don’t, nor have ever proclaimed to be a style advisor to women or ‘queer eye for the straight guy’ but I have got to get one thing really clear so that we can spread the word and eliminate a large amount of humiliation and low self esteem in the world..

‘Leggings are not clothes!’

There you have it ladies. When you don a pair of leggings, essentially you are leaving the house with your knickers on (only they are knickers that happen to have 2 legs attached).

If you are going to wear these awful lycra- based ‘skin huggers’ because they are ‘so comfortable’ , then please spare us the accompanying mid-drift top and wear something loose that reaches your knees. (Especially if you have the physique of a fruit machine and the arse the size of Belgium).

I wonder whether you ever notice that at the top of your legs there is a part of your anatomy that is not conducive with skin-tight fabric , with it’s many folds and flaps, leggings make it look like you are smuggling oreos. Equally the stretched thread-bare fabric ‘covering’ your posterior points out every dimple and imperfection, often making it look like a scene from Buzz Aldrin’s cine camera of the Moon landings.

‘But they are so cheap’ , I hear you say.  Well yes they are, thats because they are shit, you wouldn’t see me walking up the shops in my thermal long -johns- I’d probably be arrested.

Nobody wants to see your clam when they are fetching the daily newspaper, no matter how agile and inviting it may be, so please stop this appalling practice now. Throw the leggings away and buy some clothes.

Spread the word…..