Bitch on the Blog

March 21, 2017

Why, oh why, oh why

As I currently appear to be in questioning (if not questionable) mode here is another one to make you, my dear Readers, blush:

What do you remember as one of the more embarrassing moments of your life? Obviously, all of us are spoiled for choice, and some episodes best taken to the grave, never to see the light of day. Others? Other embarrassments may make (some time in a far away future) a passable anecdote.

And yes, before you scroll back, I DID say that ALL of us (no use denying it) are spoiled for choice – and I say this as someone who is NOT easily embarrassed. As they say “Shit happens”, so, and being conceited as I am, I am reconciled to the human condition. However, when I do embarrass myself, boy oh boy, no half measures taken, no hole to swallow me in the near vicinity, I do wonder why this mortal coil of a life is peppered with snares to get trapped in.

It also makes for a rather interesting exercise in time travel, not least when you learn that some people were elephants in a previous life; they never forget, and have amazing ability to cut you down shorter than to size by casually mentioning something that happened ages ago.

In the short space it took me to type the above, my life of embarrassing episodes has flashed past me and I feel a little hot under the collar. It’s why the prospect of someone writing your biography once you are dead and therefore unable to put the record straight is pretty daunting. OH MY GOD. Actually tempts me, rarely – but it does, to put it all down on paper myself. Except, of course, who wants to relive that which is best forgotten?

Please don’t be shy. As so often, I will reveal myself in reply to you. If that sounds like a trade off – it isn’t. It’s my ingenious way of hiding my tree among bushes, in the hope no one notices.





    Comment by rummuser — March 21, 2017 @ 15:28 | Reply

    • Yes, Ramana, I remember your story, not least that lovely picture of a mouse (and calling you “harsh” at the time). Thing is that, in my opinion, he not only misread you (probably just trying to be friendly) but embarrassed himself, not you. No wonder he didn’t continue contact.

      Despite having been at the receiving end of some astonishing thoughtlessness, I don’t hold it against others when they embarrass themselves. It’s nothing to me. To spare them blushes I’ll tell them “it’s ok”. Doesn’t matter. Who cares? We all makes asses of ourselves at times. Etc etc etc. It’s all in the fall and rise of life. Having said that … I so so wish I hadn’t dropped some clangers myself. Still, as I keep saying, not everyone is an elephant, my big hope being that people forget. And they will – not least once they have died.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 22, 2017 @ 13:04 | Reply

  2. Easy. 6 years ago I was performing at a theatrical event reading from one of my own short stories when I had this eerie sensation on my bum. Like feathers. I ignored it.

    A few minutes later, the sensation had travelled to my ankles.

    To my utter horror, it was my light floaty skirt puddling daintily.around them.

    Of course the place was packed. Of course I was being filmed. I redden every time I think of it.


    Comment by wisewebwoman — March 21, 2017 @ 20:46 | Reply

    • Yes, WWW, thanks for the smile. I do hope your underwear was up to and suitable for public scrutiny.

      Reminds me of that “skirt-tucked-into-your-knickers” walk of shame. No idea what brought it on – no doubt someone telling me it had happened to them. The very idea filled me with such horror that now, on leaving the house, I will automatically swipe my hand down the back of my skirt – just in case, and to make sure. Ridiculous, if mildly amusing.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 22, 2017 @ 13:17 | Reply

  3. i guess this was worse than embarrassment but it’s the time i wished the earth would swallow me: A colleague’s wife was pregnant and some weeks or months after the happy announcement I commented on how the baby was getting closer. I didn’t know but the baby had been terminated incompatible with life just a week previously.

    Comment by Kylie — March 21, 2017 @ 21:23 | Reply

    • Odd you should say that, Kylie. Something very similar happened to me a few months ago. New neighbours, lovely young couple; our landlord told me she was expecting. Didn’t see much of them; kept themselves to themselves. Then, one day, dear dog in heaven, I needed some help from him with something – so we talked and I said: “Baby must be due any time now” Holy shit, Kylie. More than half way through the pregnancy a scan had revealed some major problem meaning the child wouldn’t survive beyond birth. At first I assumed she’d miscarried but now believe, I didn’t ask, that labour was induced prematurely. Apparently she went into meltdown. And I mean meltdown. To make it worse – though he was very good about it – in my shock I stammered such utter rubbish by way of trying to comfort him I basically died once we had parted ways. Just shows you: None of us beyond …


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 22, 2017 @ 13:13 | Reply

  4. A young lady that works where I do had a baby in the spring last year. This year, as we were walking towards each other in the hall, I commented something on the order of it being soon after the last child to be expecting already. Her response, “I’m not.”

    To understand how incredibly embarrassing that was for me, you have to understand that I don’t make remarks like that — ever. I don’t make any sort of comments that could be embarrassing for a woman or potentially considered harassing. I’m the guy that woman friends could talk to if they were being sexually harassed at work, not that I have had many women friends at work in that situation. But it has happened a couple of times over the years — and I’ve listened, no matter how uncomfortable, and I’ve given advice, where appropriate, including that they should take it to the proper people in management. For guys, on the other hand, I have no problem with making embarrassing remarks — under the right circumstances and the comments have to be with someone where there is mutual respect. Then, it is banter between friends.

    Comment by Mike — March 22, 2017 @ 06:35 | Reply

    • Yes, Mike, and a bit like indicated in my reply to Kylie:

      Any comment on pregnancy best avoided. It can so back fire. One of my blush inducing encounters when, many years ago (long before the Angel’s arrival), I entered into a manic work contract. Crazy hours. So, despite loving doing my own housework whatever that may entail, I had to hire a cleaning lady. The one I chose made no secret that she thought me totally over the top – dashing out of the house in my rather snazzy skirt suits; in fact, one might say she despised me. Her disdain was definitely a classy case of inverted snobbery. Still, she was good and I paid her way over the going rate. She was also very private, no casual chattering with her. One day she introduced her mother, asked whether it was ok if she shared the work load with her mum. Sure, no probs. A few weeks later she handed in her notice. I was gobsmacked. Asked what was wrong, would she like a payrise … “No”, she said”, “thanks all the same. I am eight months pregnant”. Oh, Mike. There I am, another woman and I didn’t spot another woman being PREGNANT? That I did NOT say “I always thought you of big build” is a miracle. Though it probably was written all over my face.

      Anyway, after that she merrily reproduced – spawning one baby after another. I know this because I’d occasionally bump into her on the High Street. In my defense, she always looked the same body shape – whether pregnant or not. So, to be on the safe side, I never said another word. Last time I saw her, about fifteen years ago, and congratulated her on yet another arrival in the pushchair she proudly told me: “That’s my first grandchild”.

      It’s a mine/mind field out there.

      Good to know, and I am not surprised, that you have work colleagues confiding in you, Mike. It’s how it should be. And whilst the subject matter maybe of a sensitive nature, I wouldn’t call it “embarrassing”. “Awkward” – yes. But dare I say it, that’s no different if the boss were a woman. Some things, so very private, difficult to communicate.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 22, 2017 @ 13:39 | Reply

  5. Most everyday blunders don’t embarrass me in the slightest. I just shrug my shoulders, accept that these things happen, and carry on. I think my most embarrassing experiences are probably sexual ones, but I won’t go into detail and I doubt if you would want me to. Suffice it to say they’re now in the long distant past so don’t cause me any sleepless nights.

    Comment by nick — March 22, 2017 @ 13:56 | Reply

    • What are “everyday blunders”? For your benefit, I will not believe that you have never embarrassed yourself. When I say “embarrass yourself”, and maybe I didn’t make that clear in my original post, are the moments when – despite yourself – you find yourself crossing your legs, clenching your bottom, and wish it had never happened. But then, and to give you the benefit of the doubt, maybe it has indeed never happened to you. Other than as possible examples, given by you in the second part of your post, which are indeed difficult to both assess (how embarrassing it really was) or indeed comment on.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 22, 2017 @ 18:01 | Reply

  6. By everyday blunders, I mean things like forgetting to do something my boss asked me to do, or forgetting some important message Jenny left me. Yes, embarrassing for a few minutes but hardly qualifying as the most embarrassing moments of my life.

    Comment by nick — March 23, 2017 @ 10:53 | Reply

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