Tuesday, February 13, 2007
For Shame
No new knitting to post about. Instead, I thought I'd share an embarrassing story, because 1) my knitting, it moves slowly, and 2) I take a perverse pleasure in humiliating myself publicly.
One evening when Rick and I still lived in Idaho, we received a phone call. Rick was using the bathroom at the time (sorry, Rick, the secret's out--now the world knows you're the same as the rest of us :) ), so I answered the phone.
"Hi, there." A very drawling, Southern, female voice said. "Is Rick home?"
I did not know anyone who sounded like this. And the voice sounded like it might be my sister-in-law, if for some reason she had decided to acquire a thick Southern accent. For some reason, in the split second that I thought about it, this made sense to me. This was my sister-in-law! I decided to play along with the Southrun drawl.
"Yes'm, he sho is, but he's takin' a big ol' shit right now."
Oh yes. I did. And was greeted by silence. Fear crept up on me right as the female voice recovered and politely said, "Well, this is his old friend from college. Could you tell him that I called?"
OMG. Surprised that I didn't die from shame right on the spot, I managed to find a piece of paper and jot down her name and phone number. I let Rick know about the whole humiliating affair, and I believe he apologized about my behavior for me when he called her back, but he still laughs about it to this day. I still turn beet red thinking about it. Didn't my momma raise me better?
I finally met Rick's old friend in person last Friday night, and she is friendly, funny, and kind. We didn't mention our first encounter years ago, probably because her momma raised her better, too. I can only hope that her first impression of me will wear off eventually, and someday she will not feel sorry for the match that her poor friend Rick made. :)
One evening when Rick and I still lived in Idaho, we received a phone call. Rick was using the bathroom at the time (sorry, Rick, the secret's out--now the world knows you're the same as the rest of us :) ), so I answered the phone.
"Hi, there." A very drawling, Southern, female voice said. "Is Rick home?"
I did not know anyone who sounded like this. And the voice sounded like it might be my sister-in-law, if for some reason she had decided to acquire a thick Southern accent. For some reason, in the split second that I thought about it, this made sense to me. This was my sister-in-law! I decided to play along with the Southrun drawl.
"Yes'm, he sho is, but he's takin' a big ol' shit right now."
Oh yes. I did. And was greeted by silence. Fear crept up on me right as the female voice recovered and politely said, "Well, this is his old friend from college. Could you tell him that I called?"
OMG. Surprised that I didn't die from shame right on the spot, I managed to find a piece of paper and jot down her name and phone number. I let Rick know about the whole humiliating affair, and I believe he apologized about my behavior for me when he called her back, but he still laughs about it to this day. I still turn beet red thinking about it. Didn't my momma raise me better?
I finally met Rick's old friend in person last Friday night, and she is friendly, funny, and kind. We didn't mention our first encounter years ago, probably because her momma raised her better, too. I can only hope that her first impression of me will wear off eventually, and someday she will not feel sorry for the match that her poor friend Rick made. :)
# posted by katie @ 11:53 AM 
Comments:
<< Home
What a funny story!! You and my now 21 yr old niece have something in common. When she was 3 or 4 she was at home with her dad. (She was the only child at that point.) The phone rings. Her dad was "indisposed" so she answered it. The caller asked for my BIL. Caile told him what he was doing. The man asked her again not quite understanding her. My BIL hears his darling 3-4 yr old daughter say: I SAID HE'S POOPING!!!! Turns out it was his boss. :-)
# posted by 
: 2:38 PM
: 2:38 PM
Ha! At least she had the excuse of being THREE YEARS OLD for her occurance. I believe I was twenty-three for mine. :(
Post a Comment
<< Home
