Embarrasing Moments

The great thing about getting old is that eventually you start to not give-a-damn about a lot of things you use to fret over.…like your looks or how you appear to others.  When you realize that the beauty you had is fading or worse yet when you realize the beauty you ‘thought’ you had is fading you begin to panic.

I remember the day that I realized that this thing was not going to get better. This person looking back at me in the mirror was slowly getting less and less attractive and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I thought that maybe I could get by. I figured that I’d work on my personality.  Maybe with a great personality people won’t notice so much.  But the truth of the matter is that by this time, if you don’t have one, chances are you can’t get one.  So, I decided to settle for a more comfortable version of me and people could like it or lump it.  What choice did I have anyway.

The positive side of this is that you don’t have to worry about impressing anyone anymore with your looks. That can be pretty liberating especially when I think back at the times that I went overboard to try to impress someone only to come out tortured with memories like this one:

I was in my late twenties. I was working for myself.  I had started my own business, Speciality Design.  I was creating marketing campaigns for major companies and local industries.  One of my potential new accounts happened to be Minden Bank.  They had a new Vice President of Marketing. He was a really good looking man. Very polished. Very distinguished.  I wanted to impress him more than I can tell you.  He called me to set up a meeting so we could discuss the possibility of working on a major campaign for the bank. I was so excited.  I made sure that the outfit I picked that morning was just perfect. My make up was perfect. My hair was perfect. I put on lipstick which I rarely do. I was ready to impress this good looking man. I knew I needed to look and act professional. This was going to be a big account for me.

I walked into his big impressive office. He was sitting behind this big elaborate fine, polished walnut desk with a shine on it that picked up his reflection....a good looking reflection, I might add.  We shook hands and went through the formalities of introducing ourselves.  I sat down across from him and let him dominate the conversation as it should have been.  I politely interjected when asked to respond. I was so intimated and I was nervous as a cat. I’m sure he picked up on that. I tried to hide it with my politeness but it was still pretty awkward.

At one point in our conversation I began to get really nervous and when I get really nervous I begin to laugh at things.  Things that are apparently not funny. It’s kind of retarded actually and people probably think that when they hear me. 

I guess I didn’t know how to close the deal or something. I think he was waiting on me to react in some manner and I wasn’t getting the message.  I began nervously telling him how much I appreciated this opportunity and that I was looking forward to working with him. Yadda, yadda, yadda.  And in between all of this crap, I began to laugh for no reason.  It was quite insane.   I realized I needed to get a grip. I stood up over his desk extended my hand out to shake his so that I could finally put an end to this miserable moment.  While I was shaking his hand, I started to send out another one of those nervous laughs.  But I exhaled really big this time before throwing out my obnoxious laugh.   I exhaled at the same time that I threw out my first “Ha” when a piece of something moved up my throat out my mouth and landed on the desk. I could feel it pass over my teeth and across my lips.  My brain was saying ‘what the hell is this?’ 

It was a little white ball the size of a BB.  Don’t know what it was. Some kind of bread ball? Hell, I don't know and didn't want to know. But as it shot out of my mouth, both of our eyes caught it as it landed on his bright shiny desk and rolled slowly from one end to the other and then on to the floor. Our eyes followed the little white bread ball like it was some kind of sideshow until it landed in the carpet and then out of sight.  I wanted to dig a hole and crawl in it. I looked up at him. I couldn’t speak. I was in shock and I didn’t know what I was going to do. Do we talk about  it?  Do we both look at it closer and inspect it and see what the hell this alien thing was?  Or do we ignore it and forget it never happened.  We chose the latter.

I told him it was time to go. I thanked him for his time and walked out.  I was sure that he was never going to call on me again. And that was okay because I was so mortified.  I had hoped to never see him again. He called me the next week. We began to work on his campaign which turned out to be one of my most successful endeavors. We were both happy and the tiny bread ball was never openly discussed by either one of us. 

But I have shared this story with close friends and we laugh while I place my hand over my mouth.