Are you ready to get your awkward on? Our writers did in spades this week.
Erin: Fashionably Uncouth
My boss has been trying to expose me to different aspects of our company, which last week resulted in me going to part of a conference that was extremely high-level. The other attendees were mostly from state departments and here I was, a lowly extern. Unfortunately, at midnight before the conference I realized I hadn’t done laundry and my options were rather limited. I had the choice between a sweater dress with tights or my interviewing suit, and I decided on the dress because I didn’t want to go TOO formal. Wrong choice! When I showed up, I was decidedly the least-appropriately dressed one there, and I got some disapproving looks from the superiors.
Speaking of terrible fashion choices, I have now, for the second time, showed up to an important external meeting in something that had a hole in it (I hadn’t worn it in a while and had forgotten why). At least this time the hole was on my elbow instead of on my butt (like last time). I swear I am not a vagrant and have actual nice clothes.
Amy: Bring in the Dancing Lobsters
Like a good barista, I have learnt how to make conversation with customers while making their coffee. Whilst setting about a simple latte for one lady, I exclaimed “I’m so jealous of you, you’ve obviously been on holiday recently! Look at your sunburn though, ouch!” …Well, the lady in question had not been on holiday recently and just happened to naturally be the colour of a baby lobster. It took me the best part of that afternoon to extract my foot from my mouth.
Katie: Chocolate Jugs
Admittedly, I talk about my boobs a lot…and that’s not about to change. Last night after trying a bite of a disgusting orangey-chocolatey-thing, I made a face, threw it away, and thought that was the end of it. Out of sight, out of mind, right? So two hours later when I glance down and see a big dark brown smear across my chest, chocolate was not the first thing that came to mind. To be honest, all I really saw was brown where there should just be almost-a-ghost-pale skin. So without applying any form of logic, I just scream loudly, in a room with my parents mind you, “THERE IS SHIT ON MY TITS!” Of course this garners attention, and I don’t clarify it with “shit as in stuff;” no, I’m just screaming, “Look at the shit?! There is shit on my tits!” Again I repeat, I screamed this in a room with my parents. Fortunately they’re aware I completely lack all filters.[divider] [/divider]
How awkward was your week? Tweet us @litdarling.
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