We love nothing more than sharing our awkwardness……and because we throw that word around, we feel it’s crucial for trust-building that we back it up regularly with our own, personal horror stories.
Here we are, yet again. Today we’re talking about…
The Concrete Slip and Slide
It’s every bit as painful and soul destroying as it sounds. I’m a ‘Faller’. It’s a bit like a Baller, but without the money, fame and confidence. We’ve probably all fallen over at some point in our lives, but how many people have to use the phrase “I’m a Faller” to forewarn new friends, colleagues and passersby because it’s just so common for them and people should be prepared? Just me? Cool.
Let’s set the scene a little (because I don’t want to just hit you between the eyes with my unfathomably lame *insert appropriate word/s* ability to balance, walk on flat surfaces and, generally, exist).
Some historical examples include the time I fell over between two male colleagues when out with a company I had just started working for (on the first meeting, no less). There was also the time I fell over at a wedding on a slope of grass, wearing a very bright red dress (just to ensure those stood at the bottom of the hill could see me) and of course, the time I fell over nothing at all on a crowded street, landing very loudly and with the grace of an elephant onto a paper shopping bag (which kindly acted as a kind of fall klaxon to announce the debacle). I then went on to be incredibly British and apologise to those around me, profusely, in case my landing in a painful heap had in any way inconvenienced them.
Little House on the Scottish High Street
Nope, it’s not a reboot, it the scene for this week’s Awkward. It was a beautiful day, we were exploring little quaint antiques centres in a tiny Scottish coastal town – idyllic. We’d purchased a tiny mustard pot and I was admiring it as we walked back to the car. A side note here is that we were on a downhill slope, but I was wearing flat shoes (no alcohol was involved and I wasn’t running – because I don’t).
I proceeded to stumble forward and vividly remember thinking I had styled it out beautifully, for approximately 0.02 seconds. Suddenly the grey asphalt was hurtling towards me face at a horrifying pace. That should have been the end. I should have landed in a tangled heap of limbs as normal, but it was the fall-that-wouldn’t-stop. I slo-mo, ran-fell for about ten feet before I hit the ground. Nope, still not over. Propelled then by the velocity I had picked up with the endless run-falling, I continued now in a kind of dive formation along the concrete.
The fall was so long, I actually had time to think while it was happening. I remember glancing at the little house in my right hand and thinking not only was I about to make a colossal tool of myself, but I had wasted the money as it would surely smash into smithereens.
I fixed my eyes on it as my right arm neared the ground, a silent ‘Nooooooooooooo’ hanging in the air.
But as I finally came to a stop, my knees, elbows and left hand having acted as fleshy brakes, the house, by some miracle, rolled gracefully to the ground from my palm and sat, on the pavement in tact.
Now to put this all into context, as discussed, I fall, a lot, so my husband usually laughs and waits for me to hurriedly and awkwardly (of course) brush myself off and mumble my embarrassment away. However, this fall was so spectacular, he ran to me genuinely thinking I may be in need of proper assistance rather than the usual sarcasm.
People on the other side of the street had stopped in their tracks, cars rubbernecked slowly by. I got up, did the usual pretence of zero pain and basically limp-ran this time, to the car, where it transpired I had cut my hands, knees and ripped my trousers.
BUT let’s focus on the fact that the universe saved the beautiful little house!! It made it and not serves as a constant reminder of the fact I may be a “Faller”, but I can do it whilst protecting antiques. Ok, so it’s a niche skill, but I am taking it.
Please do share your own Awkward moments with us!