I am often asked do I ever get embarrassed. Not often, because I do about a 150 million embarrassing things a day. There were a couple of days last year when I out did myself, and even I was embarrassed.
One morning I was preparing for a session, talking to my friend on the phone, writing two emails to two different people at the same time- one to a staff specialist and one to a close friend.
I was telling my friend about my bad day, the day before. I look down at my watch and see I was going to be late. I say goodbye to her, while signing off both emails. One with my very professional Kind regards Cassie, and the other with Much love Cass xoxo.
I finish with class by 11am, and head back to the office. I check my emails and no response from my friend. Odd he usually responds immediately. I had a sudden feeling of dread sweep over me. What if I had sent both to the doctor...
I open the sent folder I had sent only one to the staff specialist. The other too? Who did I send it to, "Shit!" I had sent it to the wrong friend, I tried to retrieve it, but I couldn't. "FUCK!!!"
I quickly send another email, asking the wrong friend to disregard previous email, re- sending the email to the right friend. Making a mental note to myself to check the persons entire name before -sending an email- not to just to click the first initial and hope for the best.
I was meeting my good friend for lunch; we were going to a nearby shopping centre to get sushi. On the drive over, I tell the hot guy who works in the cardiology department who is soooo pretty, he could be a Calvin Cline model, I mean seriously! He’s about 6’2, tanned, muscular, tanned, when he walks by, he just makes your day better and you can’t help but giggle like a giddy schoolgirl. But he doesn’t smile that much “But when you’re that pretty you don’t have to smile.”
I also told her all about my morning antics- she did what any good friend would do, pissed herself laughing. I find a spot close to the front door, Tash follows as I walk to the entry door. Trusting that I knew where I was going.
I walk up to the closest automatic doors. I go to walk through- they don't open. I step back, then forward trying to trigger the mechanism for them to open. Still they didn't open. I notice a JB HiFi storeman assisting a customer near the door, they stop what they are doing and watch as I try to open the door again walking back then forward, still nothing, I start waving my arms at the sensors at the same time- nothing.
My friend stands off to the side watching as I walk up to the door and back, waving my arms above my head as I approach the senses. Finally, after a couple of minutes of trying and failing to the doors the JB store man says, "You know that's an exit only love."
"Sure, that's why I have just spent the last few minutes trying to go through it". I think to myself. Instead I say nothing just smile and walk up the path to the other door.
"Thanks Cass. You bought me down with you on that one." Tash says laughing as we walk to the other door.
I have never been happier for a day to end. I collected my things and race through the hospital, going down the back stairs, through corridor past the staff cafeteria, to the back door. I could hear footsteps behind me, not turning back I proceeded down the corridor.
I reach the door putting both hands on the door pushing it open. It didn't budge. Instead my face collides with hard wood of the door making an “Oof” sound with the impact. Causing the person behind me run into the back of me.
I had forgotten to use the handle. My cheek stings from the impact, I slowly look over my shoulder behind me to see who had run into me. It was the super-hot guy from cardiology. Yeah I was wrong he does smile/laugh when he was running up the back of me when I had face planned the door.
I make this weird super high-pitched giggle which sounded like a cross between a Hyena and Donkey that had sucked on too helium. I could feel my face heat. He’s polite enough to stop himself from laughing in my face. Mortified, I put my head down, turn the handle pushing the door open and raced to where my car was parked.
I tell Kristal about my embarrassing day she says "To post the events of my day on Facebook. Why not own it, because it couldn't get any worse right?"
The next day, I wake up refreshed and confident that it was going to be a better day. I wear my new favourite grey knit, turtleneck dress, which always makes me feel good. I get to work early and decide to visit several wards before heading to the office.
When I get to the office, two colleagues tell me how much they had enjoyed my Facebook post from the night before, and they had shared it with their families.
"Always happy to entertain." I say laughing and picking up my laptop bag, "But I have to go, very important meeting." Tash and I had a meeting at clinical governance. Tash arrived when I was retelling the events of the day before.
Tash collects her things as I walk towards the door. Linda calls out, to me as I reach the door "Cass wait." I stop and look at her, "Come here." She says waving me back to her.
I walk back to her desk, "Whats that?" She asks horrified pointing to the back of my dress.
I twist the back of my dress around to the front. I look down and see a large light brown stain, going from my backside all the way down before stopping at the backs of my knees. "Oh no!" I say, "It's foundation."
"How did you get foundation there?" Linda asks shocked.
"I don't know." I put my things down and run to the bathroom.
Because it was a turtleneck, I was able to spin my dress around, so the back was now the front and vice versa. I run some water onto the paper towel, dabbing it onto the front of my dress. Great! Now I had a large wet patch on the front of my dress in a very suspicious area.
I walk back into the office, Tash and Linda look at me, "It doesn't look that bad." Tash says trying to stifle a laugh while trying to reassure me. “Besides half the hospital have already seen that you have seen that you shit your pants this morning, so looking like you have wet your pants really isn’t that bad is it?”
"I don't really have another option. It either looks like I shit my pants, or it looks like I wet me pants. I don't know what it worse."
They both start roaring with laughter, "Definitely the shit stain is worse. At least this will dry." Linda says.
She had a point.