Photo by Matthew Henry
I’ve always been an awkward and clumsy gal. Whilst I have a variety of different abilities, functioning like a normal human being is just not one of them. I have somewhat given up on trying to act like a reasonable person in situations, and instead, decided to sacrifice myself for the meme. Below I have collated a few of my top most embarrassing situations for you to peruse at your leisure, for whenever you feel inadequate as a human, you can make yourself feel better. How selfless of me.
1. The time I simultaneously set off the fire alarm and got trapped in the toilet.
This story is a hoot and a half. So I was visiting a brand new gym to test out the waters. Visiting any gym anytime is daunting, let alone for the first time ever .You’re wanting to make a good impression on those body builders and damn fitspo people around you. However, because I have the bladder of an old, senile woman, I really needed to pee. After coming out the cubicle, to my shock horror, I seemed to have forgotten how I got into the bathroom in the first place. In my defence, the bathroom entrance/exit was structured very strangely, as there was a labyrinth-type maze that I needed to go through in order to get out.
Thus, what ensued was me running up and down small bathroom frantically finding the door. Where I thought the door was, was only a large mirror which reflected my stressed face featuring confused eyebrows. The other end of the bathroom featured a door, only it was to the ‘relaxation room’ and boy did I feel anything but relaxed in that moment. After about 5 sprints up and down the bathroom, I decided to try the fire door because maybe, maybe I came through the door? I pushed it open, ignoring all signs saying ‘This is a fire door. Do not obstruct.’ Upon peeking through, I saw the fire escape steps which was definitely not the exit to the bathroom. What also happened to my sheer delight was that the piercing fire alarm went off at the same time.
The adrenaline really kicked in at this stage. I felt like I was in one of those horror asylum houses where everything goes wrong at once (in hindsight, the episode was more likely to appear on funniest home videos than anything). I did a couple more manic laps of the bathroom before the flight part of fight or flight syndrome kicked in and I managed to navigate myself out of the maze unscathed. However, the alarm transcended out to the entire gym. The whole of the gym could hear this shrill piercing. What idiot had set it off???
As I sheepishly made my way back to the gym instructor, he was asking his colleagues why the fire alarm was going off. It’s safe to say the heat is really on for me to train well at this gym.
2. The time I flashed everyone on the dance floor.
Pretty self-explanatory. I was slightly intoxicated off a delightful combination of cheap red wine, white wine and champas. An absolute banga of a song came on. It was probably Ignition or Timber because those songs really turn me into a loose cannon. I was halfway through my flawless rendition of Beyonce until my legs and feet gave way entirely and next thing I knew – I was bum down, legs AND dress up in the middle of the dfloor. Hello world, this is me and my underwear. It was a sight to behold.
3. The time I managed to mess up a 3 ingredient dish.
For anyone that knows me, you know my parents are pretty damn good cooks. My Asian mother thinks she’s actually an Italian nonna because she makes pizza/pasta/bread more than she cooks rice, and my dad takes pride in achieving the perfect wobble in his mango panna cotta. Hence, it is just utterly disappointing to them that I am a hazard if I go anywhere near a kitchen. Last year, I only just managed the art of poaching an egg.
So, it was already quite adventurous of me in the first place to even attempt to make banana pancakes. But, the recipe only called for 3 ingredients, so how hard could it be??? I was so ready for the perfectly poised and aesthetically pleasing snapchat captioned #masterchef.
I was wrong. The first pancake was disastrously undercooked. It was so raw to the point that when I tried to flip it, it just disintegrated into a hot mess (literally). So obviously, being the impatient idiot I am, decided to crank the heat up on the next one. Wrong. Again. Pancake 2 was so burnt to the extent where it no longer resembled a pancake, but looked more like a mound of dirt you’d find after a bushfire. So the next pancake I thought to lower the heat. Again, this one was a floppy, useless mush because I flipped it too early and it was undercooked. On the last pancake, you’d think I’d at least have gotten it via trial and error. But guess what?? WRONG. Cranked the heat up and this one was chargrilled to absolute cinders. I couldn’t even eat it because it was so burnt that I zinged my tongue.
And, to put the
maple syrup on the pancake icing on the cake,the pan was so absolutely burnt from my cooking escapades that it had to be binned. It was blackened beyond repair. It was a devastating time for everyone.
4. The time I munted at uni.
This is a very, very grim time. I’d decided it was a good idea to go out in my final week of uni, on a Wednesday night, full well knowing I had a 9am lecture the next morning. Come 9am Thursday, and I am regretting every single decision. The night before was nothing but a vodka fuelled rager, and in the morning my law lecturer was talking about case involving a beer company. Holy moly wowza weeza please be talking about anything else other than alcohol. I was sitting in that lecture, 100% still drunk and being able to smell the vodka on my breath. It took every cell in me to focus on what my lecturer was saying and type the words, and every other body part to fight the urge to vomit right there and then in the middle of the lecture. The only conversation I remember having with my friend that morning was ‘please Stace, you’re gonna have to move otherwise I’m going to munt all over you.’
As I was rushing to the bathroom, the only thing I could think of was how inconvenient it was to munt at uni. Literally all the bush land is in a wide, open space so you couldn’t even do a sneaky, private munt unless you wanted to end up on stalkerspace. How inconsiderate of them!
So after locking myself into a cubicle and throwing up, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. Who am I, what have I become? It really was an all-new low.
5. That time I just didn’t understand Tinder.
So surely you’ve already read about my initial Tinder escapades. Unfortunately, I haven’t had much luck since then. Other than being in a harrowing and hysterical group message and nearly starting an aggressive fight with someone I matched with, I just can’t take Tinder seriously enough. And then this happened:
No Andgus, not smooth enough to work.
The saddest part about this post is that the above 5 events happened within the last 2 months. If I ever make it to 21 it’ll be nothing short of a miracle because it’s highly likely I have died embarrassment before that.