So, yesterday I woke up with a splitting headache and a really sore neck, so I decided to take the day off work (which as you know is never really a day off work with deadline submissions etc, but still at least working from home). Around midday I decide that I need to get some treatment on my neck so I go down to the massage shop in the arcade and they give me a neck, shoulders treatment.
As you have to lie on your stomach you have to stick your head in a hole in the table - you probably know the drill. Anyway, they'd given my shoulders and neck such a work-over that I knew I'd have a big red ring around my face from the pressure from the table hole. And because it's dark in the rooms you can't even look in a mirror (even if there was one) to see how bad the "ring" looks.
I head out into the mall, feeling sure people will see the ring and being a bit self-conscious about that. Sure even it's pretty clear there much be a ring because people's gazes do seem to linger. Now, I can't get away quickly because I also have to get an e-tag thing sorted at the RTA. So, off I walk down the entire length of the mall, suffering people's glances and then proceed to sit around the RTA for at least 20 minutes people coming and going all around me. Finally I get served and as I'm standing at the counter my hand touches my collar - and it's weird - my button is missing.
No hang on - it's still there, but on the inside. Realisation dawns. In the dark of the massage shop I've put my shirt on inside out!!! And, it's the kind of shirt that is clearly on inside out. Then just to tell the world about it I've walked the length of a busy mall during school holidays and hung around the RTA for ages. No wonder people were staring. Now, if I'd been young enough I could have got away with it being some sort of cool statement, but at my age is just smacked of early onset dementia. I might as well have worn my undies on the outside.
Nor could I do anything about it then and there so I had to do the walk of shame again along the length of the mall before I could get to the toilets and turn it inside out.
The final stinger - as I was doing this walk of shame a young woman I walked passed looked straight at my face and then turned to her friend and said "Is my face red?" Yep, it turns out I was right all along - my face was bright red as well. My cunning plan to distract the world from this by wearing my shirt inside out had failed. In the end I was just a red-faced, can't-dress-myself old f@rt.
As you have to lie on your stomach you have to stick your head in a hole in the table - you probably know the drill. Anyway, they'd given my shoulders and neck such a work-over that I knew I'd have a big red ring around my face from the pressure from the table hole. And because it's dark in the rooms you can't even look in a mirror (even if there was one) to see how bad the "ring" looks.
I head out into the mall, feeling sure people will see the ring and being a bit self-conscious about that. Sure even it's pretty clear there much be a ring because people's gazes do seem to linger. Now, I can't get away quickly because I also have to get an e-tag thing sorted at the RTA. So, off I walk down the entire length of the mall, suffering people's glances and then proceed to sit around the RTA for at least 20 minutes people coming and going all around me. Finally I get served and as I'm standing at the counter my hand touches my collar - and it's weird - my button is missing.
No hang on - it's still there, but on the inside. Realisation dawns. In the dark of the massage shop I've put my shirt on inside out!!! And, it's the kind of shirt that is clearly on inside out. Then just to tell the world about it I've walked the length of a busy mall during school holidays and hung around the RTA for ages. No wonder people were staring. Now, if I'd been young enough I could have got away with it being some sort of cool statement, but at my age is just smacked of early onset dementia. I might as well have worn my undies on the outside.
Nor could I do anything about it then and there so I had to do the walk of shame again along the length of the mall before I could get to the toilets and turn it inside out.
The final stinger - as I was doing this walk of shame a young woman I walked passed looked straight at my face and then turned to her friend and said "Is my face red?" Yep, it turns out I was right all along - my face was bright red as well. My cunning plan to distract the world from this by wearing my shirt inside out had failed. In the end I was just a red-faced, can't-dress-myself old f@rt.
RSS Feed
