As it is now 16 years in the past, I feel I can now recount an experience inflicted upon me. At the time the humiliation was fairly intense but perhaps it was one of those things that breeds some character in a chap. Anyway, if I was to get diagnosed with some sort of mental disorder then perhaps this can be used as one of the pieces of the puzzle.
As a 19 year old weedy sporn, I found myself in my first full time job. If the requirements were to be scared of everything then it was clear I was highly qualified. One day while busying myself with activities that gave the impression that I had some idea what I was doing I was summoned to my bosses office. He was a peculiar fellow, wise of the world and approachable with a peculiar sense of humour:
"Take this", he commanded waving a sealed envelope in the air, "to the office of Mrs. G, ensure she reads the letter inside and bring it back. DO NOT read the letter as it is confidential!".
"Yes Sir", I stammered with fragile confidence.
The office of Mrs G, which was located across town, was a legend of my workplace. I had been warned to brace myself for my first visit. I drove carefully but quickly that day, as if I was carrying precious cargo.
Upon arriving at the office of Mrs. G I was immediately struck with a sight of heaven. In the office working behind desks were at least seven of the most stunningly attractive ladies I had ever seen. My 19 year old brain began activating caveman mode, as 19 year old brains do.
"Hello there", chirped the ugliest of the seven who ofcourse was still stunning, "can I help you?"
"I have an envelope for Mrs G", I said, although with questionable comprehensibility.
"Oh, she's just through that door. Go through".
I wandered through the doorway and met Mrs G, a pleasant middle aged lady who greeted me cheerfully. I handed her the envelope informing that I had instructions to wait and return the contents. She read the letter, looked at me intensely, and beckoned for me to follow as she walked out towards the heavenly seven. She proceeded to show each of them in turn the letter onto which they wrote comments. After each had completed this task, Mrs G wrote a quick comment, sealed the letter in the envelope and handed it back to me to be returned.
Feeling pleased that I had completed the task so efficiently, I rushed it back to my boss. Peculiarly, on my return he seemed rather disinterested, instead calling in my fellow coworkers and then giving me the blunt instruction, "you read it!"
This is what the letter contained in original print when I handed it to Mrs G:
Hello Mrs G, My name is (my name) and I am the new boy working for (my bosses name). I am 19 years old and have very little experience with girls. Can you please give me some advice?
Under this were the comments that Mrs G and her seven coworkers wrote, ranging from very practical advice which has been useful albeit infrequently, to downright disgraceful suggestions that wouldn't be out of place in a Kevin Bloody Wilson tune.
Zooming back to the here and now, I can say that I look back upon experiences like this with a kind of fondness. Although rather painful at the time, it serves as a reminder that taking yourself and life too seriously is a mistake. Sometimes, we all need to feel a little humiliated and have our self esteem roughed up a bit if we are going to be human. We keep getting told to get better and be all you can be, but I wonder if being a little incomplete, a rough edged work in progress is actually a good thing. Perhaps, being a fool every now and again is the smartest thing you can do.
Now if only I can summon the courage to look pretty ladies in the eye.
No comments:
Post a Comment