I know! I know! I am a little too old to be using the aforementioned asseveration; what happened to me the other day, totally qualifies under that genre of “bloopers and blunders”. Every time I think about it, weirdly enough, I feel an involuntary smile spread across my face, but when the faux pas happened, I wished either Superman would whisk me away to his “never-need-to-come-back-from -Kryptonite world,” or a magic wand would make me evanesce from that moment of awkwardness. Oy! If only! Now I know what Kangana Renaut feels like – all the time.
So here is what happened ---- fervently, I ordered lunch from my absolute desired Indian Chinese restaurant close to work. I have to tell you, their food is delectable. I would like to think that I am amongst one of their first few customers. Sometimes I fantasize about my last wish being granted by God/devil and my response would be “Chilli Chicken from IndoMunch”. I know it’s appalling but hey, don’t be so quick to judge—we all have our “fantasies”!:-)
I digress, but now am back on the story-track. So, when I called to order my lunch, to my surprise, I didn’t recognize the person’s voice at the other end. I remember thinking to myself, “looks like they have hired someone new. Good for them their business is doing so well.” In my polite yet got-to-know-now-desi- way, I asked the person, who picked up the phones, if she was a new hire. Well, she responded semi-acrimoniously that in fact, she had been there for a while. I was convinced that she must be working the evening shift generally as I eat lunch way too often there to not recognize the staff and vice-versa.. God, I am on a confession-roll!
On one hand, I was going to eat “chilli chicken” which translates to deep fried protein laden with starch; on the other, I decided to get in my share of exercise before gormandizing. Now when I think of my decision, I am befuddled myself. Anyway, I peregrinated to the restaurant, to pick up my lunch only to be greeted by three simpering gentleman at the counter - - all familiar faces (my umpteenth visit had guaranteed that). My eyes spasmodically searched for the ‘desi aunty’ and charily judged the men’s solecism. After all, it was incumbent upon me to pay homage to the new hire.
Anyway, I am abashed to write what happened next – one of the guys behind the counter called out my name and told me what the total bill was. That’s when the “feeling of uh-oh” started flowing through my body. I felt so discombobulate—worse than a deer caught in the headlights. This ‘desi aunty’ was actually a guy with a rather feeble voice. He had either been too polite to correct me over the phone or just apathetic. Uh-oh again! How I wish sometimes the desi in me would take a chill pill and accept that meeting and greeting every Indian aunty, with a heavy accent, in NYC, is not part of my job description.
With a confused, embarrassed, facetious look, I apologized and while I was doing that, he and his other two friends joined my laughter club. Between “I am sorry” and “no problem, it’s okay,” we all cachinnated like there was no tomorrow.
Just thought I would share this story with you all. Do you have any “uh-oh” moments to share?
Copyright © 07.19.2007
"Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes" -- Oscar Wilde
Thursday, July 19, 2007
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4 comments:
That is funny! my uh-oh moment = skirt in the pantyhose.
gave a woman my seat thinkign she was pregnant to only find out she was fat.
my fly was open. i won't say when. beat that
U know this is by far your best (though even here I didn't understand half the words!) - but the build-up is really good - I was guessing what must have happened and wanted to read on just to find out :-))
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