Tag Archives: Public Embarassment

What’s in a Name?

At Eleanor’s birthday dinner last night, the whole table got into a naming game of sorts. Eleanor is at the cusp of joining us in the blogosphere and is on the hunt for an appropriate, succinct and definitively charismatic surname that will help title her future blog’s home. Our group of six included myself, my Mother Peggy, Jillian, Tigger, Eleanor’s friend Gwen and of course, the birthday girl herself. Everyone was tossing out their favourite, or most hilarious suggestions. Popular name categories included:

  • Anything British, to reflect her homeland
  • References to her petite stature
  • Places in and around Toronto (Coxwell, anyone?)
  • Various things posted around the Restaurant – not sure if Eleanor “Restrooms” really has the right ring to it!

My personal favourite was Humperdink.

During the name-off, I told my Mother all about Nancy Francis and encouraged her to read. At which point she admitted “I already know about Nancy.” Clearly she has her sources! We then started discussing where the name Nancy had come from (Thank you, Jillian), and Tigger lamented that he would really prefer me to refer to him as Richard Nail a.k.a. Dick Nail. As we were all discussing our names, and what names we’d prefer Peggy decided this would be a great time to share that she had really wanted to name me Myfanawy. Myfanawy. Then they could have called me Miffy for short. What, what, WHAT? Miffy? I don’t think so.

This little nugget of information sent the table into hysterics, especially when we made the discovery that the name (as we were pronouncing it) sounds like someone with a terrible speech impediment is trying to say “My Family” – Muh-fam-wee. Cue belly laughs and streaming tears. Our server and other restaurant clientele weren’t sure what to do with us.

I’ve definitely bemoaned what I construe as the extreme commonality, and therefore lack of originality in my name, but am now extremely grateful that I dodged the Miffy bullet. What other horrors did you have up your sleeve Peggy?

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Filed under Funny Ha-Ha, How Embarrassing

Triple Header

I’m getting too old for this nonsense!  Three nights of heavy drinking and little to no sleep make Nancy a broken girl.  Now, it’s not like anyone was twisting my arm here, and I did have an amazing weekend, but I’m a bit worse for wear on this particularly evil Monday afternoon!

Toronto Pride, Canada Day and a Double-Bachelorette party all landed on this past long weekend, and I took every occasion as a reason to celebrate – hard.  I hit Church Street with my boys (and Eleanor) on both Thursday and Friday night, happily combining our National celebration with supporting my friends into an overwhelming ‘Happy Canada Gay!’  I then peeled myself out of my bed on Saturday morning, having only had a brief visit with my pillow, and headed to Billy Bishop Airport to grab my Porter flight to Montreal.

I landed in Montreal as a shadow of my former self, with a tensor-bandaged ankle (not so graceful exit from a bar on Friday night), deep dark circles under my eyes and a general feeling of nausea that I carried with me to dinner.  Thankfully, I was able to tuck my well deserved hangover into the back of my mind and turn it on for a third straight night of drinking, dancing and general debauchery.  The trip to the male strip joint somewhere around 2am was the perfect end to the party – even though I giggled through the entire experience.

Very Fashion Forward

As I sat on my friend Blondie’s balcony having a nightcap (you know, at around 4am) of Champagne and Elderberry juice, I had to admit I was shocked that I had survived the weekend so unscathed.   Jillian and I ended the weekend with a beautiful afternoon in the Thousand Islands – complete with some misadvenutres on the Francis Family’s new boat!  Now I’m back in Toronto and back in action for the work week, with only a slight limp, an embarrassingly hoarse voice but the glow of knowing I still have it in me to be the life of the party.  At least until about 5am when I turn into a pumpkin.

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Filed under Pictures Tell a Thousand Words, Story Time

Little Miss Chatterbox, at Your Service

I’m a fast talker at the best of time.  I also mumble – which is a terrible combination.  In my defence, I understand myself just fine, why can’t anyone else? Actually, Tigger understands me perfectly, but I think that’s because we’ve developed our own language that relies heavily on body language and facial expression – not so much words.  Needless to say, if I’m nervous or uncomfortable, my rate of speech skyrockets and the sheer amount of content I can cover is dumbfounding. 

 I was at an event the other night and spied a tall, dark and handsome type chatting with a friend of mine, so I slowly sidled up and joined in on the conversation. Problem is, since I thought he was cute, and appeared to be shy, it wasn’t really a conversation anymore as it was me continuously talking at him.  I only allow for a few seconds of silence before barrelling into a new topic, arms flailing while trying to keep up with the appropriate gestures.  Tigger would have been beside himself, as I had to stop about 20 times to catch my breath – an act that he thinks I carry out to emphasize a point, when really I’ve just talked myself breathless.

In a fifteen minute ‘conversation’ I managed to cover the following topics:

  •  My entire Career, including my time spent in India and being trapped in England last year during the Icelandic Volcano episode
  • My complete history with the United Way, with a long segue into my feelings about a particular event
  • My upcoming move, including how much I hate Vertica Resident Services
  • My complete friendship history with the one person we have in common
  • Bank Holidays

Now, I should mention there were two other people in this conversation that both know me, so they were helping to carry forward the discussion topics.  I wasn’t purposely steering the conversation, but I was the largest common denominator and clearly the biggest mouth in the group.

Mr. Handsome did manage to get a few words in, and I definitely confirmed he is either the Strong, silent type or just a wee bit shy.  So pretty much, we’re polar opposites.  I always wonder how that type of person processes someone like me.  Do I appear to be having some sort of seizure? Maybe I come across as incredibly confident and just have a lot to say) unlikely! I probably just appear to be a bit of a spaz and a Chatterbox, guess that’s not so bad.  He actually appeared to be genuinely interested in chatting (er.. listening) but I was preoccupied with filling the airwaves with my baritone chitchat.  

 A similar situation happened last night when I was talking on the phone with Tigger.  While standing outside of a restaurant, an extremely good looking man walked by with quite possibly the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen.  I’m sure I said something along the lines of ‘OMGTHATSTHECUTESTPUPPYIVEEVERSEEN’ and then hung up the phone.  I asked if could say hello to his dog, and then barrelled forward into many statements about the cuteness of this puppy, what I know about the breed, friends that have a similar dog, and finally asking him how he manages to get anywhere with people like me stopping him all the time?   I managed to accidentally answer a call from Korean during this time, and hang up on him as well!

It was only after I’d said goodbye and hustled back into the restaurant that I processed the fact that they very cute Dog Owner was actually being very friendly, and didn’t seem thrown at all by my spazzy approach to him and his pup.  I didn’t even introduce myself or ask his name, but I did get the pups name, age & breed.  Jesus.

Mastiff

You'd hang up on people too if you saw this little Miss!

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Filed under Awk-ward, How Embarrassing, Pictures Tell a Thousand Words

Nancy goes to Shoppers

 I would like to caveat my first foray into blogging with the fact that this particular vignette has already been feature on my dear friend Jillian’s Blog .  I’m stealing it back and republishing it as it is in fact  my story, my embarrassment, and my local Shopper’s Drugmart that were involved.  Plus, its already written and I’m lazy.

The following recounts a rather unfortunate occurrence in my lady business after a recent sojourn in Mexico (and NO, its not what you think).  Forgive the nature of the writing, but this was originally in the context of an email, that I wrote as the blush still ran rampant across my face and neck…

Was totally assuming I picked up something in Mexico until I googled my symptoms this morning – REALLY hoping no one checks the cache on my google for awhile!!!!

Anywho, I was just going to go buy the Canesten stuff, but pretty much everything I read said if it was your first one to go to the Doc. So off I went, and how friggen useless was that visit. She just took my symptoms and agreed with me that I have ‘thrush’ (which Horses get in their feet, by the way – FABULOUS). Didn’t take a look, swab or ANYTHING.

I leave the clinic with a prescription and I drag myself to Shopper’s only to find out that its an over the counter product (WTF? why didn’t she just tell me that?). Things start looking up – there’s a coupon!! $3 off! AND it’s on SALE!!! $15.99 instead of $21.49. Thrilled. Get downstairs to pay, HUGE lineup. Let my mild hangover wash over me as I wait about ten minutes for a cash and am a complete zombie by the time I reach the cash. Through the haze I think I hear something about $25 dollars, so I check my receipt on the way out and I was charge like $25 something. WTF.

Normally I’d let it slide, but thats a pretty big difference. I march back upstairs (whom I kidding? I took the escalator), and double check the signage – was definitely a possibility I just misunderstood the pricing. Nope, The scanned price was like $25 bucks, which didn’t match the shelf price, and clearly didn’t match my sale price. Back downstairs to join the massive lineup. Again.

I finally get to the cash and explain the error – the cashier informs me that I must have read the wrong price label and doesn’t seem to care. A ha! In a stroke of brilliance I had taken a photo, which helped to at least motivate the women to hop on the escalator herself and check out the situation (can’t they just call ‘merchandising’ or something over the loud speaker to make someone else do this?). Side Note: This is where the line behind me starts to get REALLY long.

Thankfully the cashier returns quickly with the price sticker confirming my story. At this point, I decide to just go for it and tap the sign next to the cashier that states the ‘Scanning Code of Practice’. Little known fact, but if an item is scanned and comes up as higher than the shelf labelled price you are entitled to get the item for FREE if its under $10 or get a $10 discount! I think the idea is that there is a large amount of trust involved in scanning, and this compensates for trust issues… or something. Regardless, I only knew about it because I was bored in a line up once (similar to the one that was forming behind me, ironically enough) and read the posted signage. Thankfully, the cashier knows exactly what I’m talking about and starts to process the refund/new transaction.

This is where everything gets horribly embarrassing for little old me. Little old INFECTED me. Remember, I’m at Shopper’s thanks to some questionable Mexican antibiotics and am purchasing CANESTEN. Its not like there is any other reason to buy this product – so most people in the line up behind me would be aware that I’m currently a little worse for wear. And there’s a big ick factor involved. I’m pretty much trying to avoid eye contact, but some of these people are right on top of me and are loudly lamenting about the lineup – which is now partially my fault, so I spit out some apologies and try to joke about it clearly being a bad day already for me.

I incorrectly assumed that the refund/purchase transaction would be quick and painless. I was horribly, horribly wrong. Over the next 5 minutes, two additional cashiers had to be called for assistance, the product was rang in more times then I care to remember, the box of canesten is passed back and forth a million times. I. Want. To. Die.

When she finally learns her job, after asking me for both my Optimum card and my Debit card about 14 times (stop handing them back!!), my new total comes to $3 and change – she remember the coupon with no prompting! So in the long run I saved about $22, lost 20 minutes or so of my life, and half the financial district knows I have a yeast infection.

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Filed under Funny Ha-Ha, How Embarrassing