Funny you should post this* today*…looks at location…oh, wait, you can probably smell it from there… :o
I encountered this recently, when I met my SO’s father’s family. At least three or four of his relatives told my SO how much my son resembles him. I’ve been with my SO for six months; my son is three years old. We both laughed about it afterward, but I wonder if they thought he had some girlfriend that they’d never heard of hidden away for the last four years… 
(And they don’t look a bit alike, anyway.)
I work on front counter for a fast food chain (duh) and we’re told to say 'Enjoy your meal/have a good day/night." and i always muck that up.
However, you get the smart asses who say “Have a Nice Day” after picking up their baggie and leaving me mumbling garbled farewells so it come out as
“Have a nice d-night…crap!”
I do things carefully and the smallest thing throws me so when people do that I’m stuck moving my mouth like a dying fish.
Well, today, I went to starbucks, and it was a revolving door at the Corner of Adams And Wells in Chicago (very very busy, financial district). I went into the revolving door, revolved past the opening and walked right into the glass of the closed in portion.
Fortunately, only about 100,000 people saw it happen.
This is why I prefer small-town life. It severly limits the number of people who can see you do any one stupid thing.
Of course, they’ll all talk about it until the whole town knows.
And they’ll reminisce about it.
For years.
I’m glad to see I’m not the only person with revolving door issues. Guess I watched too many Jerry Lewis/Danny Kaye/Laurel & Hardy type movies when I was growing up to be really comfortable with something that may provide amusement for thousands of admiring viewers.
Met some people at a friend’s christmas party once. We were talking about the imprending demise if Minicon, a Minneapolis SF convention.
Us: Last time we went to MiniCon, the programming totally sucked!
New people: We ran children’s programming at the last minicon.
Us: Except for children’s programming! That was great! Still talking about how good it was! (are they buying it? I don’t think they’re buying it…)
Wait, we’re not supposed to caress close friends in a non-sexual way? Not even if we’re both straight men? No-one wonder people looked at us oddly. 
How about Taking the Wrong Guy’s Arm? Walking out of a theater, see a guy in a blue shirt beside me, think it’s hubby and tuck my hand into his arm, only to have some strange guy jerk his arm out of my grasp…::cringe:: :smack: :smack: :smack:
It’s good to know that I’m not the only social disaster in the world. I think i’ve done 9/10 of the things said so far though.
The other day as I was coming back from the bathroom I see a post-it on my desk asking me to go see my boss. So I walk into her office to see what she needed. For some reason she kept looking away from me, and she dismissed me rather quickly. Now, my boss and I have a pretty good relationship, so I was trying to figure out what I had done to cause her to be so abrupt with me. I get back to my desk and realize my pants were unzipped. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I wasn’t wearing any underwear. I have no idea what she did or didn’t see. :smack:
Oh, c’mon, people! This opportunity is perfect!
“Walk ‘n’ roll, dude!”
I have spastic colon and other nasty tummy problems so when that gas pressure builds I usually try, try I say, to produce a "Silent But Deady"poot-however I always hear it and feel that I must excuse myself. It does seem that I do the SBD very well but that my hearing is just too sharp—however the surrounding populace is neither listening nor apparently breathing–because invariably I end up having to explain that I just “tooted” and if I had just kept my trap shut noone would have been the wiser. Curses! :smack:
A woman a few weeks ago at Chipotle was having lunch with a young man, and I noticed that she was wearing GLARING PINK capri pants. Like neon melon color. What I also noticed is that down the back leg was the ‘size sticker’ we women are familiar with:
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
16
Poor woman. I couldn’t bear to tell her.
I didn’t see this one, but it nearly got me eviscerated:
Using the WRONG Casual Greeting
While I was in the Navy I had a habit of greeting people with ‘What’s up,’ followed by some name or nickname. Usually, I’d go by their rank, or their job. So you’d have ‘What’s up, Guns?’ ‘What’s up, Senior Chief?’ ‘What’s up, Boss?’ et al. Then I made the mistake of using the casual nickname for the ship’s senior corpsman with that prefix.
Saying ‘What’s up, Doc?’ is NOT going to cheer a 20 year corpsman. Whether you meant it to be clever or not. And Senior Chiefs can eviscerate REALLY well, too.
How about the dreaded GENDER-VAGUE NAME MISHAP?
I had a message on my machine, from my placement agency, telling me to call Michelle Whatever for a job interview.
I dial the number, and a woman answers in French. Not surprising, since I’m in Quebec and all. “Hi, may I speak to Madame Michelle Whatever?”
Silence. A long, odd silence, convincing me I’ve done something very wrong. Then a snotty voice asking “you mean *Monsieur Michel * Whatever.”
Yeah. Didn’t get that job.
Danielle/Daniel, Michelle/Michel, René/Renée. Enough to drive you mad!
Then there are the ones you see written and don’t know what to do with them. Jean, for example. Anglophone woman or Francophone guy?
Ah, no one’s posted mine yet.
Using the WRONG Casual Greeting II: Electric Boogaloo
or, FLUSTERFUCK!
There’s this girl that was in a class of mine last semester. I knew her slightly; I had been a witness for a mock trial team she was on, and it turned out that she lives on the same Metro stop as my girlfriend, so I saw her out and about every once in a while. Her name is Jennifer.
So my girlfriend and I are walking to a friend’s house one night - I think we were on the way to an Oscar party - and I see a couple coming towards us. At the last second, I see that it’s Jennifer and her husband. She says, “Hi, Gad!”
Attempting to sound casual and thus stave off the embarrassment of not having noticed her sooner, I start to say, “Hi, Jen!”
About halfway through the greeting, my brain suddenly realizes, “Wait a minute! I’ve never heard anyone call her Jen. As far as I know, she only goes by Jennifer. It might be inappropriately familiar for me to call her Jen. Must remedy this.”
So out of my mouth comes, “Hi, Jen…ny.”
:smack:
My feet, locked in autopilot, carried us past them before I could do any more damage. It may just be me, but I think she’s been marginally less friendly ever since then.
Oh, man, I cannot WAIT to met you at the next local DopeFest. What a scream!
I’ve done the **INSULT A FAVORITE NAME ** one several times.
As in “Tina. God I’m so sick of that name. Every Tina I’ve ever known has been such a bitch”
“Um…my mom’s name is Tina”
Even worse is that I just cannot stand all the Macutsiepoo names that are so trendy right now (Katelynne, Bayleigh, Makenzie and so forth) and I’ll expound upon it loud and clear to anyone who will listen. In public. Not the best way to win friends, loudly proclaming that their sweet little squishums has a trashy name.
How about the famous:
THIS IS MY SEAT!! MY TICKET SAYS RIGHT HERE - oh. Never mind…
Um, yeah, you’re in Aisle 67? This is Aisle 65? See the sign? Mmm-hmm… So just skedaddle outta my way, I can’t see the stage…
:smack:
I would hate to disappoint you, scout, but unless there are many distinguished dignitaries, elegant hushed music and a general shitload of rich, well-dressed people floating about, I’m afraid I’m not near as likely to have a repeat performance. :rolleyes:
All the same, if you’d be so kind as to stand nearby with a large glass of water, I’d appreciate it. 
I had someone do that to me on a plane. I checked her ticket when she showed it to me. I said yes, you’re in seat 29A - but you should be on a plane to New York. This is a plane to Washington DC. (This was pre-2001, in the airport in Milan. You went through your gate, down a ramp to the tarmac, and caught a trolley to the plane. She must have gotten confused somehow.)