If You Are Going to Fall, Why Not in Front of 8000 People?

Ok, so I asked the question in an earlier post of which story I should post that shows why my blog could have been called "1 Clumsy Man!". They may all appear at some point but for now here goes...

In an old job I had we used to have a convention annually in the States, which I would attend. The climax of the event was an awards banquet for 8000 people, where I and other management would be recognised on stage and our egos massaged. My immediate thought was whether anyone had ever fallen on stage before. The answer being a resounding no! Well as people's names started to be called members of the management team ran up the ramp on to stage and to my horror started to "high five" each other.

I say horror, because I am an English man. We don't "high five"!!! Period!! It fills us with fear of missing, weakly patting hands or maybe slapping some poor person in the face. And I was one of the last so would have to literally run along high fiving about 50 people. Well, fear in my heart, legs and my nervous sweaty hand, I set off. I sped towards the ramp, raised my hand and stumbled. If not for the line of hands continually hitting mine I would have been flat on my face. Doesn't sound too bad your thinking? That's because the following year is when it all went wrong properly.

Same scenario. 8000 people in the audience, a sea of hands in the air waiting for my weak English swipe. And the previous years stumble on my mind. That's when someone bet with me I wouldn't take a bow halfway across the stage. How little they knew me?

Off I ran confidently. A new focus to take my mind off falling. My hand firmly met the waiting palms until I reached the centre of the stage. My run being beamed onto a massive screen for all 8000 to see. I suddenly realised that with the hands outstretched from everyone I needed to side step away to take my bow! If only I had put more thought into this. More importantly... If only I had noticed the drop to my left. Down I went!! I dragged myself sheepishly to my feet, and meekly high fived the rest of my colleagues. Was I mocked? Of course. I endured a few days jibes and comments but that's fine. Surely it would soon be forgotten.

A few months later a package appeared on the desks of all the UK staff. A good friend of mine in the States office had searched high and low and found footage of my fall. I am so glad that thanks to him there are now DVD's dotted around the country that showcase my balletic grace!

Thanks Wade.

Why Can't I Get Some Massive Shoes??

I am sure you can imagine my excitement when I saw this sign in a shop window? Who wouldn't be excited? So in I go...

"I would like a pair of massive shoes please." A simple request I thought. "What size are you?" the shop assistant asks. Of course I didn't think it mattered! They are massive shoes. What size I am isn't relevant is it? I just wanted some massive shoes! Imagine people at TESCO wondering where the painted footprints for the cash machine were, while I smugly stood there like Krusty the clown obscuring their view.

Apparently I had got it wrong. The sign meant there was a massive sale of shoes occurring. How was I to know? I feel rather cheated. Maybe I should get trading standards involved. You can't place such dreams of grandeur in a mans head by advertising massive shoes for sale and then smash them to pieces.

I left rather deflated, my ordinary, average size feet shuffling out of the shop. I guess I can still dream...