Foot in Mouth

I suffer from a terrible, debilitating disease: foot in mouth. An affliction that prevents my overactive mind from processing the words I say before I say them. This often creates a humorous anecdote, but occasionally, makes me look like a complete prick. My inability to think before I talk has frequently landed me in seriously deep shit. Unlike writing where I can re-read, delete and edit the stupidity (or most of it at least) off the page, my verbal skills are instantaneous and undiluted. I am just utterly useless in awkward social situations.

For instance, I was in a pub a few years ago when a tough-guy-drug-dealer stormed in demanding I told him where one of his “lads” was hiding from him. I remarked that I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about (which was true) and that maybe he should keep a better eye on his bitches or used a stronger leash. This ended up with my drunken arse laid out on the floor with a broken nose.

Another time, at a family funeral, I was asked if I was close to the deceased. I looked over to the coffin and quipped “close enough I suppose, I can see him from here” to a look of disgust from my distant relations. I wasn’t meaning to be glib, I just didn’t want to embark on a deep and depressing conversation with that irritating cousin I only see at family events such as the funeral.

There was a curious incident when I was high with a friend and his girlfriend and they asked if I wanted a threesome. I looked at Lizzie, a gorgeous and mightily desirable woman, then at Colin, her equally attractive partner and responded with a remark I regret to this day: “not much point in us both leaving her frustrated and unsatisfied”. Even now ten years on I look back at that comment as one of the most stupid to ever spill from my mouth.

Whilst at school I was caught smoking a joint with a girl in the year above me. It was her joint and she had invited me to join her, but when questioned she pleaded innocence and that I had orchestrated the whole thing. When asked if this was true by my head of year, I replied with, “please, my weed is way nicer. Go check my locker if you don’t believe me”. He did and I was subsequently suspended.

My final example is one of my most ridiculous moments. During a job interview for a position I desperately wanted, I felt the tide turning against me. I could see in the three stern faces in front of me that I was losing them. In a bid to win them over, I told them this little tale to make them laugh and see how much fun I would be to work with.

I was in Spain overnight doing a favour for a friend. He had put me up in a nice hotel and sent me with some spending money to enjoy myself. I sat in a bar called the “Hole In The Wall”, drinking with a fellow Brit tourist by the name of Chloe and the barman (whose name escapes me). As the night wore on we switched from beers to mixers, then on to spirits. Chloe and I had been flirting most of the night and it was time to walk to one of our hotels and enjoy a night of no-strings strange. As we walked through the busy town we were stopped by two Spanish police officers who asked what we were up to. Without hesitation and with a stone cold, serious expression on my face I responded with, “well, officers, my lady friend and I have just arrived from Britain. We’re wanted for three armed robberies of toy shops. You see officer, those Darth Maul figures you’ve seen on the telly are in short supply and we’re a bit skint. So, we nicked all we could find and are now selling them on eBay”. Both Chloe and I spent four days in a Spanish cell for my utter stupidity. She never did speak to me again.


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