It could only happen to me

I have a reputation, among my close friends, for being the one who 'funny things happen to.' I have been a source of entertainment for my friends for as long as I can remember. Right from our school days to the present day. I often hear little voices in my head, usually stating home truths such as: 'you bloody idiot...why me...it's always me...why am I so stupid...surely no-one else is this dense?' - you get the picture. Before I reveal my latest faux-pas, let me just take you back:

1. It's 1999, or there abouts, the girls and I are hanging out with a group of boys from HB's college class. We're all in the bedroom, probably listening to a tape of '90s dance music and eating copious amounts of sugary sweets (we were wild). While the rest just 'hung' around the bedroom, HB and I decide to lay on the bed, legs in the air against the wall. (Don't ask.) If this isn't ridiculous enough I start to do cycling movements with my legs mid air. This motion is clearly too much for my inner entrails as out puffs an almighty fart, to which HB splutters, 'errrrr was that you who farted?' Great. So here I was trying to impress the boys, act all cool and I'd blown it. Literally.

2. It's holiday time and the girls and I are on holiday in Greece. After spending a good hour preparing ourselves for a day of sunbathing on the beach, we saunter down to the beachside bar for a beverage or two. Obviously being very cool - sporting pigtail plaits and matching bikini and flip-flop combinations - we order alcoholic cocktails at 11 in the morning, just because we could. While Mrs. waits at the bar, HB and I hunt out an available table. So off we flip, balancing large sunglasses on our heads and oversized beach bags in our hands. We find a table, a nice spot on the edge of the terrace right next to the beach itself. Mrs. arrives with our drinks and places them on the table and so, to give her space to sit down, I scoot my chair a little further towards the edge of the terrace.

What a mistake.

Little did I know, but the legs of my chair were perilously close to edge of the terrace anyway and that little scoot along had literally sent them over the edge. As I scooted along, two of the legs met with thin air and off I toppled right onto the sand that was two foot below the terrace. There I lay, still holding onto the arms of the chair, sunglasses askew and my matching flipflops metres away, while HB and Mrs. snorted with laughter.

Believe me there are many more incidences including recently, whilst talking to a trainee at work and trying to be all serious, I leant on a chair in the staffroom, only to fall right over and to emerge standing with my shirt undone.

But anyway my latest 'you bloody idiot' moment happened this week on Friday.

Travelling home from work I decided that I had better get some petrol. I filled up and also bought myself a sandwich. I went to pay and punched in my PIN number. Once - wrong PIN. Twice - wrong PIN. The cashier looked at me, 'you'll be blocked if you get it wrong again,' he spat.

I spent an entire hour, AN HOUR on a Friday evening sitting in the petrol station, under close surveillance, while I tried frantically to remember my number. Needless to say, my brain did not start functioning and it was Jon who had to remind what my number was (he had been in a meeting so was not picking up his phone). Then to make matters worse, as I sat on a stool in the cafe area of the station I heard a little voice chirp,' alright Miss?'
I turned around to find one of the boys from my tutor group looking at me quizzically.
'You're probably wondering what I'm doing sitting alone in a petrol station,' I said to him.
'Yeah I am,' he chuckled.
So I told him the story, trying to maintain a shred of dignity and respect that should be present in any student-teacher relationship.
As he walked off he announced, 'you know Miss. If, you know, you can't get home. You can, you know, always stay at mine.'