Out of my depth
As a schoolkid, I signed up for a public speaking contest purely as a ruse to meet girls. It haunts me still: in front of 300 people, I started to speak, dried up, stood there for what felt like half an hour staring at the floor and then slowly walked back to my seat. Oh, and the girl I liked laughed.
Have you ever been utterly, completely, devastatingly out of your depth?
( , Thu 14 Oct 2004, 15:07)
As a schoolkid, I signed up for a public speaking contest purely as a ruse to meet girls. It haunts me still: in front of 300 people, I started to speak, dried up, stood there for what felt like half an hour staring at the floor and then slowly walked back to my seat. Oh, and the girl I liked laughed.
Have you ever been utterly, completely, devastatingly out of your depth?
( , Thu 14 Oct 2004, 15:07)
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I was never the biggest kid in school
I’d like to say that for what I lacked in size I made up for in moral outrage, but my experiences have led me to believe moral outrage is a BAD THING. Once, when all the other kids had grown up and me and a few mates were still children (not sure if anything’s changed 10 years on) we were in the school canteen and my mate decided to throw a pea at me. I naturally was compelled to throw one back and things began to escalate. Our ballistic proliferation was quickly brought to a halt, however, when my mate’s aim strayed and a pea in tomato ketchup hit the guy next to me. Never good, this was made worse by the fact he happened to be one of the biggest kids in school, and a psycho to boot. He was not amused. My mate was safe, being across the table and a few seats down. The psycho decided that fair would be to wipe his ketchup-covered tie on my uniform. I got up to leave, and then that bloody moral outrage kicked in. That’s when I tipped my entire tray of food- curry, rice, and peas, into said psycho’s lap. I didn’t stop for a reaction and, honestly, I calmly walked off- I think I’d gone into pre-traumatic shock. I went back to the common room, where, somehow it had already become common knowledge and people kept coming up to ask about it. I just felt a bit sick. Sure enough, Psycho stormed in a few minutes later and I got my pasting. Funny thing was, moral outrage still hadn’t f##ked me over enough, and instead of ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Have some money’, all that could come out of my mouth was ‘You’re a f##king Neanderthal’ over and over again, which did nothing to curtail the beating. I think bewilderment was what saved me. The guy didn’t know what to make of the streak of pi$$ that wouldn’t shut up. Sort of like a early, completely uncool version of fightclub.
Apologies for Length – First Post.
( , Tue 19 Oct 2004, 10:07, Reply)
I’d like to say that for what I lacked in size I made up for in moral outrage, but my experiences have led me to believe moral outrage is a BAD THING. Once, when all the other kids had grown up and me and a few mates were still children (not sure if anything’s changed 10 years on) we were in the school canteen and my mate decided to throw a pea at me. I naturally was compelled to throw one back and things began to escalate. Our ballistic proliferation was quickly brought to a halt, however, when my mate’s aim strayed and a pea in tomato ketchup hit the guy next to me. Never good, this was made worse by the fact he happened to be one of the biggest kids in school, and a psycho to boot. He was not amused. My mate was safe, being across the table and a few seats down. The psycho decided that fair would be to wipe his ketchup-covered tie on my uniform. I got up to leave, and then that bloody moral outrage kicked in. That’s when I tipped my entire tray of food- curry, rice, and peas, into said psycho’s lap. I didn’t stop for a reaction and, honestly, I calmly walked off- I think I’d gone into pre-traumatic shock. I went back to the common room, where, somehow it had already become common knowledge and people kept coming up to ask about it. I just felt a bit sick. Sure enough, Psycho stormed in a few minutes later and I got my pasting. Funny thing was, moral outrage still hadn’t f##ked me over enough, and instead of ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Have some money’, all that could come out of my mouth was ‘You’re a f##king Neanderthal’ over and over again, which did nothing to curtail the beating. I think bewilderment was what saved me. The guy didn’t know what to make of the streak of pi$$ that wouldn’t shut up. Sort of like a early, completely uncool version of fightclub.
Apologies for Length – First Post.
( , Tue 19 Oct 2004, 10:07, Reply)
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