When I first read this week’s Finish The Sentence prompt of
“I’ve Never Had the Courage To …”
I positively cringed.
I immediately thought of this delight –
Yes, I equate Notting Hill’s most indiscreet chap with that of the online world. Put one thing out there and it has the potential to go viral. I expect you’re grinning right now and thinking “Kelly’s delusional. Only a handful will read her paltry confession.”
Maybe. However, a very wise and tech savvy friend scared the bejesus out of me last year. He confessed he no longer read my blog as I was “sharing far too much personal information.” I was gobsmacked. I used only first names, the photos of my children were a good ten years old and the others obscured their faces. Didn’t matter. He launched into an alarming and enlightening discussion about the dangerous potential of what could happen because of what I chose to share.
Long story short? I’ve become extremely cautious about what I write. His advice is my mantra.
“Think long and hard before you press “publish.” Everyone, I mean EVERYONE, has access to whatever you post …”
Oh what the hell.
We could all do with good laugh, could we not? I’ll share something I’ve never had the courage to share before.
This little cringeworthy vignette took place decades ago. Pre marriage, pre children, pre blogging. I was in my early 20s and working at a charter bus company. As the person who ran the Seniors department, it was my job to coordinate and market the Christmas Lights Tours.
On these tours that cruised past the plethora of festively decorated homes (carefully sourced by yours truly just days before) we offered an attractive array of onboard delights. These included hot chocolate, delicious cookies, festive carol sheets and a jolly onboard host.
Ok kidlets gather around the fire for a Just TypiKel reveal …
I’ve Never Had The Courage To …
It’s the time of old school Christmas Staff parties. Limited to staff personnel only, the booze is endlessly flowing. I’m not driving; it’s two hours in and I’ve got a good solid buzz on. Rum and coke being my beverage of choice, I’ve stopped counting after four.
Three Christmas Light Tours are on tonight’s docket; the hot chocolate canteens, cookies and carol sheets are ready. Two of my three hosts have reported for duty. All is calm, all is bright.
Until I’m handed the phone.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t host tonight. My car won’t start and I’m still an hour away.”
WHAT!?! Please NO! He has to show up. It’s far too late to recruit another host. I run over my list of options. Oh gawd. There is only one. Me. It’ll be fine. I can still walk. And talk. My chortling and absurdly less than sympathetic pals pour me a hefty departure drink which I down in a trice.
My sober driver isn’t fooled. He hands me a scotch mint and I stagger off to the bus.
What a treat. It’s the very best one of the fleet. It seats 73 and is a two-story version. Access to the upper level is reached via a spiral staircase. Ferrying hot chocolate up that gem would be interesting at the best of times however with the blind optimism of the severely inebriated I have the utmost confidence I can do anything.
The trip is sold out. As people file onto the bus I’m dimly aware that we’re outside an impressively imposing church. The last passenger to board reaches out to take my hand.
“Hello. I’m Pastor Reid. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He’s a looker. Nice. Of course, that generous, 95% rum departure drink chooses this moment to kick in.
“Plesshures all mine, sir. Welcome board!”
With a curious, concerned look on his face he turns for the stairs.
Cookies or hot chocolate first? I can’t remember. Maybe song sheets. Yes, I feel like singing. I grab for the PA.
“Songs! Let’s sing!”
With great enthusiasm I hustle up and down both aisles dispensing the stapled song booklets; several somehow snagging on a few carefully coiffed bouffants. We work our way through at least six songs before I find myself shouting,
“Hot chocolate! Wahooooo! Who wants a drink?”
The next half hour flies by. I’m a hot chocolate dispensing machine. Styrofoam cups are dispatched with abandon. The content level varies with each cup; while none are full to the top (due to inevitable spillage on my part) most are at least half full.
I’m starting to flag. I need another drink but of course there’s only virginal hot chocolate on board. Come on Kelly there’s still an hour to go. My lovely passengers need food! Of course, the yummy cookies!
“Cookies! Cookies for all!”
Man this tray is heavy. I’m sure to spill them all over the floor so I’d best toss them to the folks at the front.
“Heads down boys and girls. Here they come!”
I reach into the tray, scoop up a handful of cookies, raise my right elbow way behind my head and release. Cookies wing through the air. Some bounce off seat backs, others off windows and one or two magically plop into the laps of a few passengers up front. Have I done enough damage? Certainly not. I repeat this egregious behaviour on the upper level as well.
WIth the tray finally empty and my energy seriously flagging I deem it necessary to mount the spiral staircase and slide gracefully to the bottom. I land with a thump. Summoning all of my late grandmother’s aristocratic bearing I pull myself up, carefully smooth out my sadly creased party skirt and offer a low sweeping bow to the shocked onlooking passengers.
Good job Kel. They’ll never forget this Christmas Lights Tour.
They didn’t.
Fast forward ten months. A group has called for our latest list of trip offerings and it’s my job to deliver.
Pastor Reid doesn’t recognize me and warmly shakes my hand.
“We’ll do any trip that doesn’t require a host. We don’t touch alcohol and your host last year was exceedingly intoxicated.”
Do I own up? Absolutely not. I haven’t had the courage to confess my sins until now. Some 30 years later.
Time to thank our Finish the Sentence Friday hosts. Thanks so much to our regular hosts Kristi Campbell at http://www.findingninee.com and Stephanie Sprenger at http://
Enough about me and my toe curling horrid drunken night as a host for nondrinkers. I’m curious about you. Have you ever done something so shameful that you’ve never been foolish enough had the courage to share? Come on. Spill. It’s only me here on the other side of the screen. I won’t tell. Honest. If you’d care to share, I’d love to hear.
63 Responses
He really didn’t recognize you? That makes it all the more awesome. (And whew!) I think I absolutely would have died on the spot if he had recognized me under those circumstances. Not that the rest of the story wasn’t fabulous enough – thanks for sharing!
Nope he didn’t Lisa. Thankfully. I was glowing fuchsia and dying a 1000 deaths all the same. The only thing that saved me all around was that I was a last minute replacement. Mind you, I severely cut back my intake at subsequent office Christmas parties.
You didn’t …but then again you did. The slide down the staircase takes the cake. Brave post.
Thank you. And yes I did. Still grateful the railing was sturdily affixed. Uh huh.
You threw the cookies! Omg, I am in hysterics. A night to remember, for all ;)! I wonder though… do you think the Pastor really didn’t recognize you???
I do think he didn’t. He was up top in the front that night. It was dark up there and I was wearing a jaunty Santa hat over my longish hair. Ten months later I was sporting blonder, short hair. However who knows? I was just glad he was kind enough to want to try our company again …
That was a hoot, Kelly! It’s like something you’d see on “I Love Lucy.” Do you remember the Vitametavegimen sketch? I would have loved to have seen you slide down that banister 😀
OMG! I have just spent an hilarious 10 minutes watching the Vitametavegimen sketch. Sooooo funny. Thank you Lyn. You made my day.
Wow! I’mm so glad I’ve never had a job that I could just be called in for. You managed to get through it, follies and all. And it seems, not get fired.
On one hand, I think you’re friend is right, we should be cautious about what we post, but on the other hand, the community that’s being built is a substitute for one we don’t have in real life because so many people are afraid to share. I meet a lot of women, but getting close is another story. I’m not saying it’s just them, I’m guarded too. Finding the right blogging community is finding the people who “get” you. You don’t have to prove yourself to them, you can just be you.
Nope I wasn’t fired. My manager was the one who offered me the departure drink. She’d hosted on one of the tours and knew I was sad for having to leave the party to do that! Different times, I tell ya.
And yes, it is lovely getting to know a different communtity online, isn’t it? The key is to find the right blogging community. The sharing happens then.
Too funny!
After that night I think I would have recommended that parties didn’t start until all the buses had returned back to the depot.
Ha! Good idea Kathy. In our case, the parties moved to a restaurant and I always had a backup plan if a host called in to cancel. Happily no one ever did again.
Kidding about throwing the cookies, right?
Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm …
Hahaha! Your tech saavy friend who warned you about oversharing is likely shaking his head right now…but that’s ok – your story was worth it!
He’d be okay with it I think as it is about me. It’s the sharing of the kids’ photos and making them accessible to all that he was mostly concerned about I think. However, yes, he’s probably shaking his head about my behaviour and saying to himself “just TypiKel”
Wow! Kelly the last line threw me off…hallelujah!
Glad he did not recognize you 🙂
As am I.
I needed a good laugh this morning and you sure provided one! I actually spit out my coffee picturing you tossing cookies like grenades to all the old people on board. I’m sure they were ducking for cover.
You have a marvelous sense of humour and a wonderful way with words. I like your blog a lot and am very happy to have discovered it today.
Thank you for seeing them as old. They were. Average age was late 70s. And yes it was quite the one-sided combat zone. Said cookies were butter shortbread and they had quite the heft to them. At least there were few crumbs as they were far from crumbly.
I wish I had been on that tour! I’m glad you had the courage to tell us this story, because it is too good not to tell. I have personally NEVER done anything embarrassing while drinking alcohol. Not that I remember, anyway.
Oh it would have lightened the load had you been along Dana. I’d say “next time” but thankfully I’ll try and not put myself in that position again. Still cringing.
OMG Kelly!!! I would have LOVED to have been on that bus with you! Throwing cookies? HAHAH!!! So so funny. Seriously! Thank you so much for doing the big reveal for FTSF! I love it! 🙂
Ok should there be a next time I’ll give you a shout. Bring a helmet. Those cookies are hefty!
What Kristi said! I would have loved to cohost with you! And nobody took a video?! What a loss that would have gone viral. 😉
Hahaha! Very true. Ok next time I’ll give you, Dana and Kristi a shout and we’ll cohost. Bring a helmet – those cookies are hefty.
Ok, I’m torn. On the one hand, this seems like fiction. I mean, drunk bus host lady throwing cookies at tea-totaling seniors, and belting out drunken songs over the microphone — this has to be vintage Joan Rivers or Lucille Ball, right?
OTOH, it is you who wrote the post. Kelly, of the Fish Fertilizer and setting the neighbors house on fire.
Soooooooooo…… Truth or Fiction?
(dah, dah, dah)
Great post, as usual!!! 😉
Your comment has me grinning Anna. Thank you. As for whether it’s fact or fiction (duh duh duh) sadly it is. Winged cookies and all. Hopefully the Pastor and his gang have chartered new lights I mean heights and long forgotten that little adventurous tour. By the way – it was one of the clear few nights where the lights could be seen properly! Don’t get me started on rainy nights with dripping, steamy windows …
LOL – thank goodness for haircuts and new colors and 30 years distance.
Truer words were never said Deborah. Never.
Omg, that was hilarious ! Throwing cookies and sliding down the rail ! Can’t believe he didn’t recognize you.
Oh I cannot tell you how happy I was that he didn’t. However, my palms were sweaty and my face was a glowing beacon, I can tell you!
This would have made a great sitcom episode! I just have a hard time imagining you doing all this 🙂
Oh, Kelly, would you mind linking my name to my blog (http://www.sandinmytoes.tk/) instead of my Facebook profile? Thank you!
Ok – I”ll go change it now Tarana. Thank you for pointing that out!
Done!
Well I must say that is very kind of you. I have a hard time admitting that it is all true. That’s what who-knows-how-many-rum-and-cokes will do for me …
I haven’t forgotten the night my good friend, Barbara, and I helped you out on one of your Christmas Nights Tours a few years ago, Kel. We had our doubts as the bus rolled away, swinging from side to side through curtains of deep mist. Not only were the lights invisible we had to keep up a running chatter to tell everyone what they really looked like. Heaven knew if we were even on the right street. Your decision to let everyone off as soon as you caught a glimpse of Santa’s red costume in order that they might finally get up and close to a delightful vision was not very wise. The mist descended again and all the bodies fainted away. Yoohooing through tthe fog, we gradually collected one after the other. Then I realized we had to push them individually from the rear back up the steps of the bus as we had parked on a steep hill. The driver came down and helped shove. We thought it was hysterical and hooted away with each effort. There were no tips that night. Just dozens of dirty mugs to wash. Love, Mom.
Oh dear gawd – you’ve got me howling here Mom. Howling.Everything you say about your experience is painfully true.I do apologise.
I loved your honesty – but as always – i love your sense of humor! I guess the minister was more involved in – hmmm – i’m not sure what – maybe “flock” control? I think you are correct – he didn’t remember you – he possibly never saw YOU!
Thank you Vickie! Grinning over the flock control comment. That’s exactly what it was like and yes, he possibly never even saw me.
Well, I do admire your courage to spill the beans online! You’re right about spilling too much though – I too let it all hang out only to commit social media suicide. I now judiciously avoid telling all, funny though it may be, because not everyone can see the fun in it!
Yes, one does need to be careful. The trick is learning the balance between connecting with readers and not sharing too much.
Oh, this was hilarious!!! My youngest son came in to see why I was laughing so hard – I didn’t feel the need to share because somehow I don’t think he would appreciate it as much as I did. My favorite was throwing the cookies:)
THANK YOU for NOT sharing it with him! Should I ever meet him I’d dread the “Oh you’re the cookie throwing lady!” Hahahah!Yes, not one of my finer moments I must say. I just shared it with my daughter for the first time a day or two before I posted it online to the world. She grinned and gave me the thumbs up. So ….
HA HA HA HA HA HA!! Thank GOD (LITERALLY in this case!) that Pastor Reid did not remember you!! I am CRYING with laughter!! The cookie throwing part sent me over the edge! Pinning this gem to Blogs We Love right now! :)-Ashley
Yes that’s exactly it. Thank GOD he didn’t remember me. Thanks for pinning Ashley!
You are a RIOT. YES, the cookie throwing part was awesome. I had a grin I could wipe off my face right from the moment you invited us to sit by the virtual fire, but this was better than I imagined (and I knew it was going to be awesome). AWESOME.
Aw thank you Katia. And I have to say the distance of 30 years has made it a tad less cringeworthy for me …
Your posts always get me laughing out loud (which is rare for me) so I don’t know WHAT I would do if you stopped sharing your stories online! Don’t listen to that guy… Keep posting away!!!
What a lovely thing to say! Thank you Elda. I shall.
That is freaking hysterical!!! I am definitely an over-sharer on my blog. But my blog is about my life, which is an open book. I have become more cautious of what I share in regards to my older daughter. But my mantra has always been, would I share this to a stranger at a cocktail party. If the answer is yes, I post. If the answer is yes after 3 pinot grigios I edit and still share 🙂
Oh Kerri this is such good advice. “Would I share this with a stranger at a cocktail party?” Brilliant. I’m adopting it now as well. Even after 3 pinot grigios.
Hilarious. Hats off to your honesty. I hope someday I’ll be able to share an account of mine. This is the first time I read a post of yours. Made me laugh. Will come back for more:)
Oh there are usually tidbits of classic Just TypiKel exposure over here waiting for you. Thank you for reading and for leaving a comment!
Oh Kelly….. sooo very funny and trust me when I say we have all been there! I was out drinking with my friends and we decided to head down to the karaoke bar! Just as I reach the entrance I see a young man on stage with a microphone. I assume he is about to sing…I charge up the steps to the stage….lose my balance…and if not for him would have fallen and probably required an ambulance! You think I would have realized at that point that I had a bit too much to drink…but oh no I continue. “What shall we sing”……his reply, “This isn’t karaoke night…this is comedy night”. I turn around and there is a whole audience watching our every move……”holy crap!” I reached up and gave the kid a peck on the cheek ( which pleased the audience to no end…lol), thanked him from saving me from certain death, and somehow managed to exit the stage with some modicum of grace! What a night!
I cannot tell you how much pleasure this comment gave me. Of course you thought it was karaoke night. Oh. My. Gawd. This would be me. Thank you SO much for sharing! Still grinning.
This was great. Just great! Thanks for the laugh. Sorry that I’m not sharing in return. I’ve done enough self-disclosure today on my own site. I suppose you could read it there – apologies and all. 🙂
I’ll toddle over for a look Stacy!
That is so funny, I’m not surprised you didn’t confess. But I’m in awe you actually managed to do such a big job on such short notice, alcohol or not.
Now there’s a point! Thank you Tat. Feeling a bit better about it.
Great story and fantastic writing, Kelly! I really enjoyed it. I wouldn’t have confessed to Pastor Reid, either 🙂 And while I agree with your friend that some people do over share (and for no other reason than gaining publicity), sharing stories like yours helps us connect on a more personal level. So thank you for sharing and I look forward to reading more stories like these! personal stories.. not necessarily embarrassing stories 🙂
Oh why thank you Mayan! I do appreciate you stopping by and leaving a comment. Hopefully most of my revelations will be less on the embarrassing side but I can’t guarantee it!