a randy post - enjoy!
My ability to embarrass myself hits another sickening milestone.
So last week, I got an email from Emil that said “Enjoy!” and contained a link to a website. The website had a list of the first 50 years of Playboy centerfolds - clickable links to the photos starting with December 1953 (Marilyn Monroe) and ending with July 2004 (some tramp.)
Why he sent it to me is not important to the story - what is important is that I was in the middle of doing about 20 different things when the email came in. Once I saw it had to do with Playboy, I forwarded it to my friend Randy, which is what I do every time someone sends me a racy email. Normally, I include some sort of saucy comment to go with the racy email, but this time, I was in such a rush that I didn’t put any message. Just forwarded it to him robotically.
As it got whooshed from of my outbox and sent on its racy way, I realized that I didn’t send it to my friend Randy. I sent it to Randy The Realtor who was coming to my house the next day.*
oh….god….
I wish someone would program a voice recognition widget for email applications so that if you hit “send” and immediately shout an expletive, it stops sending the email. Like a 5-second FCC delay - but for email. It can’t be a complicated drop-down menu and click on three things - because when something like this happens, you don’t have the mental wherewithal to do anything but grab both sides of your head and curse.
Anyway…
Once I exhausted my list of known curse-words and made up a few new ones, I let go of my head and immediately sent an apology email: “I am SO sorry, that was meant for my friend Randy, I am really embarrassed, please disregard that last email, wow am I embarrassed,” etc.
Then it occurred to me that I should really see how bad the damage was. I went back to the website, but instead of clicking on some of the earlier centerfolds as I had already done (the old centerfolds are rather classy and artistic) I scrolled down the page, which revealed actual photos, not links. Large recent photos of unclassy and unartistic nakedness. My stomach started to hurt. Then I saw a link on the top of the page for “Gallery 2″, which contained even more nakedness that was even more unclassy. And now, Randy the Realtor knows thinks that I “Enjoy!” such material. And he is probably wondering why I would send that to him the day before our meeting. “Hey, Randy - there’s more of this over at my house! See you tomorrow…” Oh the awful repercussions are just endless.
I doubted that my email was sufficient damage control. If I had checked the website first, I would have sent an email that said something along the lines of “Ooops, I meant to send that to Reverend Randy who runs the ‘Christians Against Nakedness Except When It’s Necessary For Procreation’ watchdog group, of which I am an avid member.”
Randy the Realtor either doesn’t check his email, or he is the epitome of good manners because he sent no reply and did not even acknowledge my unthinkable blunder when I saw him the next day. At least someone in this situation has some class.
As embarrassing as this was, it could have been much much worse:
Why yes, those are handcuffs attached to her bedpost - forever documented in the Weekend Shopper and now immortalized on the internet. (click on the pic to enlarge) I love her oblivious smile.
*do not panic. we are not selling our house.
June 8th, 2008 at 4:39 pm
[…] in action and in speech. But in case you’re new, you can catch up by reading my posts about this email blunder, this hour of dumbassery, the time I got molested by a giant ice-cream cone (which sounds much more […]