Totally Awkward Tuesdays

Has anyone seen Tova Darling? She has been MIA, as far as I can tell, since the beginning of September. Does anyone know if she has started blogging elsewhere? Or did she simply grow tired of blogging?

I miss Tova, and one of the things I miss most (besides her relentlessly upbeat and entertaining style) is her Totally Awkward Tuesdays. I loved the opportunity to laugh at myself. Even more than that, I loved the opportunity to laugh at others! So I've decided to revive that tradition here on my own blog.

For those who may have forgotten the rules, here's how it works:

1. First, write a blog post about an awkward or embarassing moment that you either participated in or witnessed. Include a link to this blog post in your blog post.

2. Use the Mr. Linky widget at the bottom of this post to link to your blog post from mine. Leave me a comment, too, and include the URL for your blog post in the comment. That way, if for some reason Mr. Linky doesn't work properly (I'm new at this), at least everyone will be able to find your post through the comments.

3. Come back later and read everyone else's awkward and embarassing stories.

4. Laugh a lot!

See, it's simple and fun. Who could resist?

And, to kick things off, here's my totally awkward moment for this week:

When I was about 15, my friend Keri and I hung around with some slightly older (17 - 20 years old) guys who played in a band. They were a pretty decent cover band, but looking back, they were not spectacular. Nevertheless, hanging out with the boys in the band made us want to be in a rock-n-roll band, too.

So one day, Keri noticed an ad in the newspaper: "Wanted: lead singer and keyboardist for local rock band. Call 867-5309."

(Well, OK, that wasn't *really* the number, and the contact wasn't Jenny, but of course I don't remember the real number and that's the best I could come up with on short notice).

Keri and I both took piano lessons. We deluded ourselves into thinking we could sing, too. Of course, neither of us knew any rock-n-roll songs on the piano, having taken the standard "classical" piano lessons. And we didn't own a decent keyboard suitable for use in a band. (Keri had a grand piano and I had an upright.) Did we let that stop us? Heck no! "Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?" and "What have we got to lose?" we asked ourselves. (Answer: Our dignity.)

So, we called the number. I think I made Keri call, actually. She talked with the guitarist / leader of the band, and explained that neither of us had a car (I think we "forgot" to mention that neither of us was old enough to drive), so we asked him to come to my house for the "audition." The band must have been desperate because he agreed to bring the bassist along and come see us.

And then we were in full panic mode. How could we convince these guys that, even though we didn't know any rock-n-roll songs, we'd be willing and able to learn whatever songs they wanted us to play?

What did we come up with? This was our plan: Keri could play "Sounds of Silence," by Simon and Garfunkel, on the piano. She would play that, we would both sing, we'd wear sexy jeans and shirts, and they would hire us, at which point we would devote all of our free time to learning actual rock-n-roll songs! Good plan, right? (No, actually, it's pathetic!)

So, how *did* that work out? I hear you asking.

About as well as you would expect, I guess.

Two guys showed up. They asked what equipment we had.

Uh, equipment?

Yeah, you know, what kind of keyboard, what kind of amp system, what kind of mic's?

Oh, well... uh ... we have this piano.

You can't bring a piano to a bar for a concert!

Uh, well .... if you hire us, we'll buy a keyboard! (Yeah, that's it, we'll buy one!)

The guys exchanged skeptical glances and then said, "Well ... uh ... why don't you go ahead and show us what you've got."

So Keri played Sounds of Silence reasonably well, and we both sang awfully badly.

The guys said, "Uh, thanks. We'll be in touch." And high-tailed it out of there.

I am guessing they laughed about us for *years*!


Ok, now it's your turn! Share your awkwardness so we can all laugh with (at) you, too!