Your most embarrassing story
Oh My God Paddy.
Remind me to lock the bedroom door.
I was sharing a house with a wonderful flamboyant man in Edmonton during the early 1980s. His parents owned the house and we were renting.
My roommate and I were young, attending university, working in trendy downtown restaurants and partying our faces off.
My friend's father, Mr. K., was bald, but he always wore a hat, so I never really noticed. Well, I guess Mr. K. didn't like to be bald and had always wanted to buy a toupee, but it took him years to work up the nerve.
Then my friend came home after spending Christmas "at home" one year and told me his dad had bought himself a toupee. I quess this was quite the thing and his dad was proud, but somewhat sensitive about the whole affair.
I didn't think much of it, because I couldn't picture his dad without his usual 40s style rim hat and put it out of my mind.
A few weeks later, Mr. K. knocked on our door on a very hungover Sunday morning. I stumbled off to answer it.
There he stood on the step. On the top of his 70 year old head was a pitch black piece of hair. I was surprised.
"Oh! Mr. Toupee!"
It took only seconds for me to realize what I had said. But once I did I SLAMMED the door shut in Mr. K's face.
He rang the bell again.
Once I got my fists out of my teeth, I opened the door, invited him in, called for my roommate and went into my room to huddle upon my bed.
I have NEVER looked him in the eye since.
And, he never wore his toupee again.
Oh My God Paddy.
Remind me to lock the bedroom door.
I was sharing a house with a wonderful flamboyant man in Edmonton during the early 1980s. His parents owned the house and we were renting.
My roommate and I were young, attending university, working in trendy downtown restaurants and partying our faces off.
My friend's father, Mr. K., was bald, but he always wore a hat, so I never really noticed. Well, I guess Mr. K. didn't like to be bald and had always wanted to buy a toupee, but it took him years to work up the nerve.
Then my friend came home after spending Christmas "at home" one year and told me his dad had bought himself a toupee. I quess this was quite the thing and his dad was proud, but somewhat sensitive about the whole affair.
I didn't think much of it, because I couldn't picture his dad without his usual 40s style rim hat and put it out of my mind.
A few weeks later, Mr. K. knocked on our door on a very hungover Sunday morning. I stumbled off to answer it.
There he stood on the step. On the top of his 70 year old head was a pitch black piece of hair. I was surprised.
"Oh! Mr. Toupee!"
It took only seconds for me to realize what I had said. But once I did I SLAMMED the door shut in Mr. K's face.
He rang the bell again.
Once I got my fists out of my teeth, I opened the door, invited him in, called for my roommate and went into my room to huddle upon my bed.
I have NEVER looked him in the eye since.
And, he never wore his toupee again.
Comment