Skip to content
January 27, 2014 / bekbekbekah

Bekah and the Y Chromosomes

I think the only saving grace with my strange propensity to run into weird situations in life is that I find them to be very humorous instead of just being embarrassed by them. Please take note of the word “just” in that previous sentence though, because I am constantly embarrassed by the things I do and say; it just so happens that I can also find humor in them in some way. One of the main sources of this type of embarrassment is my interactions with the opposite sex. I feel like many people can relate with me on this one. I think I’ve also said this before, but it bears repeating: I don’t even have to be attracted to the person I’m interacting with to make a fool of myself, although if I AM attracted to them it makes things much worse. Apparently there’s just something about the Y chromosome that makes me lose my wits.

When I worked at Global Sleep I always tried to be very upbeat for the patients that called in to request medical records or check on their referral status. A lot of our patients were in the military, and it was a pretty common occurrence for them to have last-minute orders for studies and machines and such because of their deployment schedule. I always tried to be nice to them over the phone and be extra expedient with their requests to try to relieve any stress they might have over the process. One guy called to request that his records be sent to a different doctor than the one we had on file so I told him I could help him but that he had to sign a release form with the other doctor’s information on it. He was asking me questions about how he would receive the form and how he needed to return it to me, and I was trying to let him know that however he wanted to send it back to us was fine. Some people get stressed if they have to fax something back instead of emailing, but our systems were all digital, so faxes and emails alike came into the same inbox on our end. I was trying to explain that to him, but instead of saying something normal like, “Whatever way is easiest for you to return the form will work. I’ll be on the lookout for it and will process it before the other documents,” I said, “You can fax it, scan and email it, or mail it. Heck, you can even send it via carrier pigeon if you wanted.”

Can someone please make carrier pigeons a things again??

Can someone please make carrier pigeons a things again??

His end of the line was quiet for a few seconds after I uttered those words, letting the reality of my statement soak in for both of us, and then he was like, “So I’ll probably just scan it after I sign it and email it back to you, yeah?” After I hung up the phone I looked over at my coworkers that shared the room with me and they were all looking at me with befuddled faces trying to figure out what was going on in my brain. This wasn’t my only embarrassing interaction with this guy though, because when he called back to make sure I had gotten his release form, I told him that I had already processed it and faxed his records to the other doctor because I “knew how important it was for him to get his machine before being deported.” You can read about that story in a previous post of mine.

When I started working for Wood Group Mustang I was super eager to please and to make friends with everyone I met. In the first two weeks of working here I began working on my first safety video that was going to be sent company-wide, and I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. I managed to throw a script together pretty quickly, and then got someone to volunteer as my main actor. I met him the morning of our first shoot together, and I could tell right away that he was going to be really great to work with. This guy looks like Jeremy Renner (my celebrity man crush, runner up only to Charlie Day and Jimmy Fallon) which threw me for a bit of a loop.

Can you blame me?

Can you blame me?

Just look at him in that bowtie!

Ok last one. I promise.

Ok last one. I promise.

But he was also really good in front of the camera. I was really impressed with our first take for our first shot, and I tried telling him in a normal way that I appreciated his time. But again, because he is in possession of a Y chromosome, my mind forgot how to use normal words to create normal sentences, and instead of just thanking him for his time I said, “Thank you SO MUCH for volunteering for this video. I’m sorry I can’t give you a charge code for this, but I could do like maybe a nice steak dinner or something.” I saw his face register my words and immediately regretted them because it sounded like a pick up line, and I had only met the guy 10 minutes prior to that moment. I quickly tried to recover and explain what I meant, but we both just ended up laughing at the absurdity of the moment. A couple months after this incident I ran into him at our company’s anniversary party and he introduced me to his wife who told me, “Oh my God! Adam came home that day and told me how you accidentally asked him out right after meeting him and we laughed so hard about it!” That’s a story I’ll probably never live down with those two, either.

Last November right before Thanksgiving I had dinner with a guy at a British pub in Houston. The night before that dinner I had read a lot of reviews about the place because I wanted to make sure I knew what food to order and what kind of beer would go best with my dish. When I went to sleep, I dreamed that I was having dinner at that pub with Brett Favre and that he was berating me for choosing the restaurant and for ordering the shepherd’s pie and just generally making me feel like a stupid person. When I woke up the next morning I was kind of worried that it was a bad omen about how things would go, but then I remembered that the guy I was eating dinner with was in fact NOT Brett Favre so it was probably going to be just fine. When we were at dinner I told him about the dream and he was like, “Oh, well, sorry I’m not Brett Favre. That would probably be cooler,” and I just replied, “Nah, you’re better company than him.” I thought that was a decent response and mentally patted myself on the back for not saying or doing something weird in the moment. After dinner we went to a nearby coffeehouse for more warm liquids (it was really rainy and cold in Houston at the time), and as he parked on the street I noticed that my side was going to be completely surrounded by a huge puddle. I didn’t want to make mention of it though, because I didn’t want to seem like I was being high maintenance or afraid of water, so I just kept quiet. Once I got out of the car I tried to find a way for me to cross said puddle without having to step in it, but the puddle was almost as wide as his car (ie – too wide for me to step across or even hop safely over) and the entire side of the street was in the same situation. Rather than deliberate needlessly, I just took my shoes off and walked into the puddle. As soon as I stepped into the water my feet sank into the silt at the bottom and I could feel it squeezing its way between my toes. It was also painfully frigid, so I hurried across, washing off what I could with the water on top, but then I was faced with the task of putting my shoes back on in the middle of the street. I managed to get my left foot into its shoe, but as I was working on the right shoe a car turned onto the street and I had to get out of the way. With my right foot only halfway in the shoe I started hobbling out of the way so as not to be hit by the car, then remembered the puddle and started shuffling faster because I didn’t want to get sprayed with water either.

I was wearing a white shirt and wanted to avoid a situation like this.

I was wearing a white shirt and wanted to avoid a situation like this.

As I approached a safe distance, my right foot landed on a broken patch of the road and I lost my balance, rolled my ankle a little, stumbled a few more steps, and had to catch myself on a light pole outside. The guy was completely oblivious to all these happenings, which was fine by me, as I was willing to just forget about it and not make mention of it. Once we got inside and ordered, I realized I wasn’t going to be ok with the grossness of my foot/shoe situation, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom to clean my shoes. The left foot wasn’t too bad; I was able to get most of the mud off with the puddle, but my right foot had more mud because of my stumbling in the road. Once I finished with the right foot I looked at the paper towel and had to do a double take because there was a large bright patch of red on it. I looked down at my foot and saw that during my stumbling in the road I managed to rip about a square inch of skin off my foot and that I was just bleeding into my shoes. I put my shoes back on and requested a band aid from the guy behind the counter, and the guy I was with looked at me and said, “A band aid? What’d you do?” and I was just like, “Oh you know. Just scraped my foot a little while crossing the street,” and left it at that.

God bless the poor man that decides he wants to take part in the life of Bekah Brown..

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: