Faux Pas

Hello everyone,

in another thread dievomdeich shared a lovely little anecdote that made me smile. It was about a sweater with a peekaboo opening at the neckline and an older gentleman who enjoyed it. Just read it for yourselves!

Anyway, while reading her lines, a few embarrassing moments of this kind from my own life immediately came to mind. So I’m starting a new thread here on the topic of “faux pas.” Then we’ll all have something to laugh about. There’s nothing we can do about it now anyway. Will you join in?

By the way, according to Wikipedia, a faux pas is a misstep in the figurative sense, meaning an unintentional breach of unwritten social conventions.

Best wishes, Ina

That reminds me of the first time I met my mother-in-law. We were talking about first names and how many people have a middle name. She told me that her middle name was “Kunigunda,” and I blurted out, “Yeah, yuck!”—and then I probably turned red.
Not exactly ideal for a first meeting with your mother-in-law, right?

Okay, since I started this thread, I guess I’ll have to go first. It’s been soooo long. But you can tell—if I still remember it so clearly today, the situation must have been embarrassing back then.

It was during my apprenticeship as a typewriting technician. I had to rotate through various departments at a machine tool factory. For a few weeks, I also had to work in the personnel department. Personnel departments—that’s what we call HR departments today. Only older, seasoned men and women worked there, people who’d been there for years. They were all dressed appropriately: the men in suits, the women never in pants and always in skirt suits. And never in flashy colors, never with too much makeup, and certainly never with eye-catching earrings—everything was rather understated, unobtrusive, dignified, and conservative.

At any rate, that’s how I perceived it all back then. You’d enter the personnel department with a sense of awe. I was still very young, after all, and no one had told me that I had to fit in. It was summer, and on my first day of work, I ended up wearing a short miniskirt and red heeled sandals. The skirt had a sporty cut, buttoned in the front, and had pockets in the front and back. I paired it with a matching sleeveless blouse and those red sandals. I really could wear that back then!!!

But just not in the personnel department. I went to work like a good girl and sat down at my desk. Word of “my outfit” spread like wildfire among my coworkers, and everyone came over to look at me. Our department head even asked me to stand up and seemed delighted by the sight. But I wasn’t allowed to work dressed like that. I had to stay seated behind my desk all day. An older coworker took me aside in a motherly way and said, “Ina, you can’t come to work like that” :-(

We had a lot of visitors—mainly men from production—who would have liked it, but it just didn’t conform to the “unwritten rules of conduct.”

It was pretty embarrassing. And yet, later on, I was glad that I was still young and could wear that kind of thing. Just not there. From that day on, I was always dressed appropriately.

Well, have you guys had any embarrassing moments like that, too?

Best regards, Ina

Oh Ruth, that was quite the blunder! But luckily, you ended up becoming her daughter-in-law after all :-)

Oh yeah, back in 1966, I went to our home economics school in the winter wearing a pair of leather jeans that I’d gotten from my boyfriend—or rather, fiancé—at the time. Back then, people were still very conservative, and a girl in pants—let alone leather ones—was a social no-go. :-) It was winter, after all, and the pants were warm; I even wore them on my scooter, so I was always bundled up warmly. The principal called me into her office and asked what that outfit was all about; she said I should come to school dressed appropriately for the occasion because we’re not a biker bar. I had to go home to get dressed *properly*.
I’d gotten engaged back then while I was still in school, and my parents had given us their blessing. When I went to school the next day, I was wearing my ring, of course. Our art teacher saw it and asked me what kind of ring it was. Cheeky as ever, I told her, “If you don’t know, then I’m truly sorry.” Off I went back to the principal’s office to listen to another lecture.
Okay, today I know it was way too early for me, but back then I was really blinded by love—or what I thought was love at 15 or 16.

Best regards, Inge

Your stories are kind of cute.

Well then, I’ll jump in here too. I think each of us has put our foot in it at least once.

My husband and I actually met online. For a while, we could only Skype via the computer. He was already in Norway, and I was still in Germany. We were basically “living” together every day, but the computer was in the way, and he was far away. Everything always looks a little distorted on the screen anyway.

Anyway, the time finally came when he could visit me. The big day arrived, and there he was, standing right at my door. What a joy.
Instead of saying, “Yay, I’m so glad you’re here,”… no… I said, “Wow, you’re really short.”

It just slipped out in that moment—so embarrassing. Even though my husband is 11 cm taller than I am. Every now and then, I still get teasingly reminded of it. It was embarrassing back then. Today, we can both laugh about it.

That’s how it goes sometimes.

Best regards
Andrea

Dear Ina,
that was a great idea, starting this new thread!

The sequel to my first story about the “peephole” wasn’t so funny for my sleazy coworker in the end. He was such a groper and practically had his nose buried in his female coworkers’ necklines. I’d just given him a talking-to about “peeking through the peephole” when he offered to let me borrow something from his porn collection. That backfired, to say the least, because the boss was standing right behind him and had heard the whole thing. From then on, my colleague could go back to spending the whole day with his porn collection, and we were left in peace.

During a school trip (7th grade), besides my homeroom teacher, my hated gym teacher—of all people—was there as a chaperone. She couldn’t stand me either. We were sitting together in a group and talking about where we bought our milk. My grandma had a farm where I used to help out a lot. Of course, that’s where we got our milk. So I said, “We get our milk straight from my grandma”… Everyone burst out laughing. The teacher, of course, hadn’t been listening and asked her colleague why everyone was laughing. He told her. Her comment: “So your grandma gives milk? How stupid is that?”
I wish the ground had opened up so I could crawl inside.

Best regards, Marlies

All right, if it’s time to make a fool of myself, I’m ready too.
We spend a lot of time in France, often in the same place, and there we have not only friends but also our favorite local spots.
One evening in a larger, friendly group, we headed to the restaurant; the table wasn’t ready yet, so we had our first drink and a few pizza-like appetizers at the bar.
There was a man standing there all by himself with a glass of wine, and after a while I spoke to him and offered him some of our appetizers. He politely declined.
Me: “They’re really good, though—you should definitely try one.”
Him: “Thanks, I’m already familiar with them.”
Me: “Oh, have you been here before?”
Him: “Yes, I own the place.”
*I wanted the ground to swallow me up*

In the mid-90s, there was the RTL comedy show “Samstag Nacht.” It was a huge hit back then—skits that were either cheeky or downright silly. One evening, I was fascinated by a skit featuring Mirco Nontchew, and I was determined to use it at some point. The next morning, the department head walked into the office—a very well-groomed but also vain man. The sketch popped into my head on the spot—my victim was found.
“Good morning, Mr. B! Has anyone told you today that you look good?”
He, totally perplexed, ran his fingers through his hair, flushed a little, and said breathlessly, “Uh… no.”
“Well, then no one has lied to you today either.”
.....
I’d imagined it so perfectly—how I’d then burst out laughing—but I saw how the poor man practically crumbled inside, and it was sooo embarrassing. And even today, after all these years, I’m still sooo sorry that, at barely 20, I thought that could somehow be funny. I apologized to him later and explained that I’d been trying to imitate the sketch, but the hurt ran deep for him. 

Oh man, Anja, I can totally relate to that. You’re just young and thoughtless. You could’ve scored some points with him if you’d just asked the question without answering it.

veronika-t15 - That’s obviously a very embarrassing story, too. And I’m sure he’s told it many times.

Marlies - Your “milk grandma” story almost qualifies as bullying toward students. She just didn’t like you and wanted to take it the wrong way. As a kid, you just blurt things out so innocently—adults shouldn’t want to misinterpret that! Especially as a teacher—she’s supposed to be a role model.

Andrea - Yeah, I can totally relate to that. You’re exchanging messages with someone and forming these ideas in your head. And then in real life—in the dimly lit hallway—comes the reality check. It was just on the tip of your tongue. Today your husband knows that you’re just that direct and straightforward. And you’re happily married—so it all worked out in the end.

Inge—We could all relate to your situation at vocational school. Blinded by love and proud of your boyfriend’s leather jeans—you practically floated to school—and then the “teaching staff’s” radical reaction. You just had to conform to the norm. When you think about what’s acceptable today and how it doesn’t bother anyone. Back then, people just weren’t that tolerant.

Thank you so much for your posts :-)