Embarrassing moments 2

 

 

 During my time in the Financial Services, I worked for a major financial services Company in the late 1980’s who had two offices in Glasgow.  I was classed as a trainee manager and consequently had my own little office where I could interview prospective new financial advisers and keep up with my own clients.  I telephoned this existing, and I hasten to add, valued client, and as the phone rang, I leaned down to my case on the floor whilst I waited for an answer.  Now when you lean down from a chair to floor level your breathing changes, becomes heavier, at least mine did.  As I retrieved the necessary document from my case, I heard a female voice shouting “Pervert!” on the phone, followed by a loud slam as my client’s receiver was replaced in anger.  I hadn’t realised until then that my breathing certainly was a lot heavier and of course I hadn’t heard them answering the phone until it was too late.  The only saving grace was that it was before the days of being able to check and see who your last caller had been.  Needless to say, I didn’t have the nerve to phone back and tell them it was me.

 

I became the Chairman of the West Lothian Advocacy Project.  This was a small volunteer organisation which provided a volunteer spokesperson for someone who couldn’t speak up for themselves, someone who had some form of disability.  When I started, I believe I was the first advocate, the middle aged person who I was to help became a friend as well as a “client”.  His Mother who lived to a very good age sadly died and my “client” as you would expect was very upset.  The day of the funeral arrived, I and some of my colleagues from the project were going to attend and give our respects.  I had received the details from my client, including time and location, fortunately the service was to be in the same small town as the project was based in.  We met at the project office then as one we rushed down on foot the undertakers for the service.  Time was of the essence as we were cutting things rather fine in getting to the service before it began.  Out of breath but on time we arrived at the undertakers only to discover that we had arrived at the wrong funeral, my client’s information had been less than effective.  Everything then became farcical as we raced on foot in our funeral best to the other side of the small town where the service, we should have been attending was taking place.  We arrived outside and out of breath, late but determined to attend.  In we went only to discover, horror of horrors, that the person taking the service had their backs to us as we entered, no discreet entry as we had to file into the small hall in front of all the mourners, mid service!