gor[b] Paul Gorbould: Words and Pictures

Foot in mouth

I managed one of the great verbal gaffes of the holidays on Christmas Eve.

We were opening presents with my in-laws. My brother-in-law gave us some new king size pillows, a welcomed gift since we recently bought a couple of sets of bedding without buying anything to put in the new pillow cases or shams.

My wife and I were debating whether to put the new pillows in the cases or shams, and which set. My domestic prowess made my father-in-law chuckle, prompting me to explain:

Until I married your daughter, I didn’t know the meaning of the word “sham”.

Ahem.

That’s a pretty bad (and completely accidental) double entendre, but it pales in comparison to two other blunders I’ve been privy to. For some reason, both are race-related, though not in a Michael Richards/Mel Gibson sort of way. These were just very poorly chosen words.

1) At a party a few summers ago, a friend was telling the group about a great bit of music she had heard that day down at Harborfront. It was performed by an Andean busker, who played panpipes and had brightly-coloured marionettes on a string from his foot, which he moved to make them dance about to the music. But she’d had a few drinks, and what she said to the group was how much she enjoyed “those dancing coloured people.”

2) Friend of a coworker, in South Africa. He’d taken several rolls of film on his trip, and couldn’t wait to get back to Canada to have them developed. Of course, he told the mixed crowd, he wanted to get them developed properly, at a trustworthy photo place. “So you can bet I won’t take them to Black’s!”

Again, these were not racially-motivated – they simply came out wrong. No knock on the poor sods who spoke them (and were both met with deathly, bewildered silence.) Also no knock on Black’s Photography or Andean buskers – I enjoy both. Still, they make me feel less bad about my own “sham”.

So, dare to own up to your own worst-ever gaffes?