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marc
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Needs to get a life! |
Registered: March 2003
Messages: 4729
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Not any word, the right word...
Heres the scenerio....
A young gay boy is having to solicit a girl to act as a blind for him at an upcoming social event...
He is at the threshold of her dormatory building, having just opened the door... he sees several small groups of girls sitting in a large common room/lobby and as he stands there all eyes turn to him...
I need the word that best describes his feelings/mindset/fears/emotions as he stands in this so foreign a place?????????????
Please only serious answers....
Life is great for me... Most of the time... But then I meet people online... Very few are real friends... Many say they are but know nothing of what it means... Some say they are, but are so shallow...
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13796
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Perplexed, out of place, a sojourner in a strange land (literary allusion, that)
[Updated on: Tue, 20 May 2008 17:34]
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Mortified
aqua
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. Washington Irving
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Dear Marc,
I like Aqualino's 'mortified'. My first job was with A C Nielen Co (marketing research) - head office in Chicago, but I worked in Oxford, England. I was a young closeted Oxford graduate, doing a week's training in each department. I was to help program one of the first IBM computers in Europe (old man Watson and old man Nielsen lived next door to each other, so Nielsen's bought old man Watson's computers). But before the computer the figures were added by rooms full of girls operating comptometers (which were adding machines).
So, for a week, I was required to sit at a desk facing this huge room full of girls and women who were all operating these gadgets. It was a fairly mindless task and girls, being girls, talked and didn't bother to hide the fact they (well some of them) thought I was cute. Just going to work those mornings was acutely embarrassing and half the day I was blushing at the things they said. Even the manager couldn't stand it - he had a separate office with a door he could shut so was hidden from them most of the time. If I remember right his name was Dennis Axford and he certainly knew the torture it was for me - but of course not that I was gay.
I only had one other similar experience - when I worked for LRI (the old London Rubber Company - manufacturers of Durex condoms). I was 'Management Services Manager' there for two years. The machine that did the 'electronic testing' of the condoms was an endless belt a bit like machine gun ammunition, over a hundred yards long, of oversized aluminium penises and a dozen or so women 'loaded' them by putting a condom on every twelfth penis. It took a knack to do it as the condoms weren't rolled up. They were picked up with four fingers in the opening and then in a swift movement put over the aluminium former. The first part of the movement filled the condom with air and the rest of the movement used the air to expand the condom so that it would slide easily and tightly to fit over the aluminium. I think the aluminium was sintered so slightly porous and the air could then leak out. Then the aluminium formers were rotated to point down instead of up and lowered into a trough of electolyte and various electric voltages were applied to electrolyte and former and if any circuit was made that condom was rejected. The good ones were taken off the formers by rolling them - and that was done by a machine.
The women that did this job were the least inhibited and most foul-mouthed group I ever encountered in my long working life!
Anyway my words are 'acutely embarrassing' but Aqualino's 'mortified' is also perfect for what I felt.
Love,
Anthony
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marc
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Needs to get a life! |
Registered: March 2003
Messages: 4729
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A small excerpt of the text shows how the problem was solved.........
I stomped the little bit of snow off my feet and noticed that every girl in the room was looking at me I pushed the door closed behind me and all of a sudden I felt like a mouse that wandered into a snake pit.
Thanks for the ideas, both here and from a few emails......
Marc
Life is great for me... Most of the time... But then I meet people online... Very few are real friends... Many say they are but know nothing of what it means... Some say they are, but are so shallow...
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Marc, you're welcome
aqua
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. Washington Irving
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