One of those “I don’t believe I just did that” moments

You know how in life sometimes embarrassing things happen to you – or inexplicably, you do something really stupid and/or commit some horrendous act or faux pas by complete accident – and then, whether it be shortly afterwards or years later, you subsequently find yourself involuntarily ‘revisiting the incident’ in your head at random and highly-unfortunate moments?

I know I do.

Earlier this week I had one that I know will comeback to haunt me because it already has.

I had travelled to the West Country for a funeral of a pal’s parent. I arrived at the church about forty minutes early and took my place in a pew in good time as the attendees began filing in.

Eventually the family concerned turned up in dribs and drabs – some of them I knew, some of them I didn’t. And then my pal and his family materialised and made for their place on the far side of the building. His wife spotted me immediately and came over for a hug.

I could see him in the background, busy with arrangements and such like. A little time passed and then he turned and our eyes met.

It was at that point that instinctively I stood up and raised my hand as if to wave in brief acknowledgement – and found myself giving him what in effect amounted to a perfect replica of a ramrod straight-arm Nazi salute as might have been given by a fanatical member of the Waffen-SS.

I have no idea of where it might have come from. Even as my arm was going up, I could tell what I was about to perpetrate but could do nothing about it.

I sank back into my pew sensing – hopefully erroneously – that the entire congregation had watched my disastrously inappropriate act in a state of dumbfoundment.

I do not mind admitting here that I have relived that moment many times since, sometimes shocked by my own stupidity and sometimes in a state of near-hysterical mirth.

I fear that this is one of those that will remain with me for a considerable time to come.