My belms are legion of course, but I guess the most cringe-worthy one was this:

Many, many years ago, I set myself up as an independent computer programmer (difficult, nay impossible to believe now). Specifically, I programmed Casio's range of pocket computers in the 80s, among other manus like Psion and Sharp. I'd written loads of technical and financial services software; for example, my irregular repayment profile compound APR software could handle *any* repayment profile for any term (e.g. have any number of payment holidays, fixed payment balloons or multiple-payment "wild cards" - all within the strict legal accuracy constraints of CCR 1974). Actually, it out-performed that very large finance company's mainframe, in terms of functionality and accuracy, and all within a paltry 32KB of RAM, on a machine that was hardly any larger than a calculator - in 1989. Good old Newtonian iteration.

Anyway, I digress... Casio thought I was the mutts nuts, and I was getting many of their referrals as a 'software house' (i.e. me, a desk, in my gf's spare bedroom, meh). One of these was from a UK engineering company; they wanted me to computerise all of their product selection nomographs/data sheets etc. into a pocket suite package, that they would sell to all of the UK and overseas distributors. The product was headed up by a young, dynamic, flamboyant Commercial Director; we spent months putting the package together which was very complex (or at least I thought so), eventually getting the prototype ready. At this point he seized on it, no doubt envisioning a glory-grabbing career opportunity, even though still only a beta with a few bugs to be sorted out and more rigorous third party testing - arranging for some mega-swanky international presentation, hiring a massive "cottage" (huge country pile) in the middle of nowhere, where all his overseas people and distributors would converge, at great expense, for the official launch.

Of course, this put me under a lot of pressure to get the thing ready; I was only a kid back then and did not have the nous or balls to say 'actually, we're rushing this', plus the ridiculously low fee that I was charging had long since been spent up at my end (important business lesson: if the client only pays for a sow's ear, then a sow's ear he shall have). So, I basically worked right through the night getting the fucking thing licked into shape and polished.

Feeling pleased with myself at the 6am finish, I showered, shaved and got into my best suit, before firing up my Vauxhall Astra and motoring the 110 or so miles to my destination. Upon my arrival I was aghast at the efforts they'd gone to; I was ushered into a huge, smoke-filled meeting room with all manner of presentational equipment and bigwigs present. I did not have long to wait for my moment to come; after a massive "Give it up gentlemen, for a star, a prodigy, a whizzkid programming genius! I shall now hand the stage over; prepare to be Teh Amazed!!!111" etc.

So, very nervously, I got up from my seat, bringing my pilot's case with me, and stepped up to the lectern. I can still remember the burn of lights on my face (having had zero sleep), half-stumbled a "morning gentlemen, thank you for coming from all the corners of the Earth, pleasure to be here" type preamble, before reaching into my case. The air of anticipation was palpable.

As I clicked open the case, I was greeted by the sight of a scale ruler and a tube of mints (XXX Strong if I recall correctly). I'd left the computer, with its proudly finished software at home, on my desk.

... Fuck me; for as long as I live, I shall *never* forget that terrible, burning disbelief and blind panic as I felt that day. How could I have been so utterly stupid? There was a pregnant pause, a couple of coughs.

Totally not knowing what to say (I mean really, what can you say in that situation?), I just blurted "I've left my computer at home". I could've wept lol; I was only a kid of 19-20 afterall. The look on that Special Projects Director's face is also something I'll not forget; if looks could kill, I'd have turned into a pillar of salt right there.

To cut a long story short after that, I basically had to drive a 220-mile round trip back to my house, only to arrive back late afternoon, by which time all the overseas dignitaries had got pissed and not a soul was interested in what I had to say. 'Crestfallen' doesn't even begin to cover it!

Gah! The stuff of nightmares. I wouldn't say I'm an organised person, far from it, but after that day my preparation and final checks for any meeting, presentation, site survey or meeting did at least get a whole lot better!