The French teacher, the manky old crone, she's responsible for this. This perpetual reddening.
"Radgykins," she said, "come up here to the top of the class and point out the irregular verbs."
Of course, she didn't call me 'Radgykins' but she did apply the suffix '-kins' to my real world name, rendering me a shade of pink that colours my face to this day at the most inopportune of timings.
It's a fucking liability, especially when beautiful Czech women stop to talk on the subject of their homeland beers.
Her: "You like Budvar? It's great beer, yes?"
Me: "It's a great beer, yes."
Her: "You like Staropramen too?"
Me: "I love Staropramen."
Her: "It is my favourite beer. I like Ruby Leffe too. You like Ruby Leffe?"
Me: "I like it very much."
Her: "You are colour of Ruby Leffe. It's funny, cute Irish boy."
Me: "Ehm... Eh..."
Her: "You take my number, yes?"
I'll stop now before I get further into the realm of fiction.
That fuckin' French teacher.