I went to the store to but a new pair of pants. I tried several on before I found a pair that fit right. I then take that pair and fold it on top of the pile of the clothes that I didn’t want and head to the register. As the cute department store girl is sorting though the stack of clothes I don’t want she holds up the pants that I wore in. I look down in my horror to find that I am not wearing any pants. I grab the pants and quickly put them on while awkwardly smiling and saying “Uh, yeah I might need those.”
She just smiled I don’t think she could see my leopard print undies from behind the counter, but everyone in the mall that walked by the store could. Eek.
Then there was the time when I was a teenager and I worked in a gas station as a pump attendant. This [del]jerk[/del] customer came in in a VW microbus on his way to a wedding. He stood right next to the filler cap, which is about 4’ high, talking to me about nothing in particular.
During the operation, the tank burped, as they often do, and the strange topography of the VW piping vomited about a pint of gasoline all down his very expensive rented suit.
He ranted: “you stupid bloody idiot!”
I said “sir, were this a five-star hotel, I would tell you to send me the bill for dry clieaning. Unfortunately we’re not, so I can only extend my apologies.”
He drove off in a stink - in both meanings of the word. I only hope he didn’t smoke all night.
Yesterday, a couple of friends and I were horsing around on the roof of the apartment building where one of them lives and then the residents of the uppermost floor came up (visibly pissed) and told us to knock that shit off. It really hadn’t occured to us that people underneath would hear us. To make things even better, the moment they came up and saw us was when my friend was pushing me on an abandoned tricycle. :smack:
I have to keep the salt in a completely different part of the kitchen now, after accidentally spooning two teaspoons worth of it into my morning coffee, having mistaken it for sugar. :eek:
But in this case, the stain will gets worse (bigger) with time. If you tell someone when the stain is the size of a quarter, they may able to do something about it before it becomes dinner-plate sized.
I don’t embarrass easily. If I fall down, I get up and do a buck-and-wing. If I stumble over a word, I say, “Yah, me talk good,” and keep going. The only moments I find excruciating are when I failed to think of something that could have saved me a lot of grief, when I hurt or potentially hurt someone, or when the mishap is a major inconvenience that can’t be recovered from.
First category: Like Queen Tonya, I have a skirt that I have not worn for many years. It’s red-and-white houndstooth. It’s really cute, actually; perhaps I should revive it.
Second category: New job (so many of these moments happen on a new job) with two managers, Jimmy and Judy. Phone rings; voice asks for co-worker. “It’s Judy,” I say. Co-worker takes the call, then hangs up and says, “That wasn’t Judy; it was Jimmy.”
Third category. At a friend’s apartment. I was crushing on her roommate. Also wearing my black silk trousers. Get caught on a spring. Rrrrrip! Friend lent me a skirt, but she was about six sizes longer than I was. And the trousers were done for…
Sheesh, mine’s not so bad as some of these, but I was reminded of it by the OP:
This last winter, I wore a turtleneck sweater to work one day. I hadn’t worn it in a long time, and soon remembered why. The scratchy neck was soon driving me crazy. Finally I tucked a Kleenex into it to keep my skin from being rubbed completely off.
After work, I went to the grocery store and had a nice friendly chat with the checker and bag boy. I noticed they both had big smiles, and thought to myself how cheerful they were.
When I got home, my husband gave me a strange look and asked, “Why are you wearing a bib?” Of course, my stupid Kleenex was hanging out.
Concerning the OP - not something that happened to me, but something I witnessed. And very funny it was, in an uncomfortable sort of way.
It was decades ago now, back when I was in high school. I was hanging out with a gang of friends (several of whom were very pretty girls) in a coffee-shop near our school, when this very impressive looking young dude rides up on a gleaming motorcycle. He was wearing an all black leather outfit, and a shiny black helmet - basically a young rocker’s dream outfit, but one no actual high-school kid could reasonably afford. Naturally, us guys were all envious!
Anyway, the fellow comes in basically to chat up the lady behind the counter, and then hit the can. On his way out, he decides to put on a show I guess meant for the pretty girls in the place and said lady - he strikes a pose and revs his motorcycle.
Only, the show was somewhat spoiled by the fact he had about three feet of toilet paper hanging out of his leather pant leg.
Now, the situation was so horribly embarrasing that we couldn’t even laugh - here he was, the centre of attention, with toilet paper hanging out of his pants - we were all wincing on his behalf; as teens, the pain of such social embarrasment is just too acute, you feel it even at second hand. Finally, one of the girls walked up to him and let him know.
I dunno what he was thinking when the girl walked up to him - I suppose he must have been wondering if he was about to get a date; to be told instead “you have toilet paper hanging out of your pants” must have been a nasty blow.
Oh, something like that happened to Fergie, only it was caught in a photo. I can never see her in a video without thinking, “Wow, she wee’ed and someone took a picture of it!”
See, it could have been worse. Your hostess could have photos.
I was embarrassed second-hand, since this happed with Hallboy.
Hallboy was about three months old and we were visiting my mom (who hadn’t seen him since he was born). We were in Boscovs, shopping, my mom holding Hallboy when he suddenly exploded–he was a breastfed baby and when they go, they GO. Poop leeked out his diaper and since it was summer and he had on a cute little onesy, it leeked out his clothes and onto my mother. She was literally covered in baby poop, as it happened pretty darn quick–faster than she could get the lightweight blanket we had in the stroller, or the baby wipes, or anything else. She’s standing in Boscovs Department store, with a handful of very messy baby poop and a horribly disgusting (and stinky) baby.
We (the Hallgirls and I) just froze, horrified (he’d NEVER done this before) and tried to clean it up as best we could. However, when my mom went to pay for the pants she was going to buy, the clerk said, picking at a tiny dark spot on the pants, “Oh, these pants have something on them!” We realized it was a smear of poop we had overlooked.
We were at a doctor friend’s St. Helena winery for the opening of the first pressing. Beautiful place, beautiful people, lots of wonderful wine flowing, etc. I reached into my pocket, grabbed my sunglasses and without looking at them put them on. Did I mention lots of wonderful wine flowing? One of the lenses in my glasses was gone. I was walking around wearing sunglasses missing a lens. They weren’t sunglasses, they were a sunglass. Finally a friend was kind enough to come up and laugh in my face.
I remember when I was in high school, a rather shy girl was wearing what was clearly a new pink dress with a full, swirly-style skirt.
She had bled through it sometime early in the day, and apparently couldn’t go home to change. She spent the entire day holding the skirt with the stained portion in her hand. She was trying to do it casually, you know, tra la, but since of course the stained part was in the back, she had to pull the skirt off center to hold it that way.
I knew immediately why she was holding it that way. I expect everyone knew.
I said nothing and pretended I didn’t notice anything. I sincerely hope everyone pretendend that they didn’t notice anything, but this was high school. Someone probably said something cruel.
cue intro music woman returning to work after maternity leave. Dresses all pretty in a fabulous linen khaki skirt, fabulous pair of boots, is rockin’ it. Note: Said mother stopped breast feeding 3 days prior
I’m on my way into the poker room with about 300 people in it, feeling all sassy. I stop to talk to a coworker who’s wife had a baby a month after me. He points out that I am bleeding all over my skirt. Like a stuck pig. I run to my girlfriends house, don a pair of her sweatpants and pray that the deluge stops and the stains come out.
I had no idea that when your period starts back up again that you practically need a transfusion. It was insane. And I was so horrified at what almost happened.
Or I could tell you about the office manager that hated me that pushed me into a pool at the christmas party. I handled it with so much class that she ended up looking like the complete bitch that she was. I crawled out of the pool, took a towel that was offered, dried my nice clothes as much as I could, made a few jokes about it and went home.
I know this one sounds UL-ish, and it may be, especially since it involves a FOAF, but my friend swears it happened to him.
Friend and FOAF were on a double date at the movie theater. After getting their seats, they left their dates and went out to get some popcorn and drinks. Coming back into the theater, friend whispers to FOAF that his zipper is undone.
FOAF has both hands full and cannot do anything about it, so they return to their seats. He hands the popcorn and drinks to his date, and before sitting down he discretely fixes the zipper problem.
As he sits down, the girl directly in front of his seat has her head violently jerked back, as her long hair is caught in the zipper. After trying for about 5 minutes to get unstuck, they finally have to make their way to the aisle and out of the theater with the girl stooping over as she walks, followed by her irate BF. In the lobby they finally locate a pair of scissors, and all three couples leave in embarrassment.
Same, except it was at work, and my boss was the one who told me. Thank god I worked for a woman at the time. I still think I started looking for another job partly out of shame.
The one that still makes me cringe is my friend told about her sister meeting her in-laws for the first time and bleeding through her pants into their couch.
:eek: And he probably wasn’t fazed at all, right? They get that placid look on their face when they’ve just blown out the whole back of their outfit.
When I was in high school I worked as a bank teller and our branch had some kind of fancy coin rolling machine that we would use when our trays got too full. I was in the back room rolling coins when a lock of my waist-length hair got caught in the mechanism. Before I could shut it off it had dragged my head all the way down to the machine. I couldn’t get it to roll backwards, so I had to very quietly try to summon one of my coworkers for help, so none of the customers would know what happened. We ended up having to cut it off and I still had a little bald spot for a while. Fortunately it was it a relativey hidden spot.
And he probably wasn’t fazed at all, right? They get that placid look on their face when they’ve just blown out the whole back of their outfit.