Embarrassing Moments You Can Now Laugh About

We were posting stories on another messageboard & I figured Dopers have some good ones to share.

Here’s my story:

Our sixth grade class had a really fun approach to history - we’d delve into whatever period we studied, doing projects, creating artifacts, going to museums, writing reports and making presentations.

Of course we studied the Romans.

On one particular day it was my turn to give a speech on some aspect or another of Roman culture. And, in keeping with our “immersion” approach, I was to give this speech in period dress.

Roman - costume - simple, right? Take a sheet, start orating. No sweat.

Well, on the night before, my Mom helped me with my costume - she draped and fussed and pinned. Eventually it hung on me in a somewhat authoritative manner and I was satisfied that the next day would be a snap.

Now, remember, this was before the Internet, when research meant going to the library. Since I’d waited until the last minute there was no time for a library run, so we did our draping without any visual aids. It didn’t occur to either of us that your typical Roman wore a shirt under their sheet.

Nor did we consider that I, working alone, wouldn’t be able to achieve the same draping effect that my Mother had.

Thus I ended up spending the greater part of the following afternoon standing in front of the mirror in the Girls’ bathroom in my underwear, draping and re-draping, pinning and re-pinning. The effect got worse and worse as my hands grew sweaty and grimy. Mr. Van Vorhees, our teacher, kept switching the running order for presenters until, finally, his last emissary informed me I was the only person left.

I gathered up my folds and, by taking tiny steps, managed to get to the front of the classroom where I made my speech. It was well received.

But as I finished, I realized that gravity was not my friend and some of my folds had flopped. If I moved at all, vast swatches of my backside and at least one budding boobie would be revealed to all 22 of my 6th grade classmates, not to mention Mr. Van.

I spotted a chair to my immediate right and managed to slither into it, as the class watched quietly.

Now what?

Well, luckily our school’s floors were linoleum and pretty slick. Clutching what was left of my costume, and keeping my back to the wall, I propelled myself out of the room with my feet. Twenty-three heads turned to watch as I slid past the rows of desks, around the corner, and out the door.

No one said a word.

Well, there was the time in 11th grade I had to give an oral presentation in French about what I would like to be in history. Being a fan of kings and queens and that kind of stuff, I said I wanted to be a courtier. Only, guess what, courtesan is NOT French for that.

Oh, I just went on and on about it, too.

I’m sure I’ve told this story on the boards before:

Our drama class is playing the shoe game, near the end of the hour. How this works is, you pair off in twos–each pair getting a number–and stand on opposite sides of the room, and put a shoe in the middle. When the teacher calls out ‘One’, the two people designated ‘one’ make a mad dash for the shoe and try to bring it back to their side–kind of like a mini-Capture the Flag.

Anyways. I’m standing there, and the teacher calls out ‘Three’, and both of us sprint towards the center. There’s a scuffle and a scramble and everyone’s cheering, and I manage to grab the shoe, and in my excitement (I actually got it!)…

…I flew back, went careening wildly, banged head-first into the cabinets arse over heels, and fell over upside-down. Literally sprawled out on the floor.
Then I was sort of stupefied from shock and hugely red with embarrassment. Now it’s just hilarious. :smiley:

A few years ago, I twisted my knee when I was jogging on a trail. I was icing it a few times a day to keep the swelling down. I would even ice it once or twice a day while at work.

When I was at work, what I would usually do is go into the bathroom since I had to undo my pants to strap the icepack on my knee. But then one day I realized I could just do that in my office since I have a door.

However, my office door does not have a lock. So what I would do is stand with my butt against the door to prevent anyone from opening it while I had my pants down. Great plan, or so I thought.

Then one time there I am putting my icepack around my knee in my office, pants around my ankles, butt against the door, and a co-worker opens the door. No knock, no warning, nothing. I have no balance since I’m leaning over. I can’t move my feet since my pants are around my ankles. I tip foward, slowly, right toward the edge of my desk. I don’t remember hitting the desk, but I woke up a few minutes later, blood streaming down my face from a cut just above my hairline, and several co-workers standing around me. And, my pants are still down around my ankles. Fortunately, I think most of them believed the explanation since some of them knew about my knee already and I had the icepack right there. And a good thing to have the icepack right there. I used it to keep the swelling down on the knot growing on my head.

Well, there was the time that I adopted my most pompous big-brotherly know-it-all pose and argued with my little sister for hours that the fancy chocolates called “truffles” were made with mushrooms…

:o :smack:

Well, hell, since embarrassment is my métier, I guess I’ll just embrace it. In chronological order:

In the 1st grade my “buddy” Jana convinced me to duck-walk to the center of reading circle and back. I spent the rest of the day with my head down on my desk per instructions. The rest of the kids thought it was a hoot.

In the 5th grade, during gym, the class was jumping on a trampoline. By bra-filler (toilet paper, not breasties) elected to make an appearance out of the neck of my Star Wars T-shirt. Again, the class was highly amused. I unsuccessfully tried to pass it off as my stockpile for emergency allergy use.

After that, I can’t remember any incidents until freshman year in high school. More likely a mental block than absence of embarrassing episodes.

Freshman year in high school was a banner year for humiliation. The fist day, some juniors helpfully directed me to the rest room. Sure, it was the boy’s room, but it was the thought that counted, right?

A few weeks of experience left me feeling confident, so I wore a dress to school. Before lunch, while sitting in History class, I was leaning back in my chair indulging in an unauthorized conversation with the student behind me. My chair fell over backward and I inadvertently gave the class a view of my underwear and pantyhose. Witnesses later reported that it was the way my legs kicked in the air that made the guffaw so.

After lunch the same day, I had a much-needed pee. When I exited the bathroom, I noticed my posterior region was enjoying an unaccustomed breeze. GODDAMN it! I plastered by back to the wall and shimmied back to the bathroom to take corrective measures, amidst the unkind laughter of my “friends”.

I’ve got lots more, but I’m feeling a bit out of sorts just now…

Oh, I feel so unkind, but that made me howl!

Drat! This was probably before camera phones got popular! :stuck_out_tongue: