What embarassing things have you done for those you love?

In My Humble Opinion
1

Last year for my birthday (Dec. 2004), my mother made me two shirts on her sewing machine. She was very proud of them. One is green, the other a dark gray blue. The green one is collarless and the other one makes up for it with a great big collar. Both have sleeves the width of MC HAMMER’S pant legs. Both have drawstring necks that go down to the bottom of the sternum. Both are made from costume patterns for Ren Faire type outtings.

“You always said how much you like those 18th century sleeves and this was as close as I could find…”

It’s true, I did make a comment similar to that one. I’ve also said that I thought thobes looked comfortable, but I never particularly wanted to put one on to go to Waffle House. And as if to make this outfit a little less palatable, for the drawstring neck she used a shiny synthetic rope, the one thing that kept them from being the gayest thing I own (no gay guy would ever wear any type of rope other than knotted hemp on a pirate shirt, which in turn they would only wear to a costume party).

I somehow managed to “forget” to ever wear them for more than a year and also constantly forgot to take them home with me whenever I left her house. Finally after a year it caught up with me and she basically cornered me on the subject.
Last week I went to lunch with a friend of mine, a wonderful lady born and raised in Rome, and my mother said “She’s Italian and they’re artsy and love cutting edge fashion- I bet she’d like your shirt!”

I maintained it was a bit hot for long sleeves of any kind (which it was- January 2 in Montgomery was 81 degrees F), let alone for a material that would make great clipper ship sails, though I didn’t add the last part.

“Oh well…”

Oh no.

“I guess you just don’t like them… well, I’ll admit I’m not a good seamstress, but there is love in them… but I guess I understand you’re afraid people will mock you…”. Her internal monologue commences singing Dolly Parton’s Coat of Many Colors to her, only with images of the girl tearing up the coat in exchange for a Banana Republic sailor number, while I, thankful that I’ve never complimented Greek folk dancing costumes in her presence, don the weirdest and hottest shirt in Montgomery that day. I almost make it out of the house before she says “Wait honey… you don’t wanna go out with your neck string untied!” and ties it into a knot that provide a noose for a good sized rabbit.

This shirt breathes about as well as Darth Vader unplugged and in a smoke filled nightclub, it’s either gray or dark blue or dark grey or somehow purple depending on the light source, it has sleeves that could be used to smuggle mattresses and I just thank God she never thought how well it would look with a big red Zouave sash. It’s sorta kinda Siberian peasant meets synthetic rabbit noose rope and I have a fuller beard than usual so I asked the hostess “Party of two… the last name is Rasputin” when I see my friend Anna, who looks at it and says charmingly “Thaht shirt… or blouse… eeit ees… very interesting…”. After hearing the story she said “Well, you have worked decades off of your time in Purrrgatory…” and later “…actually, most people could never wear that shirt because its personality would overwhelm them, but strangely it somehow works for you… your own personality keeps it in check…”. That’s why I tell myself that the looks I got all day until I went home and took it off (now sweat drenched because it was hot as hell material and LOTS AND LOTS OF IT on an unseasonably hot January day were actually for my personality.

Anyway, that’s my most recent public embarassment undertaken out of love and guilt. Other things I’ve done in the past are wearing the most godawful smelling .50 cologne you can imagine (it was a gift from a retarded guy I worked with to whom .50 meant he had to do without a Coke one day), a bizarre Book of Kells inspired really wide tie from an aunt who thought it’d be “wonderful if you wear it to dinner when you come ovah next week” and a “Honk if You Love Jesus” bumper sticker from another retarded client (who luckily didn’t notice when I removed it later).

What have you done that’s publicly embarassing to avoid hurting the feelings of those you love, care about and or fear?

2

Tee hee hee - that’s great, I’ve had to wear ugly gifts from relatives before but nothing quite that bad. I did just have to be in my boyfriend’s (who’s an amateur filmmaker) new movie. Or TV show, really. You can see clips from Season 1 of Buddy Cop Show at www.prettypennyproductions.com. This is Season 2. Did I mention how much I hate cameras? And how bad I look on film? I covered my eyes with my hands when we watched the dailies. If I hadn’t been out of town for my grandfather’s funeral, I would have had to appear in a bathing suit on Thursday for this. I don’t want to seem like I’m happy Grandpa died or anything, but… one last gift from the man. :slight_smile:

3

Pics please, Sampiro.

4

I used to clip my husband’s toenails. It was self-preservation more than anything.

5

You just cannot go describing such things Sampiro without posting pics of yourself wearing it so we can [del]ridicule[/del] admire it. It’s just not done.

When I was in college my mother bought me this rayon green with gold swirly things all over it shirt because according to her it was the latest in young men’s fashions. Well, for young men who want to get beat up in public, I guess it was. I wore that shirt several times just for her. It was kinda embarrassing, yes, but it was worth it because of what it caused my next to oldest brother to say about it. I was wearing it at mom and dad’s house one day when he was there. He said, “What’s up with the ugly ass shirt” right in front of mom. :eek: I calmly replied that mom had bought it and given it to me for my birthday. Needless to say I was the good son for quite some time after that. :smiley:

6

Let’s see.

When I was very young, going to the store to buy Kotex for my mother.

As an adult, going to the store to buy Tampax for my wife and going to the pharmacy to pick up my brother’s Viagra prescription.

All I can think of at the moment.

7

Sorry. :smack: That should have been Cialis. (sp?)

8

changes the level of embarassment how?

quick question?

is your brother immobile? and if not , how did you get wrangled up into that?

9

It’s most commonly spelled “c1@|_1$”.

10

Is this sorta like what you’re talking about

Ralphy in the Bunny Suit

11

Sampiro, this is just the kind of thread I needed today. It’s been a rough week. Here’s my contribution cracks knuckles:

My dear mother. How I love her so. So neurotic and lovable. Very sweet lady. She needed me to help her finish a float for the annual parade. Her warehouse always had a float in the parade. I worked there sometimes, but didn’t often participate in the parade, though I did often help out behind the scenes.

Just her and I, in a darkened warehouse, pinning guady tissue flowers to some god-forsaken trailer, having some fun. The theme was the Wizard of Oz. She was Glinda, the White Witch. As we worked, we turned on the radio, tried on some of the costumes, and had a great time. She decided to pop in the tape she had of songs from the Wizard of Oz, to get in the “mood” for the next day, I guess. We got silly. We threw stuff at each other. We pinned flowers to each other. We made a mess.

At some point, she screamed, thinking she’d seen a bat. She tied one of the work aprons around her head. She encouraged me to do so, though I wasn’t afraid. Well, except of maybe lice, but it wasn’t coming near us. Eventually she coaxed me into tying an apron around my head, as well, to save my “beautiful hair”. Sigh.

Suddenly, we heard a heavy door slam at the other end of the warehouse, and my mother yelped: “Oh, God! That’s my boss! He can’t see me like this!” I glanced over at her wide eyes, her face covered in glitter and bits of yellow tissue, her huge floppy white witch hat on covering her apron-wrapped hair, covered in flowers and looking a little… unprofessional. She leapt with the litheness of a crocodile from the back of the trailer, and knocked over a pinata full of candy that was to be used in festivities after the parade. With surprising new agility, she slipped between several pallets and was gone.

I turn toward the footsteps, standing, wearing the bottom half of the lion’s costume, flowers stuck to me, my apron tied over my head, glue and glitter on my face, with M&Ms still rolling between my feet, and the munchkins sang in the background, “We’re off to see the wizard! The wonderful wizard of oz!”

And out of the shadows stepped…

*My * boss. :smack: I had recently been hired to operate a million dollar piece of equipment. This was sure to instill confidence in his decision.

He stopped, gaping at me. My mother was nowhere in sight. As far as he knew, I was all alone.

He stared.

I lifted my chin, and then said to him the same words I said to the constructions workers who’d once caught a glimpse of me stepping out of the shower, naked, through my bathroom window, just before I drew the blinds shut tight:

“I am not ashamed!”

There was a few seconds silence… my boss nodded at me slowly, then turned around and walked away.

I still haven’t quite lived that one down. No one believes me that my mother was hiding in the pallets. Laughing.

12

When I was a senior in high school, my girlfriend got me a nice sweater from Structure, which on a high school budget in '96 was a BIG DEAL. I actually really liked it - it was super-fashionable and comfortable at the same time - but it was about two sizes too large. I tried in my nicest way to tell her this, but there was no convincing her. “It looks fine!” “You’re just being paranoid!” etc. She seemed to take my insistence that it was too large as some sort of personal rebuff.

I wore it in public once, with her, and I felt like i might as well be wearing clown shoes the whole time. I mean, this thing was about twice as wide as I was and came down almost to my knees - really horrifying.

I eventually stuck to just wearing it around the house. When I later told my friend the story, he replied, “Are you kidding? I always thought that was one of your Dad’s (who had about a foot and a half and 100 lbs on me) old shirts that you just wore around the house because it was comfortable!”

13

Naw, not at all, he’s just easily embarassed. It didn’t bother me all that much as it was a different pharmacy than mine, I just went there and asked to pick up the prescription for LiveOnAPlane_Kid_Brother.

He, on the other hand, is so quickly and so much more embarassed than I, it seemed like a small thing, really.

But thankx fer asking.

14

Person 1: I’ve done crazier stuff than that for a girl before.

Person 2: Like what?

Person 1: One time I ran naked through a subway station.

Person 2: How was that supposed to work?

Person 1: I guess I didn’t really think it through.

15

I want that shirt.

And, I’ve done nothing embarassing, certainly by not wearing anything hideous. Just today, I wore the Gay Cowboy purple/red satin with black embroidered cowboy shirt mi madre got me for Christmas, along with the cowboy tie/tassle thing. I suppose I just don’t get embarassed easily.

16

Just for the record, I think you are the sweetest thang EVER for wearing the shirt, cologne, tie, and bumper sticker. Especially the bumper sticker. :wink:

Mrs. Furthur

17

One of the [del]best[/del] most unfortunate things about having a dog is that sometimes they get hold of a lovely item of clothing you’ve received as a gift, and they just tear it to shreds.
You should never, for example, pour gravy all over a shirt your Mom gave you, because that would just encourage the dog.

18

Anastasaeon, your mother, knowing it was your boss, stayed in hiding laughing the whole time? BWAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA I love your mother.

laina_f I’m sure you were just devastated! :stuck_out_tongue:

19

Many years ago, I had a good friend who came to realize that she was a lesbian. Unfortunately, she was a very shy lesbian. She really wanted an Out magazine, but she couldn’t bring herself to purchase one. So, good friend that I am, I went to Barnes & Noble one day and bought the magazine for her.

Wouldn’t you know it, I ended up at the register staffed by the cutest, femalest checker in the place. Wonderful. “Um…it’s not for me.” “Suuuuure.”

20

How about someone you thought you loved? Many years ago I became smitten with a cute blonde new hire. We ate lunch together and I would finish my work and go help her with finish her jobs. At the time I drove race cars at a local track and she told me her father and brother liked to go watch the races. She said that she would go with them the next Saturday night to watch me race. That Saturday morning I painted a heart on the side of the car with her name in it with the hopes she would see it. I was thinking it would be a perfect way to take our relationship to the next level. After the races the pits are open to the fans and I waited to see if she would come over to look at my car but she didn’t. Monday morning when she came into the break area she said she went to the races but she didn’t know which car I was driving, it was too noisy to hear the announcer. Then she dropped the bombshell. She said her fiance (who was never mentioned in any conversation prior to that time) was also there. I said I had car problems and didn’t race then went off to be by myself. Not only did I almost make a fool of myself I also had a pretty good night at the track and could brag about it to her.