This happened to a friend of mine, who I’ll call Ned, about a year a half ago at a frat party with myself and another friend (“Chuck”). It was his first time drunk, and he was all over the place. After a while, Chuck and I decided it was probably best that we drag him out of there before he could have any more beers, so we go to the bus stop to wait for our ride back. At the stop, Ned starts talking to this girl who turned out to be from Germany. He then starts asking these questions about what Germany’s like as though it hasn’t changed since Caesar Augustus was emperor. Questions like, “Do people live in grass huts in Germany?” and “Is it true they don’t shower there?” Chuck and I spent the rest of the wait trying to keep Ned, who was now wandering around talking to other people, to keep from doing anything too stupid, as well as repeatedly apologizing to poor German Girl, who seemed seriously weirded out by the experience.
When we discuss that night, Ned swears he doesn’t remember any of it happening, but he’d probably be pretty embarrassed if he did. (It was much funnier than my description makes it sound.)
I was working for a mid-sized paper in a Western state as a sports writer, and I had been assigned to cover a high school basketball game at a near by school. The girls played first then the boys played, apparently while members of the girls’ team showered, dressed in street clothes and came out (sometime in the second period or so) to watch the rest of the boys’ game.
Early on in the boys’ game, a game that had promised to be a pretty boring contest, from a door beneath one of the baskets out walked two naked girls. Well, one had a towel around her waist and the other had one over her shoulder. Apparently they were members of the visiting team and they took a wrong turn in the unfamiliar lockerroom while returning to the place they had undressed before taking their showers.
It was one of those moments when time itself seemes to stop. The crowd inhaled as one, and stared. The girls froze, apparently believeing it was merely a bad dream and at any moment they would wake up screaming in their beds at home and even the basketball players at the opposite end of the court stopped playing (except for one short young man who was trying to make a basket. He just kept unsuccessfully shooting). Finally some small child in the stands not too far from the two girls said, “Look mommy, they don’t have any clothes on,” and that woke the girls up.
The girls turned to get back in the door they just left, but like many alternative entrances to girls’ lockerrooms, it had locked automaticly. When the girl with the towel over her shoulder realized this, she she look left then right and then sprinted for the hallway at the end of the nearby bleachers. She ran past fans and opponents alike looking for an acceptable hiding place.
The other girl continued to try to open the locked door but now adding banging on the door and the increasing hysterical crying of, “Let me in, please!” as six hundred peole stared at her half naked body.
The amazing thing was that excpet for her own voice, there was still relative silence. About then, a custodian jogged up and reacted as if this were a daily occurance. As the girl covered what was left of her modesty, he found the correct key and let the girl back into the lockerroom. The girl stumbled through the doorway looking more like a shell-shocked civilian than anything else.
The custodian turned around to return to his position by the dust mops used at half time, and as he did so, he received a standing ovation from spectators and athletes alike. He took a modest bow and returned to his post. The game continued.
I heard later that the girl who ran off hid out in a stall in the ladies’ room while friends and family brought her clothes to her.
I don’t think I can come close to that one, TV time.
When I was in high school, one day I was sitting outside with some of my friends during lunch. A group of kids was playing hackey-sack nearby (okay, this dates me). Also standing around was this poor geeky chick who had no friends, who had her back to the game. One guy went running to get the hackey sack and accidentally plowed into the girl’s back.
No one knew she had a glass eye. It popped out of her face and shattered on the ground. Complete silence.
Can’t say I blame you for wishing a world of urinary curses on your schoolmate there. But if it was me I’d save a few for your idiot teacher – for enforcing the rule under those circumstances. I highly doubt any reasonable adult could miss what was going on.
This reminds me of a time when I was in grade 2, during show-and-tell. A boy went up to the front and was showing something. I can’t remember now what it was because I was distracted by the fact that he was wiggling around so much, obviously needing the bathroom very badly. Obvious to me anyway. But for some reason the teacher just let him continue up there in front of the class until the inevitable happened in a big gush. Poor kid. Luckily for him he was very bright and was transferred to another school for gifted children the next year. But no one ever forgot that day and when we graduated in grade 8 one of the yearbook “memories” (which another meathead teacher allowed to be included) was the day Steven C. peed his pants in front of the class. How mean.
rivulus
Hey Tranquilis, take it from a Singaporean, it would’ve been okay to apologise to the staff serving your party. They would’ve appreciated that. In any case, we get that (the Ugly American) every now and then. We bitch about it when we’re in the backroom for all of 10 minutes, and then we get on with our jobs and lives. No harm, no foul.
As for the OP, the most recent emabarrassing thing I was witness to was when my girlfriend came over to stay. My mom, stepping out of the bathroom informed me curtly that there was something left behind on the sink. The only person who had used the bath earlier was my gf and apparently she had left her (used) sanitary napkin behind. It wasn’t stained or gross or anything, and I’m sure she had meant to put it away. Anyway, I disposed of it and went over to her and said “You know, those things don’t come with an automatic disposal service.” She didn’t get it at first, but you should have seen her wide-eyed horror when I told her it was my mother and not me that found it first. Needless to say she couldn’t face my mom that entire night during dinner.
I second this. I’ve seen a couple of unfortunate incidents happen because of teachers like this. One was when I was in the second grade. There was a boy who had to go to the bathroom really badly, so he asked the teacher and she said no! Moments later there was a conspicuous puddle around his desk. Poor kid was sitting there staunchly, red-faced, tears in his eyes. I was only 7 at the time but I remember distinctly being pissed off with the teacher. A similar thing happened to my best friend in middle school. She became nauseated in class, ran up to the teacher to ask if she could go to the bathroom. The teacher, annoyed at having her lecture disrupted, wouldn’t let her go. My friend disobeyed (which I wish more kids in these circumstances would do), and made it into the hallway before she was sick. The worst part was the school made her clean it up (!!!) before she was allowed to go home.
A few years ago I needed proof of immunization/vaccination to enroll in the local community college, so I took a trip to Philly to get a copy in my old Grade School records.
While wating, I went to the bathroom, where I heard a number of boys laughing cruelly. I went in to witness…
…some poor kid being force-fed his own feces.
For about 10 seconds, none of us moved or made a sound, save for the victim sobbing his shame and humiliation.
The lead bully suddenly had the balls to give me lip.
“What the Fuck you lookin’ at? GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!”
What could I do? Beat up some 7th graders?
Yep.
I reached back and gave that punk a bitch-slap that threw him across the room face first into the urinal. Then he and the others bolted for the door.
I then went to the little kid still in the stall. Helped him wipe the shit off his face and brought him to the sink
to wash his mouth out. Let him cry on my shoulder.
I took him doun to the nurses office to see if he could get some medication (for E.coli or something).
I went to the Principal’s office to explain the situation, and he just smiled, told me to leave so there was no witnesses. (The bully was a constant problem in school, apparently).
To add to the stories about mean teachers not letting kids use the bathroom, I’ll contribute this one that I didn’t actually see but heard plenty about.
This kid was in math class and asked the teacher if he could go to the bathroom. She said no. He was in sixth grade, old enough to know better really, but just sat there and went in his seat. Somebody must have smelled it or something because he had to go to the office and get his parents to bring him a change of clothes from home. Then when they got there, they didn’t even fit. And of course he still smelled bad.
Being a middle schooler, I laughed and didn’t feel remotely sorry about it.
I was a mean bastard. 
Let me aplaud you and say good for you **enolancooper
**.
This is not of the same type as the other stories cited here, but I witnessed a humiliating story a couple of years ago. My practice group of consultants was having a team meeting, consisting of about 25 people. One of the women was due to take maternity leave shortly. The team leader, Steve, was commenting on schedules (possibly involving this women - I don’t recall) when he remarked about “the date of …” and broke off. She said cutely “Steve, you were getting good about remembering my due date, and now I see you’ve forgotten it again”. He replied “actually I wasn’t talking about your due date”. The room became convulsed with laughter, with the exception of myself, who was noticing this poor woman’s face turning red as a beet. Steve - who is actually a very decent guy - tried to redeem himself, saying “actually we have to consider Allison’s due date as well” or something to that effect, but it was humiliating nonetheless.
You’ve no idea how releasing it is to hear that. Thank you.
We’d gotten a number of (now, obviously mistaken) lectures on conduct, social faux pas, and the like. Petty Officer XXXX obviously didn’t get it, but the rest of us took the content at face value. Shoulda known better.
Ok, my boyfriend (now my husband) and I had been dating only 5 months when I went to Oklahoma with his family to see his grandparents. Unfortunately, I had just started my period. I have a pretty heavy flow the first couple of days. Well, we (his family and all) were sitting around visiting in his aunt’s house. Unbeknownst to us, His aunt’s little rat for a dog was digging around in the bathroom trash can. The little rat pulled out one of the used pads, carried it into the family room, and dropped it in the middle of the floor. Everyone just sat there pretending not to see it; however, the unmistakable look of horror and disgust on their faces was too hard for them to hide. To make things worse, my husband and his sisters all knew it was mine. It laid there for about 15 minutes until his aunt walked into the house. Noticing it, she scolded the dog and calmly picked it up and put it in the trash. Needless to say I hate that dog! This still brings lots of laughs to this day. A forever embarrassment.
No offense, but why didn’t you pick it up the moment the little rat dog brought it out? If you weren’t there, I sure would have hoped someone else would have.
Ugh. Thats a bad one.
OT - That gives me yet another reason to hate little dogs.
Graduating class of 2000 (of which I was a part)…
We’ll call her A. Miss A’s name was called, and she walked up to the stage to get her diploma. Up the steps…and her shoe flies off…
Might not have been so bad, but graduation is kindofa one time thing. Still feel bad for her…
I wasn’t a witness to this one, but the people who told me about it aren’t the type to make something like this up about someone else, especially someone who’d be considered a mutual friend.
In high school. Junior year. Chem lab. “Jane” spilled a bit of solution of phenophthalein (or some other ridiculously hard to spell chemical) on her shirt. The stuff is known to stain horribly. The teacher sees what has just happened, knows that she can’t do anything about it, and brilliantly says, “I hope you don’t like that shirt…”
As if this wasn’t enough, “Jane” then bolts out of the room, headed for a restroom to attempt to rinse the solution out of her shirt. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t all the way to the bathroom before she’d torn the shirt off in her panic. At least she made it to the hall before it came off. If it had happened while she was still in the room…
In my sixth grade class was a chubby, slovenly, unpopular boy named Adam. Apparently Adam also had a pretty bad sinus infection. One day during history, he snuffled a very large and wet-sounding ball of slime that was so big everyone could tell he was holding a large quantity of snot in his mouth.
Sixth grade boys being what they are (evil) the others started jeering and taunting him. “Eeew! Swallow it, Adam! I bet he’s gonna swallow it! Oh, gross!” Adam just sat very still, his eyes focused on his textbook. Eventually, the teacher called the class to order and the lesson continued.
Unbeknownst to Adam, the other boys were still watching him. When he thought it was safe, he swallowed the crud as discreetly as possible. The room erupted in chaos as the other boys immediately started hollering. “He swallowed it! Adam swallowed the snot! Oh, gross!”
I wonder what happened to that kid. I bet he’s either in prison or he’s a CEO somewhere.
One of the most embarassing thing I ever saw also happened when I was at school.
Like every other Britsh 12 year old male at lunch break I played football(soccer for all American’s, funny how in American football you mostly use your hands!).We played every day and had set teams.Being twelve and at school we used a tennis ball.
Well there was this boy who thought he was the next Pele[great Brazilian soccer player, possibly the best of all time], But he wasnt.Everyone on his team hated it when he got the ball especially if there was a crowd, he just wouldnt pass.
Anyway on day he had just scored a good goal from the usual solo effort and didnt he just let everyone know about it, There was a good 5 mins of celebration, with him reinacting it for the girls.
The goalkeeper was less than pleased and swapped the tennis ball for an apple.He then launched it into the air. Now a tennis ball and a green apple look very much the same if your not expecting anything.
So this kid pushes others out of the way jumps a clean 4 foot of the ground and heads the apple. The apple instantly becomes mush and we are left in silence. It felt like the whole playground had stopped. As the red mark began to show on his forehead the laughter began, which soon became uncontrolable and very very loud.
The poor boy , who was still dazed, tried to run inside but had obviously not realised just how dizzie he was. He only managed about 2 steps before falling over. This was too much for me and friends and we collapsed in tears of laughter. we laughed so much and for sooo long I thought I was going to be sick. Even he had to laugh about it.
Here’s a story that I don’t tell anyone even though it makes me laugh really hard. I’ll take advantage of the relative anonymity here and finally tell someone.
When I was in the 10th grade, my mom made fried fish and homemade onion rings for dinner one night. Being both a teenage male and a glutton, I ate an obscene amount of fried fish and onion rings. A lot.
So I went to school the next day and I’m feeling fine but, shall we say, a bit gassy. I’m passing gas almost constantly, but it’s discreet and silent. And since it was fried fish and onion rings, this is some incredibly stinky gas. But here’s the key: It didn’t smell like someone just farting, so nobody ever said, “Hey, who’s farting so much?” It just smelled wierd and chemical-like. Unpleasant to be sure, but no one made the connection.
By my second period class, people were concerned. Word started to spread that there might be a gas leak, and my alebra teacher stopped teaching to go sniff all around the room, enlisting several other students to help find the gas leak. There was much concern, but eventually he decided class could resume.
This scenario repeated itself throughout the day, with teachers expressing great concern and searching for the gas leak. Meanwhile, I was sitting there praying they didn’t realize what was going on. I wasn’t the kind of kid who would revel in being the fartmaster or something like that (and I’m still not) so I would have been mortified. All through the day, I had to play along while we discussed this odd odor and pretend I had no idea what it was.
By my fifth period art class – yes, it was STILL happening in fifth period – word had spread through the school that there might be some sort of gas leak and teachers should be on the alert. When my art teacher smelled the gas, she summoned the shop teacher and the two of them went sniffing around the room for a while. After much conferring, they decided they had to play it safe. You know, for the sake of the children.
So they went and pulled the fire alarm.
The entire school had to evacuate and spend the last hour of the day standing around outside while the fire department checked the building. Meanwhile, this mild-mannered kid was just trying to be invisible, hoping nobody would catch on, and swearing to never eat fried fish and onion rings again.
Even though no one knew it was me, it was terribly embarassing at the time and for long after. But now I think it’s hilarious.
– Greg
I’m on a first date with a nice lady who I will call J. We went to watch 4th of July fireworks and afterward went to Denny’s (24 hour diner franchise) to get some food. From the parking lot to the restaurant we are walking behind a lady wearing a white silk dress with a big red spot. J and I didn’t know each other well enough yet to realize that we both have sick senses of humor so we both pretend not to notice the obvious.
The three of us enter Denny’s to a full waiting area, maybe 20 people. The lady saw a group of friends at a table and walked through the waiting are to see them. Every conversation in the waiting area stopped for a full 10 seconds. Finally one guy says in a fake Cockney accent, “Bloody aweful, isn’t it?” J, I and everyone else busted out laughing.
I really did feel bad for the lady for how she must have felt when she got home and discovered her problem.
Haj
Ugh. Enough with the period stories, I say. They’re pretty much all the same, and I don’t know a girl who hasn’t had something similar happen to her. It just sucks.
Btw, enolancooper: You rule. I mean, you seriously rule. Way to go, man.