Awww Monstro. I live pretty much like that too. If I don’t embarrass myself unintentionally at least twice a week, there’s something out of alignment with the world.
I’ve discovered I don’t remember it. Yay!
I can’t particularly think of a time where I felt humiliated. I think you would need to care what others think as a prerequisite.
Sorry I whooped your ass, monstro. But if it makes you feel better, I have no memory whatsoever of the speeches we gave, and I doubt anyone else does. So you’re probably the only person alive who remembers this humiliating day. That’s a good consolation, right?
I swear, I must have experienced some head trauma somewhere along the line because you remember so many more things than I do! Maybe Ga Tech permanently fucked up my memory banks. Yeah, I think that was it.
Got called into an interview just as I took a sip from a water fountain.
Being distracted by the call, I got water on my chin, wiped it on my hand,
and then got trapped by the personnel guy who grabbed my hand before I could find a place to wipe it.
Eating a chilidog that had bought for lunch and been sitting on the counter since morning for dinner, because we all went out for lunch. The bus ride home was unpleasant. 
During divorce proceedings I went to my neighbors’ to leave papers for her to pick up. But she was already there with a new boyfriend I had never met. He scurried out and no words were said by us or the neighbors either.
He he. I almost had a similar experience. When I was at Texas, they held open tryouts for the basketball team after a coaching change and some player defections had left the bench woefully short. I was a halfway decent point guard in pick-up games on good days, but I had been cut from the 9th grade basketball team for being a foot shorter and two steps slower than everyone else. I was now 5’9" and faster, but no where near NCAA D-I level. I thought trying out would be a good experience, and playing ball at Texas had been my dream when I was in elementary school. I went and got the tryout forms, and read the schedule. Day one was: show up at the gym at 4:30 am and run wind sprints for like an hour. Ha. The heck with that.
To add to the thread: When I was in 5th grade, our school was structured so that there were groups of two classrooms, connected by a hallway in the back that had the bathrooms (small closets with a toilet in them) and a door to the playground. When my class was lining up for recess one day, I was in the bathroom taking a pee. I must’ve been singing to my self or something, because suddenly the teacher opened the bathroom door thinking I was screaming in pain – meanwhile all the girls lined up to go outside are craning their necks to get a look at me. I probably peed on the wall turning away so quick.