Your Most Embarrassing Moment/Experience

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
41

When I was a teenager, I worked as a bank teller for a while. At one of the branches where I worked we had an electric coin rolling machine in the back room where all the supplies were kept.

One day when I didn’t have any customers, I went back there to roll some change. At the time I had long hair past my waist. Well, I must have been leaning over a bit far, because a lock of hair got caught in some spinning mechanism, and within a couple of second, I was pinned, with my ear to the machine. I managed to turn it off, but all the other tellers suddenly had customers to attend to. So I just stayed there, trying desparately to pull myself out, and quietly trying to get the attention of one of my co-workers without letting any customers know what sort of dorks they were turning their money over to.

Finally someone came to may rescue, but I lost a substatial chunk of hair to that machine.

42

This is one of the more embarrassing ones. It’s pretty recent too.

I was at the Maryland Renaissance Festival with a couple of friends. One of those friends is a thoroughly serious, circumspect dude who works for the Department of Defense. We’re very old friends and he’d never been to the Renaissance Festival so there he was. As friendly as this guy and I are, I try to not act too ridiculous in front of him.

So we’re at one of the outdoor taverns listening to Pirate music. I was wearing a Walmart short-skirted pirate costume and huge high-top biker boots with three-inch soles and heels. My two friends were dressed like, well, conservative dudes.

We’d been drinking for several hours. DoD friend was drinking like me but he’s a big guy and had also eaten quite a bit. Friend two stopped at two beers. Both guys were sober. I was pretty tanked.

At some point I decided it would be neat to get up on our picnic table bench and sing along.

“Don’t do it, man,” said DoD Dude. “Those are some high heels.”

“Yeah,” said Other Dude. “You’re pretty tanked.”

I got up on the bench.

“Whoo!” I said, sloshing wine all over my friends.

“C’mon, you’re gonna fall,” said Other Dude.

DodD Dude watched, speechless. He’d never seen me like this.

Then because I was feeling really joyful I got up on the table.

Then I fell over backwards off of the table. Because I was hammered I had no reflexes. I fell right on my tailbone, legs up in the air, underwear showing, wine all over myself and my friends.

It was a busy weekend at the Festival and the place was packed. Lots and lots of people saw this.

I’m glad I mostly didn’t feel anything, but it’s too bad that I remember it.

I spent the next three weeks sitting on a donut pillow.

43

I had a very similar purchase at a wal-mart one day, except mine was a 20 pack of AA batteries, astroglide, and saran wrap. I’m surprised the woman behind the counter didn’t have a stroke from trying not to laugh.

44

Heh, I was shopping at one of those Loblaws stores with a pharmacy on the premises, and all I wanted was a large turkey - but my friend wanted me to get a box of condoms for him.

For some reason, the lady at the check-out counter found it hilarious that I was buying nothing but a large raw turkey and a box of condoms.

45

I’m bored at work so I’ll contribute another one. Back in college a bunch of us took a weekend road trip to one of the guys’ parents’ house on a lake. It’s a large lake, with a lot of recreational activities. We went out to jet ski and go tubing. The lake was crowded with people having fun. When it was my turn to go tubing (that’s when you tie a large rubber tube to the back of a motor boat and one person hangs on the tube and gets pulled, sort of like water skiing, except you are lying prone, holding the tube for dear life) all started out well. It was fun! Then the wiseguys in the boat decided to have some fun and go faster. And faster. All of the sudden I was bouncing off of the wake high in the air, and it was taking all of my strength to keep my grip on the handholds. Finally, I couldn’t hold on any longer, let go and hit the water hard. I may have done an unwilling somersault under the water. When I surfaced and got some air I saw the boat circling a ways off and everyone was laughing and laughing. Then I realized that something was floating between me and the boat and to my horror I understood why they were laughing so hard. The floating object was my bathing suit, which got ripped off in my tumble under the surface. I tried to swim to it, but they had a motor… No one on the beach knew what happened, until I, as casually as possible, walked out of the water to the nearest towel, as quickly as possible. Ah, friends.

46

There are several possible answers of course, but one was during a high school tornado warning. We all had to sit in the hallway in that fetal like tornado drill position. I had an upset stomach and let out the loudest fart of my then young life (i.e. the tornado might well have struck at that moment and we just couldn’t hear it).

I did what any young southern gentleman in training would do. I turned to the girl next to me and said “Damn Debra! A little quieter next time!”

47

It was the end of the semester at college, and a bunch of us were sitting around a large table drinking beer and discussing a pretend movie we were going to make. Everyone had an, er, interesting part in the movie. It was also a very, very noisy little place, so the conversation was taking place at top volume.

Someone at the far end of the table called down to me asking what my part in the movie was, and just as I opened my mouth to reply, a dead silence fell over the room, and into the silence I shouted,

“I’m the town prostitute!”

My immediate cries of, “In the movie! In the movie!” went unheeded, of course. Except by the old friend who still reminds me of it regularly, nearly 40 years later.

Ah, friends, indeed.

48

My husband did this once at work, only he was wearing a dress shirt. Fortunately, he was in the men’s room at the time. Unfortunately, a co-worker had just walked in. Co-worker’s comment? “Now I suppose you’ll try to tell me those are your wife’s”

49

AHHH! You bring back the memory of my first spelling bee. I was in 2nd grade. The word was CIRCUS. I knew that it started with a ‘‘C.’’ I wasn’t sure whether it was CURCIS or CIRCUS.

Thus with all of my nerves I sputtered: ‘‘SIR… CUS?’’ I can still hear my young, stupid voice. Dashed all of my parents’ hopes and dreams. Out on the first word. So embarrassing.
My favorite humiliating story happened at a sleepover with my best friend, my best friend’s little sister, and my best friend’s little sister’s best friend, Grace. (got it?) We were playing Truth or Dare in friend’s bedroom. We had to be all of 10. So things were getting pretty racious and silly, and my Dare was to take off my shirt and sing ‘‘The 12 Days of Christimas’’ as loud as I could. Now I was both a conservative, shy girl and an early developer – I had a C rack by this time. But we were all girls, so I thought, why not? Grace promised to guard the bedroom door.

I pulled off my shirt and proceeded to sing The 12 Days of Christmas. At this point, Grace, bless her soul, whipped open the door just to screw with my head. The thing she didn’t know, is that my best friend’s Dad was walking down the hallway at that precise moment. I turned, half-naked, to find him strolling toward me.

‘‘EEEK!’’ I screamed. ‘‘GRACEY SHUT THE DOOR!’’

As she realized her error and hurriedly slammed it shut, my best friend’s father bellowed, ‘‘I see someone in a brassiere!’’

Epic embarrassment for a 10 year old girl, I promise. It didn’t help when we tried to have a civilized dinner that night and all the girls burst into song. Guess which one they decided to sing?

I forgave Gracey. She later became my best friend, and still is at 25, and actually is the reason for my username.

btw, Bricker’s story just might be the funniest thing I have ever read on the Dope.

50

Several years back, I was visiting some old college friends and we spent the better part of a day and night drinking heavily and smoking pot. The two I was visiting, being entirely more sensible than I, retired early while I stayed up to finish off what had been started. Eventually, I managed to pass out in a spare bed.

Early in the am, when the sun hasn’t fully risen and the birds are about their business I awoke to find myself feeling nauseous and faintly cold. Thinking that I needed to get to the Porcelin God and make an offering, I got up to find that my underwear was firmly stuck to my ass and that there was a decidely fecal smell to the air. To my horror and shame, I discovered that I had pulled a Spud (from Trainspotting) and had thoroughly shat the bed with my booze-induced diarrhea.

Mortified, I stripped the bed of its linens and dumped them in the washer with plenty of soap and bleach, cleaned the mattress as best as I could, stuffed my soiled undies in a plastic bag and beat feet for home. I tossed the undies into a trash can at a rest stop on the way home and I haven’t been in touch with them since then. My shame and humiliation prevent me from owning up to this incident, much less speaking to them about it.

If M. and K. are dopers and reading this, then sorry about all that.:smack:

51

Darn, I don’t really have a funny story to tell. Definitely the most embarrassing moment of my life was two weeks into college freshman year, eating lunch with fellow marching band kids. I was horribly anxious and socially shy at that time. I was eating a hamburger, a nasty hamburger that came in a cardboard foldy-carton. I wasn’t doing a good job fitting in, and my anxiety/depression was worsening daily. Nobody at the lunch table was talking to me, and I felt so ostracized and awkward that my nerves started acting up. My nerves got so bad, that I threw up a little, right into the carton. No mess, everything in the carton, but I definitely vomited and it was definitely noticed. I was so mortified and stunned, that I tried to pretend nothing had happened. I just sat there for the next 20 minutes in nigh-catatonic silence. Nobody asked me if I was alright. It probably reeked like hell too, but I didn’t notice. Ugh, what an awful memory.

52

I have two stories of embarrassment, although in one case it’s really my poor mother who was embarrassed:
Story #1. When I was a little boy, I had a tendency to wander off and get lost. And my parents had a tendency to take us to fine cultural events. One of these was an exhibit of artifacts from the reign of Alexander the Great. It was called The Search for Alexander. I, of course, wandered off and got lost.

Oh, and did I mention that my first name is Alexander?

So my poor mom had to go wandering through The Search for Alexander saying “Alexander? Alexander?”.
Story #2. A few years ago, I had a really dysfunctional relationship with a really crazy girlfriend. She had all sorts of baggage. So one evening, she was very upset, because she was experiencing really bad flashbacks to her childhood, when she had been molested by her uncle. I, being a sensitive friendly boyfriend, was doing my best to cheer her up, via sensitive support and/or low-key clowning. Anyhow, at one point I said something about how we had been promised punch and pie, and this caused her to smile. “Punch and pie” is, of course, a line from South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut, which we had recently seen and enjoyed. So I racked my brain to think of another funny line from that movie which would also help raise her spirits, and (I swear this is true) the next words out of my mouth were:

No one fucks uncles quite like you

53

I definitely feel for you. One morning when I was in 4th grade, I decided to eat school breakfast. I remember it vividly, sausage and eggs…I took a few bites, felt sick to my stomach and my breakfast suddenly kicked it into reverse onto my tray. There was a group of girls sitting a table across from me that looked mortified. I gathered my things and called home to be picked up.

That’s one of many embarrassing school stories…too many to mention.

54

You know… nearly thirty years after the fact, I can grin about it. And even at the time, afterwards, I laughed along with the ribbing. It IS a funny story.

But in that instant, up on stage, as the laughter rose and it hit me what I had said and why they were laughing… I still remember clearly that, “If God is merciful, now would be the earthquake that simply swallows me into the ground…” feeling.

55

I think one of God’s mercies to us is allowing us to relive those experiences with a sense of humor.
One of my most unfunny humiliating experiences was brought back to me by Autolycus’ little slice of juvenile hell. When I was a sophomore in college I was severely depressed, and developed a very minor problem with self-injury (by ‘‘minor’’ I mean I never even drew blood.) I went immediately to my therapist with it, to deal with it before it got out of hand, and the issue stopped almost as suddenly as it began. I told one of my close dorm buddies what had happened, because we had that sort of relationship.

One afternoon I sat down in the cafeteria at the same table as a guy who was in my solo and ensemble and existentialism classes. I had never said more than two words to him, but he’d always complemented me on my performances and seemed like a very nice person to get to know. So the two of us began to make mundane conversation and try to get to know one another. A few other friends of his joined us at the table and we all started talking.

Enter my buddy, who is one of the most clueless, tactless people on the planet. He sat down next to me and announced, in full earshot of everyone at the table, ‘‘Oh my god olives I can’t believe you cut yourself with razor blades and shit!’’

I looked at him in utter chagrin. ‘‘We are not having this conversation right now.’’
‘‘But that is so unhealthy! I am really worried about you.’’
‘‘It’s been dealt with. Drop it.’’

I couldn’t get away from that table or the awkward silence that had descended fast enough.

My friend later told me he had been under the impression that I was personal friends with every person at that table and they were all perfectly aware of my mental issues. Jesus I don’t think I’ve ever been more mortified in my life.

Looking back on it, and least I can laugh at my friend for being such a clueless jackass.

56

I could just see myself doing that. I am laughing so hard, that my five year old keeps asking me, “What, what? Read it to me!”.

Do you think the call was real or a practical joke, ala “The Simpsons”, Amanda Hugandkiss…

57

Early in my drinkings days (okay I didn’t start drinking up until 2 years ago) me and my co-coworkers at Universal Studios rented a house and had a toga party. I only knew half of the crowd. There were a lot of random friends invited. I’d say there were about 50 people in all. Mostly cute girls.

Prior to this I had never drank heavily, keep that in mind.

So, it’s around 11pm and me and a few other co-workers arrive at the party. A huge 151 jello-shot is shoved into my face by a pretty half-naked girl at the door. I ate it up, no problem. I continued to greet everyone as usual and began my drinking.

In one of the bedrooms I lined up 4 shots of Jager. I took all 4 without any pause in between. Yum yum…

Now I immediately continue into the kitchen. There was a nice variety of booze at hand. Now I continue taking shots of EVERYTHING chasing them with Flavored Smirnoff Ice. None of this hit me… I was amazed!..

So, after about 15 or so shots of different liquors and a few beers (all within 15 minutes) I decide I’ll jump in the pool. So I pull of my toga and hop in. I’m wearing boxers here, I’m not naked. Pool was nice and warm but none of the girls wanted to get wet. All of the action was inside. So I hopped out and went back in. Grabbed a towel and wrapped myself up.

Continued random conversations and ended up sitting on a loveseat in the middle of the living room.

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Eyes slowly open.
Focus becomes clear.
Blue flashing lights everywhere.

I am being carried by 2 people out the front door COMPLETELY NAKED!!!

Thrown into an SUV and blacked out again.

Wake up puking on a sidewalk in front of my place.

Helped to front door then stumble to bed.

Next morning I get up for work covered in my own piss and still drunk.

To this day I still wonder… HOW THE FUCK DID I END UP NAKED???

and more importantly WHAT HAPPENED WHILE I WAS NAKED!!!..

(This is not a time to jump to conclusions people)

No words were ever again spoken of this party.

And that is what worries me.

(Okay, you may now jump to conclusions)

That is my most em-bare-ass-ing story.

58

One summer when I was 15, I noticed a small plane circling low above the family farm I was spendind my vacation on. A bit annoyed at the skyward intrusion, horny as hell, imaginative and foolish, I got an idea to shock the plane pilot by dropping my pants and mooning at the plane. The plane continued the circling, I continued the mooning, spreading the cheeks and all, following the plane’s movements. Gotta admit, I got a kick out of my spoof…

An hour later my uncle and his family drove to the yard, and my six-year old cousin rushed in to tell me that they had just flown a plane over the family farm. I felt 50 lbs. of molten lead dropping down my throat. My uncle’s wife came in, with a weird, hysterical expression on her face and I knew I’d been seen - they had binoculars on board.

I can only assume that once the parents saw what was going on down there they didn’t let the boy take a look, since my cousin was luckily totally unaware of anything odd happening. I still get a bit mortified when I take a stroll down that memory lane…

59

Sorry, not funny, just embarrassing and traumatizing:

I went out for a co-worker’s birthday party to a sushi joint in Hollywood. It was a large group of friends and co-workers, and I had carpooled with a group that I was friendly with at work, but that I hadn’t really hung out with outside of work.

Dinner was great, but as we were casually strolling back to the cars, I suddenly felt enormously, incredibly sick. I staggered along for another block, before I had to stop and ask, “Umm, guys, do you know where there’s a bathroom around here?” I was directed toward the (famous) Arclight Theater.

I made my brisk way to the Arclight, found a bathroom, and proceeded to void my body from both ends. But did I feel better? Oh, no. I found my way back to the group and told them I didn’t feel well and that they should leave without me. I was mortified that I would get sick in the crowded car with this group of acquaintances. I didn’t give them any choice and practically sprinted back to the Arclight, where I proceeded to be sick again in the bathroom.

I then went to the front desk and asked them if they could call me a cab. They were very nice and got out the phone book, but as I was standing there…urgh! I vomited into the trashcan to the side. Sort of awkwardly, they told me that the cab would pull up out front. I staggered in that direction and vomited once more in another trashcan. All the bystanders (there were a lot) probably thought I was horribly drunk.

In the end, the cab drove me home without any more vomiting incidents, luckily. I had terrible social anxiety accompanied by nausea and sometimes vomiting for a year after that. Now I am better, and when anyone mentions the Arclight, I say, “Oh yeah, I threw up in their lobby once.”

60

I am sure I have many but this one came to mind first.

I was in grade four and running for student council. At my school you could either go outside for lunch or stay in the library. The librarian was a bit of a hard ass and generally wouldn’t let you leave for any reason; once you were in the library you were there until class started. Those were the rules. It was the day of the speeches and I had gone to the library to go over my speech at lunch. Things were going fine until I felt a lump in my stomach. I asked the librarian to excuse me to go to washroom, but was declined.

The lump in my stomach was growing into something horrible and as soon as the librarian was distracted I bolted. I was about 5 steps from the washroom when I vomited all over the hallway. I don’t know if anyone saw me but I ran to a different washroom to clean up and I acted like I had no idea who the offender was. I didn’t get elected that year…