Your Most Embarrassing Moment(s)?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I know we’ve done this species of thread in the past; I’m in need of some lightheartedness today, so can we give it another go? :smiley:

So, the following happened 38-years-ago and I still cringe (and laugh) when I think about this – which is disconcertingly often :rolleyes:

When I was 12 and belonged to a Mormon family (and State), we had to dress up for Sunday Church. This meant dresses and nylons for women and girls. Way back in the mists of time, suntan full-on pantyhose were part of everyone’s dressy uniform.

One chaotic Sunday morning I couldn’t find my hose and pilfered some from my grandmother’s bureau. I was a thin slip of a thing and gramma was a roundish person, so the hose were very much too big.

In the middle of Sunday services I had to make a bathroom run – we were seated at the front of the very large chapel, so it was a goodish stroll down the aisle to reach the exits. A few steps into my journey I felt gramma’s hose lose their grasp on my waist. A few steps more and they were riding my hips . . . a few steps more and they crumpled into a pool of tan shame around my ankles. A quick and panicked assessment of the situation led me to believe that the best course of action was to shuffle as quickly as possible down the aisle with the pantyhose shackling my ankles together.

The speaker literally stopped as he saw the stir of congregants turning their heads toward the aisle, whispering, then ultimately bursting into laughter. My Walk of Shame was witnessed by roughly 250 people; childhood friends still regularly bring up the event and collapse with laughter.

I waddled my way to the bathroom and stayed in there for an hour until services were over and most of the witnesses to my shame had gone home. I wadded up gramma’s supersize L’Eggs and stuffed them in the garbage along with any shred of dignity my 12-year-old self had left.

2

Oh my. Let me think of some:

I (think) I once used the Chinese word for “orgasm” when I meant a different kind of “climax;” a music-crescendo climax in a music context.

Another Chinese goof: Saying* pei zhan* (“to be buried with someone”) rather than pei tsan (“make restitution to.”) So instead of saying, “When you have wronged someone, you need to make restitution,” what came out instead was, “When you have wronged someone, you need to be buried (alive?) with them.”

3

BTW, Jennshark, don’t feel bad - the saying, “Your worst humiliation is only someone else’s momentary amusement.”

4

My sister USED to be married to a racist asshole.

One day I took my (then) 4yo nephew to the grocery store. As we are waiting in the check out line, there is a black couple if front of me with a child about the same age as my 4yo nephew. As children do, they made quick friends and started chasing each other around the magazine stand. My nephew jumped out from one side and startled the other kid. To which my nephew claims to me very loudly: “DID YOU SEE THAT? i SCARED THAT LITTLE NGGR!”

EVERYONE heard. The people in front of me, the people in back of me, and the (black) cashier who I still had to look in the eye as she was ringing me up.
Thank god my sister divorced that racist dick. And thank god my sister dropped her racist bull shit as soon as she was rid of him.

Ugh!!

5

:eek::eek::eek::eek::eek:

6

My sister just told me this story: she was trying to leave the vet with her young dog. He’s about 45 lbs, and really, really wanted to cross the waiting room and see some puppies that had just come in. She couldn’t get him to leave, so she bent over and picked him up. As she picked him up, the dog was struggling and managed to hook his legs into her pants. He pants-ed her right there in the waiting room. Not just her yoga pants, but also her underwear. :eek:

7

Heh.

I asked a friend of a friend if she would like to accompany me to the county employee x-mass party (she was a reporter for the local small town paper. Quite well known). It would be our first (and last) date.

Driving to the event I asked her how her last name was pronounced. And asked if it sounded like this grrrlrbibhled. (I had only seen her name in print). I was way off. It was an Italian name and was quite beautiful done correctly. Opps #1

While mingling before dinner, a fellow I hardly knew started chatting with us but I couldn’t remember his name. I thought and thought and finally remembered it. It was driving me crazy because I wanted to introduce him to my guest. I was completely focused on remembering HIS name.

“Dave, I would like to induce you to… umm… to… um… um…” Total mind block on my own dates name. To top it off when we went in for dinner, there where no tables with a few open spaces. So we sat alone at a nine top table. It was a quite dinner.

Oh, and my ride was a rag top jeep. In a major snow storm to a ski resort. In dress clothes.

Really sorry about that Stacy. Twenty five years later, I can remember your name. Well, you probably remember mine too. :slight_smile:

8

Many years ago, when I was still dating my now wife, I went on a vacation with her and her parents. Because this was a weekend, Sunday church was absolutely on the agenda. We were in a small town with a small church.

During the service I felt a frightening churning in my stomach. Whatever I had for breakfast was not sitting still. There was just a single bathroom in the building, located at the back of church (which was not all that far from the front of church).

The stomach rumbling ramped up a notch and I knew that a visit to that bathroom was in my near future. I gingerly made my way down the aisle, praying I wouldn’t shit myself right there.

I entered, closed the door, and yanked my pants down. The first burst of diarrhea loudly exploded out of my anus before I was even seated.

So there I sat, knowing the entire congregation had heard my shit-storm. The rear pew was a mere six feet or so from the thin door; I assumed they smelt it, too.

And there was more to come. Preventing it was impossible. Attempts at suppressing the noise were only slightly successful. This was occurring during a remarkably quiet portion of the service.

What could I do? I finished my business. But instead of returning to my pew, I exited the building and went to the Burger King located next door. When mass ended, I met my new family at our vehicle. Nobody said a word about my troubles.
mmm

9

Long ago the front windows of cars were commonly divided into two windows, a big square one and a little triangular one at the front. Like this

The little triangular window was called a “vent window”, or sometimes (at least in the Midwest) a “fly window”
(I guess because flies could get in through that window).

Once I was on a first date, riding down the road in his automobile. It was getting a little stuffy in the car, so I innocently asked, “Would you open your fly?” The look on his face was priceless.

10

I guess for me it would be about 10-12 years ago, I was at a conference in Vegas and 4-5 of my friends and I decided to take a half-day off and visit the Hoover Dam. I had rented a minivan so no problems transporting everybody, and we had no trouble getting there and parking in the garage.

After a full tour on the inside and walking across on the top, we headed back to the car. It was at this time that I realized that I did not have the keys, having apparently left them in the car. I (and the rest) headed for the vehicle hoping (1) that the keys were still in it and (2) that if they were, the car would still be there.

Well, they were and it was; but imagine how I felt when it turned out that not only had I left the keys in the car, but I had left the engine running! Fortunately, I had had a near full tank of gas, so two hours of idling hadn’t run me out, but to this day there are several folks who mention (in my hearing) about the time "***** left the car running at Hoover Dam.

11

I was going to a cousin wedding and it was going to a really fancy Jewish wedding . I went to visit a neighbor and told I wasn’t feeling good so she gave me some yeast in a cup of warm water. The dress I was wearing was a little too small so my sister took it out . By the time we got to the wedding my sister notice that my dress was getting tighter and my feet were looked puffed up ! I started to fart like crazy too and was hoping no one heard me b/c my farts didn’t sound that loud to me . Just as the bride came out my sister starting to elbow me real hard and said my hearing aid is whistling and people are going to think someone whistling at the bride ! I was wrong, my sister said I was farting up a storm at the whole wedding !

12

A long time ago, I used to somewhat regularly order bulgogi from a Korean restaurant. It was a takeaway place, with just a counter to place orders, and the food was served in clamshell trays in paper bags that you’d carry horizontally (like a pizza). I had just learned a few words of Korean and thought it’d be nice to say thank you or goodbye or something in Korean. So, the next time I ordered bulgogi, I had a few new words in my head and ended up asking for “gaegogi,” which means dog meat. The woman taking the order frowned and gasped and I stammered out an apology, but the damage was done. When my order was ready, she glared at me and shook the bag vigorously before handing over my food.

13

Not away from home like you were, but many years ago I went to lunch with my mom and realized after eating that I had left the keys in the car with the engine running. I guess we were hungry.

14

Once when I was interpreting on stage, I knocked my glasses of my face. They went all they way into the lap of someone in the first row. I stopped wearing my glasses when I was interpreting after that.

That’s not as bad as another interpreter I know. She was interpreting, and was, I guess, talking about something pretty exciting. She accidentally stuck her finger up her nose, and caused a serious nosebleed.

15

My family came to visit over the holidays a few years ago and I took them out to a fine restaurant for dinner. We were seated at a long rectangular table on the outside upper deck, adjacent to a floor-to-ceiling window wall separating us from the second floor *inside *diners. I sat between my brother and oldest daughter against the windowed wall. Inside, there were multiple tables of people with a clear view of us. I noticed a stuffy-looking middle-aged couple with two young kids seated behind me on the other side of the glass.

The wine passed through me and I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I had to get past my 6’ 6” big brother’s seat which was pushed back too far toward the window. So I had to suck in my gut to squeeze behind the back of his chair. While doing so, my pant’s snap-button unsnapped.

Daughter: [pointing at me] *“Hey, Dad, your pants fell down! Ha ha ha!” *[My family and adjacent diners turned and laughed]

[I know that, dear daughter, the breeze against my bare legs tipped me off. But thanks for alerting everybody to my embarrassing dilemma. Remind me to up your allowance]

If I had a nice brother, he would have pulled his chair forward, releasing me, so I could pull up my pants and proceed to the bathroom. But my brother is a jokester, so he pushed his chair further back, pressing my tighty-whities firmly against the window. In frantic desperation I tried squirming free.

I did manage to wriggle free, but not before the friction against the glass and chair-back rolled the top of my underpants down, thus exposing a good portion of my bare buttocks to the inside diners (I glanced back and the stuffy-looking couple didn’t look pleased with the nudie-show I flashed their kids).

I quickly buckled up and did the walk of shame to the bathroom. I took my time before returning to our table, hoping the attention on me would have subsided as I slunk back.

No such luck.

[I reenter the deck]

[Applause!]

Wiseguy at next table: “Encore!”

At least the band didn’t start playing strip-tease music…
More recently:

[Phone rings]

Tibby: “Hello?”

Caller: “Hi, Tibby, remember me? How are you?”

[Hmm, I know that voice…who the heck is it? I didn’t want to be rude and ask, “who is this”, so I quickly flip through my mental Rolodex—ah, yes…it’s Jennifer!]

Jennifer used to work for me. Great receptionist with a keen sense of humor. I was always attracted to her and our personalities clicked, but being her boss, I felt it inappropriate for me to ask her out. Plus, she’s considerably younger than me and I’m not in her league looks or fitness-wise (ex-Navy officer who works out regularly).

So, it came as a pleasant surprize when, on her last day under my employ (she secured a better job), she said, “you know Tibby, I’m so tired of dating losers my age who just want to get in my pants; you’re a nice guy, I think we should date”

Tibby: “…Uh, yeah, sure…absolutely! Why didn’t I think of that!”

We had a couple of dates and they went very well. Romance seemed on the horizon. But life circumstances intervened (she was having kid and ex problems, and my life was accelerating quickly from *bad *to spectacularly bad) and we drifted apart. My post-divorce dating came to a complete halt. I did miss Jennifer (so did my kids), however, so it was wonderful to hear from her again. I’d love to reconnect.

To paraphrase the rest of the conversation:

Tibby: “Hey, kiddo, great to hear from you!”

Jennifer: “Yes, good to hear from you, too…”

Tibby: “I really missed you! We had some good times together.”

Jennifer: “…Uh, yeah…I uh guess we did.”

Tibby: “I was afraid I’d never hear from you again.”

Jennifer: “Hmm…ok…really?”

Tibby: *“Can I take you to [a local restaurant] this Saturday so we can get reacquanted?” *

Jennifer: *“…well…uh…maybe…I guess…” *

Tibby: “Great! I’ll call you Friday to confirm. Maybe you could wear that black dress of yours?”

Jennifer: “Well…ok…”

… [closing remarks] [click]

*Finally, something to look forward to! Maybe life isn’t so bad, after all.

…Funny though, she called me, yet she sounded a little befuddled. I wonder why?

…Hmm, come to think of it, her voice sounded a little different than I remembered; that’s odd.

…It’s tax season again…

…Hey, wait a minute—no, it can’t be! :smack:

[check caller ID] Egad! I made a date with my tax accountant—who I’m not attracted to in the least!*

Thankfully, she had a sense of humor when I called back and explained the mix-up. “Yeah, I didn’t think you were interested in me, beyond doing your tax returns.”

On a brighter note, the real Jennifer called me last week (I asked for first and last name to be sure) and we’re going out next week.

16

Nothing will ever be as embarrassing as the time a friend was hesitant about signing a petition, and I blurted out without thinking “Just sign it. It’s not like we’re asking for your first born son.” THEN I remember her first born son was the victim of a murder/suicide by his father. She turns around, walks out, and never mentions it again.

This one is the second most embarrassing one:

I’m at the mall with my sister-in-law, and we are telling New York City jokes. As we approach the escalator, I tell the one "Did you hear about the NYC tourist who walks up to the native and asks “Can you tell me where Carnegie Hall is, or should I just go fuck myself.” I get on the escalator, and hear my SIL behind me ask “Or should I what?” I turn around, say loudly “OR SHOULD I GO FUCK MYSELF?” and then realize I am talking to the middle aged lady, a stranger who has gotten on the escalator between us. I snap my head forward, cover my mouth to stop laughing, and end up snorting. Behind me, my SIL says “Oh, shit.” I get off the escalator and step to the side, the lady gets off and walks forward, I catch my SIL’s eyes and we laugh so hard we have to sit down.

17

Learning a foreign language is fun. You get to make all sorts of mistakes. Intending to ask what the speed dial number 短縮ダイヤル tanshoku daiyaru, I mangled it and implied that the client had a “short tool” 短小 tansho which means what you can imagine. The women in the office were nice enough to hold their laughter until after I let.

A friend managed to tell our kind hostess that he wanted to breast feed おっぱい oppai, instead of informing her he was full いっぱい ippai when she asked if he would like anything else at dinner.

18

I wasn’t going to put this, but you reminded me. In college I used to always say “your mom!” all the time as if it were still a funny joke. But it was always in dumb situations:

“Why did we fumble the ball three times?”

“Your mom fumbled the ball!”

So…anyway…

A guy at college, whom I’d essentially just met, said something was dead, so I said “your mom’s dead” and his response was “Yeah she is”. I figured this was an attempt to one-up my horrible joke, so I said “Yeah, because I killed her!” I then come to find out that his mom really did die when he was a teen. I felt really bad. Thankfully he had a great and morbid sense of humor and rolled it off his back.

Here’s the story I came in to say:

We have a women’s professional soccer team here in Orlando and we’ll go to the games quite frequently, but given that it’s women’t professional soccer, not many other people do. The team wanted to drum up support so they created a city-wide scavenger hunt where the winners get to go onto the field at halftime and meet the players afterwards.

Needless to say I’m quite competitive and we got into a bit of a row with another team. The other team and ours were neck-and-neck throughout the contest and especially at the end. My team ended up winning, but it honestly could have gone either way. Regardless, the other team wasn’t too happy that we won and they were being kind of petty about it.

Fast forward to the end of the game where I’m on the field and who is directly behind me in the FRONT ROW of the stands? Literally making no difference that my team won? This other team. So aside from being irked at them for being petty that we won, they didn’t even gain anything if they did. This all contributed to my less-than-favorable mood around them.

Now I’m on the field getting autographs from the players as they walk by, while this other team is talking about all the times THEY’VE met the girls and blah blah whatever. Up comes an Australian girl who plays on the team. A member of the other team says “Aussie Aussie Aussie! See, you have to say that because she’s Australian.” Now this pissed me off because now this person is talking down to me? I get really defensive and this conversation happens:

Other Team Member: …you have to say that because she’s Australian"

Me (angrily): I know she’s Australian!

Player: Oh yeah? What’s my name?

I didn’t know her name. I knew we had Aussie players (2 of em in fact) on the team, but I don’t know the team well enough to know who they are. So now I feel so bad and I’m even angrier at this stupid other team for making me look like an asshole. All I can muster to say is “I blame you for this!” to the other team. And the worst part? The player just chuckled and said “Hi! My name is Ashley. nice to meet you.” in the absolute sweetest way. Not only was I embarrassed, the girl was nice as can be.

Fuck that other team.

19

In my younger years, I drove a transport truck. My sleep rhythms and schedules were all out of whack. Going 48 hours without sleep was common and my record was 4 days and 3 nights.

When I would finally get home, I would often sleep for 15-20 hours straight, waking only to eat and/or go to the washroom. During one of these sleeping periods, my then girlfriend’s sister came over to visit. They kept it quiet, no problem there. However, I woke up hungry and naked with morning wood (even though it was the afternoon) and walked full-boner into the living room where my now sister-in-law was sitting with my now-wife. I was so groggy that I stood there in plain view for a good 10 seconds before realizing what was happening, the fact that I was naked, etc. I’m cringing now just thinking about it.

20

At a luncheon with about 50 other members of an organization, we were encouraged to go back for seconds. When I did so, the old man in charge of the food held out a ladleful of stew over the pot and I held out my plate. In the blink of an eye, the weight of the stew doubled my single, flimsy plastic plate (everyone else was using two nested plates), and the fresh load on my soiled plate fell back into the pot in a most unceremonious and unappetizing manner.