We all get embarrassed sometimes. Maybe we make a fool of ourselves, or maybe it's secondhand, but you still get that same feeling in your gut. Usually, you can look back and say, "It wasn't that bad!" These people, well...you'll see. Sometimes, it IS that bad.
I got rehired at a job after six years, and most of the people still there remembered me and were happy to see me back. When Friday rolled around, someone said, “Dave, come by the break room!” I wandered in, and there was this cake at the end of the table, and everyone was standing there. So I said, “You guys!” and blew out the candle.
I didn't realize my mistake until it was too late: The cake said, “Happy Birthday, Julie”.
I used to watch TV with my parents when I was a kid, and I wound up watching a couple French kiss onscreen. Of course, I then thought that that was how you were supposed to kiss everyone. So later, my mom asked for a kiss from me, and I tried to French kiss her. I sometimes think that I was a special ed kid.
I had a stats professor at university who had a different picture of his grandkids on his laptop every single class session. He was a cool guy and clearly an awesome grandpa who loved those kids a lot, and he would frequently talk about them. But one day during class about 10 weeks into the semester, he powered on his laptop, and it displayed a picture of some random waterfall.
So, I said to him in front of the class, “What’s up, man? Your grandkids know they were replaced by some lame waterfall?” His response was devastating: “I appreciate the levity, but my daughter had a miscarriage over the weekend, and it’s too painful to have a reminder of what was lost right now.” It was super awkward. Also, it was the quietest I have ever heard a classroom become.
My wife was set up on a blind date by a friend several years before I met her. They agreed to meet at a mall and then go from there. This is the late nineties, before cell phones, so he tells her he'll be wearing blue jeans and a Megadeth t-shirt and she tells him her outfit so they can identify each other. She arrives at the mall and sits down to wait.
After thirty minutes there’s still no sign of him. She’s about to leave when a guy approaches her and asks if she's waiting for a date. It's him, but wearing a completely different outfit. Confused, she asks why he told her he'd be wearing something else. His response was absolutely insane. He just shrugged and says his mom didn’t do the laundry yet. Two strikes...
They still decide to grab some food. He tried to use an expired coupon and started an argument with the girl behind the counter. At the table, he asks my wife if she knows how to cook. What meals does she know how to cook? Can she make this or how does she make that etc. The conversation continues but now he adds, "Do you do it naked?" after everything.
For example, she likes to go rock climbing, “but do you do it naked?" Or, I like to grow my own vegetables, "but do you do it naked?" Needless to say, my wife decided to end the date early and leave. He asks if she can lend him bus fare since his mom won't be coming to get him for several hours. He was twenty-seven years old.
During the seventh grade orientation, one of the facilitators of the other group was a really cute senior in their last year of high school. Mind the age gap: I was 13, and he was 18. He was a star athlete and very popular, so he immediately caught my eye. I quickly added him and his friend (who I also had a crush on) on Facebook. My crushes got so deep that I wrote a whole self-insert fanfiction about them in a complicated love triangle with me. I even proudly showed my friends.
During his last month of school, I wanted to confess but was too shy to do so. So, I wrote up a confession letter and somehow convinced my more extroverted friend to email it to his Hotmail. We never heard back.
In my second year of college, I was pulling an all-nighter at the same time as one of my friends, who was very cute. We weren't in the same place, but we kept messaging over Facebook. It was really nice just talking with her. I had been single for about two months and was feeling confident. When dawn hit and our papers were done, she asked me out for celebratory breakfast.
I looked like I had just finished an all-nighter, and she looked radiant. As our breakfast went on, we talked, laughed, and the caffeine begins to mix with the satisfaction of completing my work for the semester. I’m feeling like I'm in a really good place. The sun is starting to fill the windows of the restaurant we're in, and there's this warm light everywhere.
She smiles coyly and asks me if I'm over my ex. I smile, say I am and I'm already thinking about who I'd like to ask out next. She smiles even broader and asks me who that is while touching me on the hand. And I said the stupidest thing possible. "Her name is Rebecca and she was in one of my history classes." Distinctly, this was not the girl I was out to breakfast with.
She looked devastated. At the time, I had no idea why. Realizing the mood had changed I quickly said, "I'm sad the semester's ending soon, but I'll see you in the spring!" I ran back to my dorm, ending what I would later learn was the first date with my future wife.
My friend and I were playing with some robot dog toy or something when it suddenly ran out of juice. We went into my parents’ room, knowing the dresser beside their bed had a package of batteries. As we rummaged through the drawer, we accidentally stumbled across my parents’ “adult toy” and some dirty magazines. Our immediate idea was to prank my older sister and plant them in her room.
Ultimately, we decided that it would be too mean since she wasn’t a part of the discovery, and it wouldn’t be funny to her. So instead, we just grabbed the batteries and returned to our dog toy. But that wasn't the end of it... Anyway, long story short, my friend thought it would be funny to plant the rubber dong and mags in my room. I shouldn’t have trusted her, but she snuck them under my bed the second I went to the bathroom.
I didn’t realize it for the entire weekend. Then on Monday morning at school, she came up to me, dying of laughter, and asked what my parents said. I didn’t really get what she meant, and then she spilled the beans—my parents’ special toy and their dirty magazines were under my bed frame. My stomach dropped. Cut to me running home after school praying to God my parents didn’t realize what was missing from their bedside drawer.
My mom was acting funny when I got home. She asked how my day was, and I said, “Fine”. Then she told me she cleaned my room for me in this really weird tone. My stomach dropped, and I was like, “Ugh, great. My parents think I actively took and used their toy dong.” I dropped my bag off in my room and looked under my bed, and everything was gone. She definitely found her “special toy.”
I was so shy and awkward, I just freaking avoided them for as long as possible. I should have just told them my best friend was pranking me, but the idea of talking to my parents about their “special toy” made me want to burst into flames. So, I just didn’t. And now, my parents have continued on, to this day, thinking I took their “adult toy” and dirty magazines and hid them under my bed.
Oof. So, I used to work in a store that sold prom dresses. My boss was a grumpy older woman with a heart of gold. She was also really superstitious: She had this painted wooden rooster that she picked up in New Orleans named Phil, and whenever business was down, she used to threaten him. She insisted this always made business pick up.
Well, one day, we had a small group of teenage girls come into the store, and as I was helping them, my boss walked past us and muttered, “I’m going to go to my office and choke the chicken.” The looks the customers and I exchanged! Oh, my God! Fortunately, they were really nice about it. One of them muttered, “So...she has NO idea what that means, huh?”
I then told them about Phil, and they all had a good chuckle while we finished up. Then I had to go to the backroom and explain to a woman older than my mother what “choking the chicken” meant...
My mother liked to make ceramic dolls. She was part of a “Doll Club” in which fellow crafters would meet and discuss the craft and share ideas. My mom was, on average, 20 years younger than the majority of the club members. They would also rotate hosting responsibilities. One day, while my mother hosted 20 or so mostly-elderly women at our house, I walked into the space to greet our houseguests. I was 17 years old at the time.
While standing in the room saying hello, my younger brother grabbed my sweat pants and dropped them to my ankles: boxer briefs and all. I got pantsed in front of the doll club—the full monty. Thirty-something years later, I can still vividly see their faces and reactions. I’m scarred for life.
This was embarrassing at the moment, but it worked out. It was a second date, on Valentine's Day, so I decided to go all out. I bought her flowers, a musical card, and chocolates. I was aiming to impress her and couldn’t wait to surprise her after the date. It was freezing cold, and I didn't have anywhere to keep the presents except my car, which I thought would be fine.
We finish dinner and everything is going smooth until we get back to my car. The flowers had withered, but I thought, “That’s ok, I still have two more surprises!” I hand her the card and hear it go bbbzzzzzz as she opens it. I sighed and said, "Well... I hope the chocolates are okay." She started laughing and gave me our first kiss.
My first date with my now-husband was just painful. Two very anxious people with no dating experience. We decided to go to the library and use their wifi to watch Netflix in the backseat. As soon as we got to the library he got out of the car and threw up in the parking lot. I then admitted to him that I had done the same before he picked me up. He tried to play it off, but we both knew it was nerves.
In middle school, I experienced, hands down, the most painful, embarrassing moment of my life. At the time, I was part of a track and field club that went to various events to compete with other clubs. Things weren’t always run in the most organized way, but it was just supposed to be a fun way for youngish kids looking to compete and have fun, so no big deal.
When this story took place, I was nearing the cut-off age for this particular club at the ripe old age of 14. My scrawny little white-boy butt liked long-distance running because I wasn’t very fast, but I had better endurance than many. I usually did pretty well—never first place, but never last. I was usually toward the front of the pack, which was decent for a kid that hadn’t even gone through puberty or a growth spurt yet (I was a late bloomer).
For some reason, on the day this awful thing happened, it was decided that we would compete in a new open track and field event for clubs statewide. I don’t really know the details because I was a kid who didn’t pay too much attention. I just wanted to run. I only know that the age groups were really stupid and wide-open for this particular event.
Anyway, I had registered to run the 3200m that day after a run of the 4x800m relay earlier that day. My first relay went by quickly, and it was a fun race; I experienced some teamwork and fared decently well. I got back to my tent in high spirits when I heard some not-so-great news: Even though I was 14, I’d be running my second race that day in the 15–18 yr old age group.
Some bs was cited about me turning 15 years old before the end of the year was over (this was in May, by the way, and my birthday is in December). Okay, so now I was definitely nervous. Time went by in a crawl leading up to the event. I was the only one in my club with this particular age caveat, so I made my way to the staging area alone when it came time for my race.
To my immediate horror, my wiry little kid butt was going up against some freaking grown adult Kenyan-looking dudes. Not a single one of them was less than a foot taller than me, and by my guess, all of them were probably 18. I still remember feeling like a kid walking and looking up at adults and feeling like I was in the wrong place.
I swear to god, the lady who gave me my tag for the race winced when she saw me walk up to the table. We both knew what was about to happen. I just didn’t know how bad it was going to be. Anyway, the time came, and we all lined up to start. Anxiety. The signal went off, and we all started running. By the time I made it to the 100m mark, the rest were all at 150m. Frick me.
At one lap, they were already around the bend. After the second lap, I no longer saw them ahead of me. A short time later, I got lapped—the first time. While I was only just finishing lap six, the first runners were already finishing the race. I had to swing wide to go around the finishing area where people had stopped. I spent lap seven completely alone. But it gets worse.
Even more embarrassingly, the event coordinators must have thought the event was over because about 200m ahead of me, people had started putting hurdles on the track to set up for the next event. I wanted to stop right there, but I was committed at this point and more than 75% done. So, I kept going.
When people finally realized I was still on the track, they tried pulling the hurdles out of the way, but the emotional damage was already done, honestly. Slowly the crowd of people in the stands realized that there had been another runner still on the track for the last minute and a half, and even though I honestly would have rather been ignored, I guess they felt obligated to recognize that.
The last two hundred meters of that race from hell dragged on and on as the entire observing crowd of the event gave me the one and only pity clap I’ve ever received. And that is probably one of the most embarrassing things that have ever happened to me, still seared into my mind over a decade later.
You know, whether they may appreciate it or not, I have never pity clapped for anyone else ever since that moment, and I probably never will again. I know people mean well, but I also know what it felt like. Thankfully, I still kept running for the next couple of years. I eventually did hit a growth spurt, too. And nothing nearly as bad as that race ever happened again.
This girl and I went to a late-night movie that ended around 2 am. Public transit had stopped running and we didn't have a car, so we walked back to her house. Exhausted from the walk, we collapsed fully clothed on her bed and fell asleep. Three hours later her dad shakes me awake. He finds out I’m studying chemistry but only has questions on thermodynamics...really not my strongest subject.
I’m 39, and I still think about my first almost kiss; it was so awkward and embarrassing. I was 11 or 12, and we were playing spin the bottle at camp. I was a really naive little girl and didn’t quite understand what I was getting myself into. The bottle landed on me, and I stood up to kiss the older and far more experienced boy in front of me.
I essentially unhinged my jaw and opened up my mouth really wide to kiss him. He stepped back and took one look and me, and said, “No.”
I liked this boy in my art class and found out through some mutual friends that he lived a few blocks from me. So, instead of just talking to him at school like a sane person would, I decided I’d get his attention by sneaking out of my house at 4 AM with a big bag of garbage, walking all the way to his house, throwing the garbage all over his lawn, then ringing his doorbell and running back home.
The next day at school, I asked him if anything weird had happened at his house last night. When he answered, “Yeah,” I revealed that I was the one who “pranked” his family last night. He just awkwardly said, “Oh, okay.” He didn’t talk to me for a few months after that. What the heck was I thinking?
Oh, God. When I was like seven or eight, a friend of my parents had a baby. They already had a four-year-old girl too. My dad and I were watching as the other dad showed the four-year-old how to change a nappy. Note: I had recently seen the first Austin Powers movie. So I said, in my infinite wisdom, “Does that make you horny, baby? Yeah!” as the four-year-old girl was wiping her baby sister.
My dad was mortified. In hindsight, so am I.
I was 17 and working my first job (KFC), and that night I was working the front counter. Being 17, I was as high as a giraffe. This guy came in and began placing his order when midway through, he stopped and said to me, “Sir, there is a large pair of women’s panties behind you.” I immediately looked behind me and saw that there was, in fact, a large pair of women’s panties behind me.
I had washed my work uniform the night before, and some of the laundries had gotten mixed up; my mom’s underwear must have gotten stuck in my pant leg, and I never noticed. But instead of explaining this in a rational, logical way, I was so stoned that I just kind of blurted out, “Oh, it’s okay. Those are my mom’s”.
The look on this poor dude’s face said everything: He thought he was going to Kentucky Fried Chicken but somehow ended up in Alabama.
Back in middle school, my mom drove me to meet a girl at an outdoor mall to see a movie. It was an hour away and my date canceled on me fifteen minutes before. I felt so bad for my mom driving me all the way there that I pretended everything was fine. My mom dropped me off, and I watched a movie by myself. Almost cried but I kept it together.
Second date but the first time at his apartment. After a few hours, disaster struck. Normally I’d never go number two at someone’s apartment but it was an emergency. The toilet wouldn’t flush and I ended up wrapping it up in toilet paper and hiding it in my purse! I slept over and the next morning the entire apartment stunk. He never found out thankfully and blamed his roommate for the smell.
Many years ago, I was on a rickety old bus traveling across the Altiplano of Bolivia. I had a case of the runs and couldn’t hold it in. I asked the driver to stop immediately and jumped off the bus. Without a tree in sight, I squatted next to the bus and literally shat out a gallon of poop. Once the relief left my body, I suddenly made a terrible realization: I had no toilet paper. Like, not even a freaking leaf.
I glanced up to the gods and saw a busload of locals staring down at me with blank, impatient faces. Fortunately, a woman took pity and, from the window, dropped a Kleenex down that fluttered about two feet in front of me. So, like a penguin—with my pants to my knees and caca still dripping from my bum—I shuffled over to it and held it tighter than I’ve ever held anything.
After cleaning up as best as I could, I climbed back onto the bus with my head bowed, took my seat, and felt my mortified soul leave my body.
Back in high school, I was a socially awkward geek. In French class, I answered all the questions right. After my 15th question, the popular girl behind me goes cough, nerd, cough. I cough and cuss at her. The whole class gasped—I had cussed out the popular girl in class. She spits on the back of my head, and punches me in the back.
I turn around, about to spit on her, and suddenly... I get the huge urge to sneeze. Yep, you guessed it. I sneezed all over her. My snot was like a web between my nose and her face. I was sent out of the classroom, as the girl screamed and started crying. An hour later, everybody knows. On the bright side, I met the girl's big brother later that day and he fist-bumped me because she was a pain at home.
I went to visit my grandparents in Delaware when I was 15 and my grandmother drove me out to Jolly Roger's Amusement Park. She didn't go on many of the rides, so I was always going up in line alone. I was last in line for the bumper cars and of course, there were no more cars left when I got to the front. I watched people have fun for 5 minutes and as I waited, nobody else got in line behind me.
Their fun ended and it was finally my turn. The operators let me get in a car and switched the ride on. I was hoping at least one of them would ride around, too, but no...they just watched me sit there. So, I started driving in circles and ramming empty cars. Oh but wait—it gets so much worse. As this was going on, a line started building up again. I saw those people and sat there again for a bit, looking from the line to the people in charge of the ride.
Nothing. I continued to drive in circles for the longest 5 minutes of my life as the line got longer and longer. My timer ends and the cars shut off. I'm sitting there thinking I get another go since that was pretty stupid of them. Nope, they came up to me asking for more tickets. Of course, I had none left and had the saddest, loneliest walk off of one of my favorite amusement park attractions.
I was tormented by pretty much my entire class in elementary school, and I had a crush on this popular boy who treated me like dirt. On our sixth-grade field trip, we were all sitting around having lunch, and someone dared him to kiss me. He starts coming towards me and everyone is laughing and chanting like this is the most hilarious thing ever.
I grabbed my backpack and ran. My backpack wasn't zipped. All my stuff went flying. I had to turn around and go back to pick up my cassette tapes and walkman and stuff while everyone just laughed.
Let me just start this post by saying that I was not a very smart nine-year-old. There was an old wooden play set in my backyard when I was a kid. I don’t remember exactly what happened to anger my dumb nine-year-old brain, but let’s just say I fell off of the play set. Instead of dealing with the situation calmly and maturely, I decided to blame the play set itself for my own incompetence.
I decided to take my anger out on it. I grabbed a metal baseball bat that was laying close by. I put my arms above my head and swung the bat downwards towards one of the play set’s ladder rungs, as hard as I possibly could. I did not win. The metal bat came back toward me and hit me square in the middle of the forehead.
I laid there unconscious for a while and, when I woke up, I had a huge lump where my forehead used to be. That lump stayed with me for a long while after that, as a constant reminder of my defeat for the next few weeks. So yeah. I knocked myself unconscious with a metal baseball bat because I got mad at a wooden play set in my backyard...
I was on the phone with the tax office one time, and I'd been on hold for a good 20 minutes before I got overly bored. I decided I'd play my guitar to pass the time. For the next 15 minutes, I played and sang my heart out. Finally, a man took me off hold to tell me that the entire office thoroughly enjoyed my musical stylings, and that I made his day better. I had no idea they could listen to that, and had completely forgotten what I phoned the tax office for.
I went camping with some friends once and we ate some shrooms. At one point, I had to go to the bathroom, so I went to find the bathroom on the campground, did my business, and went back to our campsite. I grabbed a drink from the cooler and it was Bud Light and I thought that was weird because I don't drink Bud Light and neither do any of my friends, but I just wanted something cold in my mouth so I didn't care.
I sat down at the fire and started drinking. I realized everybody had gone quiet and was staring at me. First I was like "Why aren't you guys talking? Did I do something?" then "Why are you staring at me like that??" then it clicked "OH MY GOD YOU'RE NOT MY FRIENDS WHERE AM I?" I went to the wrong campsite and just plopped my tripping butt down at the fire with a family of four.
They just looked horrified. I'll never forget the look on their faces. This was years ago so maybe the kids are on Reddit now, if so and you're reading this, I'm sorry for ruining your camping trip.
The last time I was at my doctor's office, I was kept waiting in the exam room for a really long time. Like long enough to go through all three magazines in the room. Eventually, severe boredom set in and I started looking for other things to do to pass the time. There was a scale in the corner of the room, so I thought, “What the heck? Let’s weigh some stuff!”
I started with my shoes, and eventually moved on to the magazines and my clothes. When I ran out of personal stuff, I surveyed the room and decided that I would like to know how much a chair weighed. So, I picked up the doctor’s huge chair and placed it on the scale to investigate. This was the exact moment when the doctor and her resident decided to enter the room. There I am, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and socks, balancing a chair on a scale for no apparent reason…
At least I was able to satisfy my curiosity!
I pooped in my pants at the mall as a six year old girl. I had accidentally farted in the shoe store, and my sister thought that this was absolutely hilarious. "Again!" she exclaimed, as I forced a follow-up fart out. In complete stitches now, "Again!" she cackled. I complied with another loud one. She was laughing so hard that she was nearly in tears.
She shouted: "Again!!!!!!" This turned out to be a request that we would all regret. The point of no return in what was already a horribly unpleasant situation for anyone else around us. Although I no longer had any gas in me, I pushed as hard as I could, determined to make my sister laugh even harder than she already had at this point.
Then, a moment too late, I realized that I was in the process of pooping myself. I can only assume that my sister would have been filming this whole incident on her iPhone, had they been available back in the 1990s. I’m pretty glad that they weren’t. I never would have been able to live that moment down if it had gone on the internet for everyone to see.
I was about 10 and going to a daycare, and it was pretty late because my dad tended to not care much about picking me up on time. Me and this kid were two of the last five or so kids to get picked up, and I was really bored and I wanted to play "dinosaurs" or something. So I went t-rex mode and started snarling around and such, but he didn't want to play and I just kept doing it. I don't know why, but I ended up biting him on his...private area.
The kid had to go into the bathroom, one with two doors and three toilets, but it was unisex essentially, and have his junk checked out by this enormous fat lady and another who was probably 60 years old. His balls were apparently red/irritated...because I bit them. The next day, the guy's older sister was berating me. I, like the genius child I was, threatened to do the same to her.
Here's one thing I hate about grocery store lines: They're all separate. I would much prefer that everyone wait in a single line and move to the next available cashier, like in customs. We all know how much we hate waiting in line and seeing everyone around us go much, much quicker. Well, I was having a particularly bad day, and I chose a particularly slow line in the grocery store. Ridiculously slow.
The lines that were twice as long were sailing through, and I wasn't moving at all. Then, I realized the problem. A horrible cashier was taking his sweet time, swiping groceries through one at a time, using only one hand. He didn't care. It was some teenager with a scowl on his face, probably forced to work there by his parents. Finally, I'd had enough.
I snapped, "This line is huge! Things would go a lot quicker if you used two hands." The two people in front of me turned and stared with looks of horror and disgust. Finally, the cashier, with a totally blank look on his face, turned toward me as well. His left arm had been amputated at the shoulder.
I was in a choir when I was a kid. On one occasion, I had an upset stomach, so I was lying down while everyone else was practicing their vocal exercises. The adults all thought that I was faking the illness to get out of having to practice, so eventually they made me get up and sing with everyone. My worst nightmare happened immediately after.
A few minutes later, I puked all over another kid’s head. They let me go home after that.
Ran downstairs to get a shirt and bra off the clothes drying rack in my basement one morning, only to find my sister's boyfriend on the floor where he had spent the night. Completely topless, I pulled the, "Maybe if I'm really quiet, he won't notice I'm here." After successfully getting through the door to my laundry freedom, I get a robe and a wink for Christmas about a month later. Fail.
I recently had a sore throat and, when trying to get a good look at it in the mirror, I noticed these large, pink spots, all over the very back of my tongue. I spent a week fretting over it, wondering what they were and why they weren't going away. Finally, my mom and I got worried enough about them that she went with me to my doctor.
Upon examining my throat and tongue, my doctor pronounced that what I was seeing was...my taste buds. I have never seen my doctor, who is an incredibly stoic man, smile so wide before. He clearly thought that this whole thing was hilarious. I was totally embarrassed. My family is never going to let me live this one down.
I was working at my first job at an ice cream shop. A customer's order came out to $7.50 and he handed me cash. I counted a Lincoln and four Washingtons. Perplexed as to why he'd handed me $9 for $7.50, I asked, "Keep the change?" He looked at me like I had three heads. Then, he got this sympathetic, condescending look on his face as if I was dumb. "Uh... I guess so?" he said.
I looked down again and realized he had handed me $8. I tried to explain that I had miscounted, but he interrupted me by saying, "No, no. That's fine. Keep it—help put you through college." Just the pure condescending tone made me feel like a complete idiot. I still think about it sometimes and cringe.
I had, and still have, terrible eyesight. I always had to wear glasses as a kid, as did both my younger brother and my younger sister. One of the times my cousin visited us, he said he wanted to wear glasses too, so he asked us for an idea that could make him need glasses. My suggestion was horrific. I told him to try peeing in his eyes, as it would probably make things blurry.
My cousin then proceeded to emit a vertical stream of urine into his own face, successfully having the better part of it land in his eyes. He never got glasses, and this incident is still brought up at almost every family gathering we have. Oh, and I once, at a very young age, told my even younger brother there was chocolate in the yard left by our dachshunds.
It was not chocolate, and I knew it. Yet another thing that is still brought up at almost every family gathering. Looking back, I was a pretty bad kid...
Back when I was a young lassie, I was once trying to impress my crush by showing him how high I could kick. In the process of doing so, I accidentally slipped and broke my wrist. It was pretty darn embarrassing. I’d say my attempt to impress him failed pretty drastically, and if social media had been around back then the video definitely would have made the rounds.
I went to the hospital when I was a teenager and my doctor was a rather attractive young lady. She had to check me for testicular cancer. The room was curtained off and my parents were waiting right on the other side, fully within earshot. The doctor was looking away when I pulled my pants down and she said, "Oh my gosh," in an annoyed voice when she turned to find me pantsless.
I thought I had done something wrong and said sorry. As it turned out, the removal of my pants hadn't been what had annoyed her. It was that her beeper had gone off. I guess she had been extremely busy. Now, the story isn't too embarrassing at face value, until you realize that my parents could hear but not see this short exchange.
I don't want to imagine what they thought had just caused a pubescent teenager to have to apologize to an attractive doctor while she was examining his privates…
I had an oral examination board when I was in the Navy during which I just completely froze up and forgot almost everything I knew about what I was getting examined on. I could barely get a coherent string of words out. It was three hours of me just sitting there dumb whilst my Captain and two more of my superior officers just asked me questions I couldn't answer whilst looking at me like I was the stupidest man alive.
It was excruciating and the most spectacular failure of my whole life. I'd spent months preparing and it just looked like I'd done no work for it at all. Suffice to say, my performance was so bad I got carpeted and did not get a second chance. I had no idea what happened to me, I could answer most of the questions now, no sweat. I ended up leaving the Navy very soon after that.
That was about six years ago. I couldn't care less about not being in the Navy anymore, it was the right choice for me and I'm more than happy with what I do now, but hoo boy, just thinking about that interview is enough to make my skin crawl.
When I was giving birth to my second child, I was determined to not have a bowel movement. I even took an enema to help prevent this from happening. It did clean me out as intended, however, it also caused the worst gas that I had ever had in my life. I had an epidural, so I couldn't really feel anything. By the time I was ready to push, I figured the gas had already passed...Boy, was I wrong.
I let the doctor know I was ready and he went right down there "in the danger zone." He timed my contractions and let me know when it was time for a good push. I pushed with all my baby delivering might and inadvertently ripped the biggest, longest fart I have ever heard. Right in his face. I saw his hair literally blow back. The fact that he was young and attractive didn’t exactly make me feel any better about it…
When I was 10, my dad had his co-workers over to our house with their families for a Christmas party. My mom was doing the whole hostess thing and had been stressed out. I went to use the bathroom in the middle of the party and it stunk something fierce. Being 10 and a social idiot, I then walked out into the big room with the party going on and yelled while waving my hands in a smelly motion "WHEWW, WHO MADE THE BATHROOM STINK SO BAD?!"
I can still picture my poor horrified and embarrassed mom's face when admitting it was her.
When I was about six or seven years old, I was once wearing overalls and standing in the foyer of my house. Suddenly, I had a massive urge to take a poop. Although the washroom was literally just a few feet away, a bizarre urge overtook me that I couldn't resist. I started to stand still and take a poop right then and there.
The log slithered out of my underwear and rolled down my pant leg, straight onto the floor. I looked at it, walked away, and then acted like nothing ever happened. No shame.
When I was around 14 years old, I used to play videogames all day. So, my mother made me go to a group therapy for gaming addicted people. So we made our way there and I entered a room full of people at least twice my age. After I stepped inside, the door was locked. This was to have a secure location to talk. That’s when it hit me. The German term for "gaming addiction" can refer to gambling as well.
So, here I was, 14 years old and in a room full of people who have lost their possessions/family over a severe gambling addiction that had ruined their lives and they made me talk about my gaming addiction. Lots of fun!
A couple of years ago I was at a popular piano bar with my friend for her birthday. We were sitting in the very front by the pianos and there were about 200 people in the bar at the time. I went to the restroom and when I came back, the piano players called me over. I danced with them and my backside was facing the audience. When I sat down these two random women come over to me. They said the worst thing possible: "Your dress is tucked into your underpants."
I had been dancing with my bum hanging out the whole time.
The first time my girlfriend and I went out on a date, we went mini-golfing. Wanting to be the awesome cool new boyfriend and assert my dominance, I jumped across a river and made it. On my attempt to jump back, the rock I was stepping on slipped and I fell sideways into the river. My white shorts were dyed blue along with my shirt and half of my body. I ran through the mini-golf course, jumped over the fence to the parking lot, and waited in my car until my girlfriend could stop laughing enough to get in the car.
When I was studying to become a dentist, I was shadowing a doctor in the Emergency Room for a couple of weekends as part of my education in general medicine. Well, late one Saturday, a young girl, around 18 years of age I think, comes in with her parents because of the severe stomach pains that she was experiencing.
The doctor asks a few questions and then asks the girl to take off her pants and lay down on her side. The doctor then puts on a glove and shoves a finger up the girl's butt. I had seen this before, standard procedure, but never with a cute girl as the receiver. So I was already feeling a bit embarrassed by that point.
But it soon got so much worse. While this is going on, the girl’s father turns to me and asks me how many years I've got left until I'm a doctor. My response was, "Well umm, I'm actually studying to become a dentist." He gave me the most awkward look I have ever received in my life, clearly wondering why I was even there to begin with. Really made me feel I was at the wrong end of things…
I was about six or seven when I realized that rubbing myself on one of those giant exercise balls felt really good. I told my cousin and he tried it, but said it didn't feel good and that I was a liar. Later that year I remember we were play fighting and then somehow I ended up rubbing up on him in the same fashion. Our parents pulled us apart. I hope with everything in me that he does not remember this. Also, I am female. Ugh.
When I was about 12 years old, I had to go to the hospital to have my appendix taken out. It was the first operation of any kind that I had ever undergone and I was very nervous. The doctor had asked me to tell him or a nurse when I passed gas. I guess this would be a sign that my bowels were starting to wake up from the anesthesia or whatever.
Well, I woke up late at night that evening and passed gas. I saw a guy in white passing by, so I called him over and said, "Excuse me, I just passed gas." With a confused expression on his face, he said "Okay. Well, you should probably tell a nurse." He then continued mopping the floor. Yes, that’s right. I needlessly announced my flatulence to the janitor.
My most embarrassing childhood memory is of the time when I pooped on the floor between arcade games at the age of seven. But it's why I did it that's the most mortifying. I did so knowingly, because I didn’t want to lose my place in line to play “Gauntlet.” I guess I didn’t think that anyone would notice what I was up to. I was wrong. People did notice. And I lost my place in line, permanently…
First physical of my life. I drop my pants and the doctor says turn your head and cough. For some odd reason that I cannot quite understand, I thought he said turn your head and crawl. I cannot explain the levels of confusion and awkwardness that followed when I started to nonchalantly crawl around on the floor of his office…
When I was a 12-year-old boy, I was swimming on the beach in Point Pleasant, New Jersey one summer afternoon. I was out pretty far into the water and I thought nobody was around. Anyways, as I swam, I invented a random tune in my head. I emerged from the water and proudly sang my song loudly: "ONCE... A PRINCESS... AL-WAYS A PRINCESS!!!"
I sang it loud. I sang it to the Gods. I sang it to Gaia and Mother Earth! I sang it to the 15-year-old guy treading water five feet away from me, who proceeded to give me the most quintessential, “weirded-out” face I've ever seen. I swam there, mortified for a moment before diving into the water and getting as far away as possible.
I was in the lobby of a guesthouse in Thailand waiting for our car to pick us up. The manager was a tiny lady who was standing with us and she had been so lovely to us during our stay. She spoke very little English, but when the car pulled up, she raised her arms up to me as I stood up and I assumed that she wanted a hug from me so I obliged, even though I recalled it was impolite to hug a Thai person.
As it turns out, she was gesturing for me to pull the cord on the ceiling fan in order to turn the fan on, because she couldn't reach it and I was tall enough. It was so awkward.
I found my dad's illicit VHS tape stash and took one of them around sixth grade....for learning and stuff. Anyway, I dropped it on the hardwood floor and busted the flap off when I went to put it back. I placed it back in the closet anyway. It was gone the next day, and he looked at me funny at the dinner table the next night...I always cringe thinking about this.
I once had a stomach bug back in middle school and the freaking nurse didn’t believe me. I may have cried wolf a couple of times before, which didn’t exactly help my case. I suffered through school all day until finally, my last period arrived. We were taking a test and I asked my teacher if I could step out to go to the bathroom. Before I could finish speaking, the worst happened.
I projectile vomited right over her shoulder and mostly into the trash can. The jock in the class was like, “Woah, your throw up looks like Sprite!” And even in my stupor I was like, “What the heck?” My teacher then made a girl walk me to the nurse with the soiled trash bin, and the girl was actually super cool about it. She told me not to be embarrassed and took my mind off it by talking about horses.
I was wearing a long dress on an escalator at an airport and it got stuck in the stairs. The gears were pulling in my dress and I was fighting like heck to pull it back out. The escalator was eating my dress and my underpants were rapidly being exposed. I am looking around and start seeing people looking at me in horror. But it got even worse.
When I finally got the dress out, I hobbled to my gate I realized that the waiting area that witnessed my incident was the seating area for my flight. Everyone I'd be spending the next nine hours with saw it happen.
When I was a pretty young kid, around 12 or 13 years old I think, I had some weird stomach issues going on. They found some odd results with an X-Ray and told me that they wanted to do this pretty intense procedure on me to check my body out. So, I go into this room, and they tell me that they're going to put a hose in my butt and fill my intestines with a milky liquid.
I looked terrified, and my doctor asked me what was wrong. To try and seem more mature, I told him that it sounded painful but that I was also very ticklish. I thought this was a great excuse to get around admitting that I was just shy about my body. He told me not to worry about it, as the procedure wasn't as bad as it sounded. So a female doctor starts to shove this thing in 13-year-old me's butt and I start awkwardly fake giggling. And then laughing. And then crying.
I was 14 years old and at a basketball game. I had bought a raffle ticket to win the $10,000 half-court shot at halftime. My number was drawn and I remember trying to get my dad to do it for me, but he pressured me into walking down to the court. With thousands of people watching me in the audience, and x amount of people from home, I took the half-court shot...and I air-balled about 10 feet to the left and five feet over the backboard…
It was the longest walk in the world back up the stands and into the seats where my dad was laughing maniacally at me...It was worth adding that my childhood crush of four years was there with me because her dad and my dad worked together...that whole walk back I thought of the people laughing. I knew I'd have to sit another half of the game with her thinking I had no coordination.
A few years ago, I was good friends with the lead singer of an internationally renowned indie band. We had a falling out. A few months later, their next album came out, with a very suspicious song on it that ripped lines from emails this singer sent me and seemed to make fun of me. After two years of not speaking and stewing about this awful song, I sent them an email while intoxicated, vehemently accusing them of writing such a nasty song about me.
Their reply made me want to crawl into a hole. "That was about my ex-girlfriend. I have no idea how you'd think it was about you." I was so mortified I didn't reply and never told anyone.
This is kind of a sad example of an embarrassing childhood moment, but before my grandmother’s body was buried when she passed, one of my aunts kneeled and put her hands on top of her casket to pray. My grandma's casket had a clear window at the top of it. I was around nine years old at the time, and I saw what my aunt was doing, so I wanted to copy her and do the same thing.
I wanted to pray for her as well, so I got down and tried to do the same thing that I saw my aunt doing. Everything crashed down from there. When my elbows were on top of the casket, the glass shattered in front of the whole family and I cried, thinking I had disgraced my nana's memory. The moment was pretty emotionally scarring.
When I was 14 and almost always thought with my junk, I decided it would be great to pleasure myself with protection on. I liked how it felt and did it all the time for about a week. They also happened to be my dad’s condoms, so, long story short—my mom realizes that so many are missing and thinks my father is having an affair.
She comes crying to me about it and my initial reaction is to deny any speculation that I used them. After realizing that this may end my parent’s marriage, I ran upstairs and with tears coming from my eyes I explained to my mom that I used them, not for intercourse, but for self-pleasure. I cried for an hour.
The first time I met my ex-girlfriend's parents and family, it was Thanksgiving, and the PS2 had just come out. I went over; we were having dinner and her whole family was there celebrating. Her dad and I start talking. He says he is a big gamer and would love to try it, so I go and get it from my house (I just lived a few miles down the road) along with my VCR because their TV was old and it was the only way the PS2 would work.
So, he starts playing M2K or something. Then about an hour into the session, my ex's little sister is sitting next to the VCR I brought, and accidentally hits play with her foot. This causes the VCR to play a tape, beginning my waking nightmare: the tape happened to be an adult film I left in. Up pops a nude girl on screen—right in front of my ex’s grandmother, little children of the family, mom, everyone. Her dad just says, "God darn satellite!" and tries turning it off with the remote.
I wait a second, probably a little too long, (I could not move from shock) and shamefully get up and walk over to the VCR to turn it off. Her dad says, "Wait was that yours?” Embarrassed as heck, I say, "yep." Everyone laughed and she was so angry, but I ended up being with her for three years so it must have not bothered her dad too bad.
One time, I was at the doctor’s office having a lump on my private area checked. I described said lump to the doctor and he went about trying to locate it himself. I was lying down at this stage, staring at the ceiling while he felt around trying to find it. After about a minute of him fumbling, he admitted defeat and asked me to find it for him.
So I sat up and started to jumble myself around in my hands. I was hunched over and he wasn't more than a foot away, staring intently at me, when suddenly a gust of wind blew the door wide open. Just then, a nurse walked past the door and caught a complete view of the situation. That was some awkward eye contact between us…
This was during hide and seek during a family party. 12-year-old me decided to hide in the bathtub. I pulled the shower doors closed and waited. Nobody found me, but within two or three minutes, my aunt came in to take a leak. She didn't notice me, I kept quiet for too long. I had to commit! The sound of her pee trickle still haunts me. Oh god, why…
When I was in middle school, I had just started getting my period. Unfortunately, at the time, I didn't know that I had very heavy and long periods, which would later cause me to get anemia. One day, before I go to school, my period comes and I have absolutely no pads. So, my dumb middle school self decides to just stuff some toilet paper in my underwear to line it and I should be fine.
Yeah, well, I was wrong so, so wrong. Not even the first class passes and I'm leaking. Bad. Oblivious me doesn't really realize this until I get up from my seat and see a giant red stain. I ran out of that classroom so fast and called my mom to come pick me up. I cried for about the rest of the day as my mom tried to console me. Ugh, even thinking of it now sucks.
I'm not sure exactly how young I was at the time, but at some point when I was a kid, my family was on a road trip. During said road trip, my dad had done something to thoroughly get under my skin. I don’t remember what it was exactly, but we were both pretty upset about it and he wanted to fix the situation so that it wouldn’t ruin our enjoyment of the rest of the trip.
He asked how he could make it up to me, and I still to this day cannot explain or forget the response that I gave. I guess I had just heard the expression “family jewels” for the first time on some show, and I had no idea what it meant. So, for no good reason, I told my dad that he could make it up to me by passing on the family jewels to me.
I literally thought there were actually jewels somewhere that every family had hidden away or something along those lines. I didn't have any clue that I was asking for my dad’s you-know-whats. I will never forget the look on his face for as long as I live. Nor will I ever forget the level of embarrassment I felt when I realized what I had inadvertently said.
In fifth grade, I was in a school musical production where in one song I was the "boogie woogie reindeer," and during the song I was supposed to dance. Well, I ruined it in the most embarrassing way imaginable. My mom had just shown me the movie Coyote Ugly, so I thought the best course of action was to dance like the girls in that movie.
I'm sure there's still a home video out there somewhere of the fifth grade boy dancing like a stripper…
This wasn't me, but one time my friend, who's an actor, was onstage for the final performance of a show he was in. His pants were about six sizes too big, and they didn't want him to wear a belt so they had bobby-pinned his pants. That last night, the bobby pins had apparently mostly fallen off, and his pants fell down. No big problem, he was playing a hobo, so he could have just picked them up and held them for the rest of his time onstage... too bad they took his boxers with them. He was naked from the waist down. His parents and his girlfriend were watching.
I made the mistake of moving over the holidays last year. I was emptying out my bedside dresser of clothes and whatnot. My top drawer had two large open boxes of rubbers inside. I stuffed ribbons of protection into my pockets and left. Lo and behold, I'm involved in a major car accident on my way to the new house.
One short ambulance ride later, I'm in a private Emergency Room with just a nurse, my girlfriend, and myself. My girlfriend had to remove my pants. But first, she had to remove everything from the pockets. So there she is, glaring at me as she pulls more than thirty ribbons of rubbers out of my pocket in front of the nurse. I swear, it looked like a magic trick. They just wouldn't stop coming out…
I was introduced to a Russian musician as "This is Rachmaninov, haha," and I said, "You're a lot shorter in real life!" because Rachmaninov was famed for being about 6'6', this guy was about 5'4. We all knew he was offended, but my intention was to make a conversational tidbit about Rachmaninov and not just rip on this guy for being short. I couldn't do anything to salvage that lead balloon!
I was at a party when a girl wanted to dance with me and I didn't know what to do because: a) I'm a bad dancer, and b) I really liked her. She was really good and I had no idea what to do. Everyone was crowding around and watching us and a kid mimed to me "break dance." So, I got down on my knees and started swinging my legs around under my arms and did a handstand. It was heaps of fun and everyone was laughing at me, not with me.
When I was in high school, I was sitting with my ex-girlfriend before class started. I was building a motorcycle in auto shop and brought a large chrome-plated castle nut to school with me to finish attaching the wheel to the frame...Well, we were goofing around and I thought it would be cute if I slid the lug nut onto her ring finger. Then, after the novelty wore off, it quickly dawned upon me that this won't slide off.
The threads of the nut were tearing her skin every time we pulled, like a sadistic Chinese finger trap. So first, I went to my shop teacher and we tried to use motor oil to get it off...a painful and un-fruitful venture which only led to me being insulted by my favorite teacher. So, I had to go with her to the principal's office and explain what happened.
Then, she went to the hospital. I went with her and watched as the fire department cut this super hard lug nut off her hand while all the firefighters laughed and insulted me. The nut kept heating up and burning the skin because metal gets very hot when being cut so this lasted quite a while.
I'm a girl. One time, many years ago, we were in New Orleans for a college organization conference. I worked in a department at the college I went to and we took some students with us. It was the weekend after Mardi Gras, so things were still pretty rowdy on Bourbon Street. I was newly 21 and there were a couple of 18-year-old girls with us, so I thought it was the responsible thing to stay sober.
I was doing my best to watch after the girls and make sure that they didn’t get themselves into any kind of trouble. It pretty much sucked. I was trying to wrangle one of them by her belt loop when the other talked the door guy into letting her into a strip club. With no other choice, the rest of us reluctantly followed in after her.
The 18-year-old who had dragged us in was having the time of her life, with lap dances and all, and embarrassingly laughing her butt off. My boss is in the back trying to find some way around the whole thing. I'm sober and being grumpy, just waiting for the night to be over with. A woman asks if I can join her on stage to play along with a strip tease or something and she says she'll get me a drink if I do.
Against my better judgement, I said yes. After all the stress I was under, I needed one! So, I obliged. She walks me on stage and sits me down on a chair. She proceeds to take her clothing off and give me a lap dance, and I'm oooing and aaahing in front of everyone. I’m making a huge deal out of showing how much I love her various body parts because I'm all in for getting this darn free drink.
Then, she grabs my thighs and throws my legs to the side, full on spreadeagle. It all unraveled at that point. The buttons down the back of my pencil skirt immediately rip right off. Now, as unlucky as I was, it just so happened that on this particular day, I was wearing zero underwear. My private area was on full display to the entire club.
Everyone began hootin' and hollerin'. Finally, the performer finishes her show. I rush off of the stage, trying to pull my skirt down enough past my butt, and trying to button back up whatever is left of it. Completely mortified, I get my free drink. My boss is in the back, just shaking his head, laughing, and he motions me to come over.
He says, "Hey, buddy. Me and you just bonded. I just saw your freakin’ beaver." The weekend goes on. My cohort lovingly nicknames me Beaver, which eventually evolved to Beazy. I later hooked up with a guy from another school, and left with the nickname Sleazy Beazy from the Big Easy. I tend to think of this extremely embarrassing incident as the end of my childhood and my formal welcome into the adult world.
A couple years ago, I threw a party at my home. One couple that I invited had just gotten into the swinger/polyamorous lifestyle, but hadn't really figured out the "do's and don'ts" of bringing it up in conversation. Instead, they were pitching it and themselves to everyone like they were selling Amway. They were insanely explicit, and they kept trying to get people to skinny dip in the middle of the day. It was painful to watch. Oh, and if anyone is curious, they just filed for divorce.
My most embarrassing childhood moment was probably that time that I went into school with my pants smelling of damp. I actually didn't know that not drying out clothes properly would cause such a putrid odor. I thought my mom had washed them with my dad's socks. So, I sprayed what may as well have been a full can’s worth of lynx on them and just went into school.
Wow. The smell was even worse than I ever could have imagined, and way worse than it would have been if I had just left them without spraying the fragrance. Walking down the corridor, I heard someone scream “OMG, WHAT'S THAT SMELL?” and I instantly knew it was me. I ended up pretending to be ill and going home at break time, which wasn't soon enough.
I will always be thankful to that office lady for letting me go even though I clearly was just leaving because of my smelly pants.
I used to wear glasses, hearing aids, braces, and had severe cystic acne. My doctor put me on Accutane (for the acne) and it made my face insanely dry. One day a few weeks after starting the medication, my friend made me laugh hard in class—it cracked the skin on my cheeks and my face bled in the shape of my smile like Heath Ledger's joker scar. I was an abomination.
One time, I was getting a checkup at the doctor’s office. I went to the bathroom and peed in the cup, put it on the little counter thing they had, went back into the room, and waited for a very long time until the doctor finally showed up like thirty minutes later. She told me "You have protein in your urine." I immediately blurted out, "Probably because I slept with someone last night!"
Unsure of why I had said that and visibly confused, she awkwardly replied, "I'll mark that down in your chart. Congratulations!" She was trying hard not to laugh. I felt like a complete idiot. But, in the moment, I had legitimately assumed that this fact might somehow make a difference in the results of my urine tests.
At my work Christmas party last month, five of my colleagues sang "Happy Xmas" while a sixth accompanied them on guitar. The guitarist was fantastic, the group as a whole sounded passable, but then one of them soloed on the "war is over / if you want it" part. She did it very loudly, way above her vocal range. We're talking falsetto territory here, with her eyes closed and emoting all the way.
It was just...excruciating. To make matters even worse, afterward, she kind of hung around the stage area smiling at people, like she was waiting for everyone to rush up to her and tell her what an accomplished singer she was. Most of us rushed to the door.
One of my high school friends is a bit interesting, to say the least. He wanted to make friends and was quite an avid anime watcher. I remember him going up to a girl in high school doing the whole "bowing" with a love letter behind the school gym kinda cliche. He walks up to her bows and at the top of his lungs says, "Will you please be my friend?"
The girl turns around and pulls out her headphones. She's confused and stunned. "Why is this boy bowing?" He then runs away.
I had a crush on a girl back in 10th grade. We flirted with each other and she told me via MSN that she would like a hug when she came back to school (she was sick for like two weeks straight). So, when the day came, I hugged her. It was super awkward. I hugged her for like a minute straight, and she calmly asked if I would let go of her. That minute felt like an eternity and felt embarrassing as heck.
After 11 years it still makes me cringe when I think about it.
So I needed a physical. Needless to say, this is definitely one of the most awkward moments of any incoming freshman's first high school experiences. I walk into the office and do all the routine work. I pee in a cup, weigh myself, provide my height, etc. Then, the doctor comes in to check for a hernia. Nothing out of the ordinary so far.
So I pull down my pants and the doctor checks my private area. He then looks up at me and says, "You know, you have extremely large privates. I don't think I have seen any this big in a very long time." He continued to make casual chit chat about my size for the remainder of the checkup. Nothing in my life ever feels awkward now, because that moment always takes the cake.
I used to wait tables. During a busy Sunday post-church lunch rush, I had to make a sundae for a table in the very back corner of the restaurant. I get to the table and the entire party starts laughing. I'm standing there holding the sundae, super confused. I look down and realize that I had somehow managed to get a large amount of whipped cream directly over my crotch while preparing the sundae. It was nowhere else on me. Just my crotch.
All I could do was put the sundae down, say, "Oh my gosh!" and speed walk back through the entire restaurant to clean myself up.
I once went to the gynecologist’s office to get this stinky smell checked out. As they were checking me, they discovered the source of the smell—and it was worse than I had ever imagined. They found a feminine hygiene product still up there in my body from the previous month. I had allowed a medical student to observe. This experience was pretty mortifying, even though I’m not usually a shy person.
I was about 15, getting intoxicated with some friends outdoors and I went to pee behind a bush. I lowered my pants and crouched down, but mid-pee I noticed that I was peeing on my jeans. They were soaking wet, and of course, I didn't have any other clothes with me. My adolescent, intoxicated brain decided it was best just to go back home without telling anyone, leave all my things behind and walk for more than half an hour smelling of urine.
I really don't remember what explanation I gave my friends afterward.
My significant other and I were meeting some old friends of hers who were in town for a day or two. I say "in town," but they were about an hour and change south of us. We met at a restaurant after a bit of a drive. Now, it was a hot day and my air conditioning was on the fritz, so it makes sense that I was thirsty. What doesn't make sense is that at some point after we got there, I just started drinking this dude's coke like it was mine.
It was kind of in front of me, I guess, but I hadn't ordered a soda. I had no reason to assume it was mine. They'd never met me, so it's not like I knew them and I knew it was cool. Nobody said a word the whole time. I realized I had been doing it when the waitress came around and asked for our drink orders. Best first impression ever.
I will never forget the time I got my period for the first time at the tender age of 11. It was like something out of a nightmare. Someone pointed out that there was blood on my skirt and I didn’t yet know what that could possibly mean. I went to the bathroom to see what was happening and immediately ran out screaming that I was dying. Everyone around me saw. Good timesss!
My poor, poor OB/GYN. He's a younger, very awesome male doctor and, as a result of this, is very calm and soothing to his patients, making sure to over-explain anytime he comes in contact with a patient. It's very adorable actually. I had totally forgotten that I had an annual exam with him and had some pretty rough bedroom activity a day or two before.
I get into the room and the nurse instructs me to undress and put on the paper gown as usual. As I was undressing, I looked down and remembered that my breasts were black and blue and that part of the exam is the breast exam. The look of horror on the doctor’s face when he pulled my gown away still remains unparalleled.
He asked me in a concerned voice if it was going to hurt me to do the exam and I had to fight back the laugh when responding. He then did a very fast and light breast exam before getting really fascinated with one of the bite marks he spotted. He started to comment on it and then quickly replaced my top and moved on with the exam.
When I was in the first grade, we used to have square dance lessons. Anyways, the teacher used to pick a random person to allow them to choose whatever partner they wanted from the class. I had a massive crush on this girl named Ashley and this particular time, the teacher picked me as the first person to pick a partner. I was FINALLY going to be able to dance with Ashley! I was pumped—but it turned into a nightmare.
As I began to look at the girls standing across the room, I made eye contact with Ashley. She was staring at me too. Unfortunately, she was staring at me so that she could make direct eye contact and mouth out the word "NO" while shaking her head no as well. I was already walking toward her and started saying her name by the time I realized she wanted nothing to do with me.
At this point, I am standing in the middle of the floor by myself, having said the word "Ashl..." And the rest of the girls, about 25 of them start to do the same thing she was doing, shaking their heads no. Literally no one wanted me to choose them. So instead of choosing, I told the teacher someone else could pick first. When she insisted I pick first, I picked the ugliest girl there so that no one else there would have to dance with me. So that sucked.
In my first ever middle school health class, we were talking about what happens when you go through puberty, starting with girls. A girl from the back of the room raises her hand and says: "You get breasts." To my eternal shame, I raised my hand and asked the dumbest question ever. "What are breasts?" The whole class stared at me in shock.
To explain, I was very isolated as a child. We had no television at home, and the word "breast" just simply wasn't in my family’s vocabulary. Plus, this was shortly after I had switched schools and learned the language of my new community. But let's not kid ourselves, if this had happened today, it would have been all over social media regardless.
I was staying at a nice hotel while traveling for work. They had a great pool. I went in there one morning and I was the only one there. I started messing about, recreating the opening scene of Jaws where the girl realizes that her leg has been bitten off, then lots of splashing like the shark had come back for the second go. Then I tried a bit of synchro, kicking my legs up in various shapes.
Then I did a bit of goalkeeper practice by throwing my goggles and diving to catch them. Then I saw a window overlooking the pool and a family of six people eating breakfast and watching me. I'm a 51-year-old man.
I was doing this self-help wacky hypnosis thing to lose weight, and part of it involved reciting affirmations to yourself (I am strong. I can be thin, etc.). I was in the men's room at my office, which had separate areas for the sinks and stalls/urinals, in front of the mirror doing my thing for several minutes, when suddenly there was a flush and my coworker walked out looking kind of sheepish. We never spoke of it.
This happened at the pharmacy at my doctor's office. I had just had a wisdom tooth removed, and a stubborn one at that. I had it removed in the morning and I was feeling good, not sick or anything for most of the day. But by the time the next day rolled around, I was the sickest I had ever been. Everything I did made me vomit, even just moving more than a few feet around.
The dentist didn't think to prescribe me any antibiotics or anything, so I had to call him up to let him know how sick I was. He told me that he would call in the order and that I could pick the medication up at the pharmacy in the hospital down the street. The only problem was that they were closing in just ten minutes.
I rushed to get there and somehow made it with two minutes to spare. I celebrated—but I had no idea what was coming. As they were getting my prescription ready, that sick feeling happened. I ended up vomiting three times on their counter, right before they closed. The women were shocked and I kept apologizing, but I couldn't stop.
I left with my prescription feeling ashamed and embarrassed, and also terrible that they would have to clean it up before they could go home.
A couple of years ago, I was really depressed and I ate my feelings often. So, one day, I went to the grocery store—but I didn't realize I was there at prime time rush hour for families coming home from work. Anyways, I filled up a basket with a bunch of bread and donuts and ice cream and candy and stuff. I felt really embarrassed about all the stuff I got so I "talked on my phone" and made it look like I was bringing home stuff for a bunch of other people.
When I got to the checkout line, the lady behind me was staring at me like I'm disgusting with all the stuff I was buying. So, I very loudly talk into my phone about why I have all this food, and I start putting my stuff on the conveyor belt and my phone rings, like REALLY loudly while I'm supposedly talking into it. The cashier started laughing, everyone in line behind me started laughing. I wanted to die.
The bag boy asked if my friends would prefer paper or plastic. I turned really red and almost started crying and then just paid for my food and left. It was probably the worst moment of my life so far.
Oh boy. My boyfriend will KILL me if he ever knew I posted this. It’s bad but HILARIOUS. The whole day was chaos. I was on my period and emotional and wanted pizza more than anything on Earth. I literally cried when we got to the pizza place and they said they needed to cook my pizza and it would take 30 minutes. I wanted a Sbarro-type place with ready-made slices.
So after my meltdown, we got on the plane, pizza-less, and I naturally needed a nap after crying. Well, the reason we didn’t get pizza is that my boyfriend needed to drink a bunch of pints with his brother who was going to a different airport than us. Understandable, drink with your brother, but make sure you get your crazy girlfriend pizza. Anyway, I slept hard.
Then I woke up to the pilot saying we’re on our final descent and fasten seatbelts, yadda yadda. I was at the window, my boyfriend was in the middle, and there was a stranger on the aisle. Correction, my boyfriend was supposed to be in the middle. In reality, he was gone. I assumed he was in the bathroom, so I looked to the front and back at the overhead signs and they both said the bathroom was free.
I was thinking “Where is he then?!” Panicking, I was looking front to back as the ground was getting closer. I asked the stranger, “Where is he?!” And he says, “He went to the bathroom like 30 minutes ago.” Even the male flight attendant knew he wasn’t in his seat, so they checked the bathrooms. The ground is getting closer, here comes my boyfriend. He sits down just in time for landing.
He smells godawful. I was like “God you stink. What’s wrong?” His response made my blood run cold. In the most serious voice, he says “Stop. We’ll talk later.” I literally cannot breathe next to him because he smells so bad. I feel bad for the aisle guy. We get off the plane and then he tells me. He accidentally pooped his pants trying to get to the bathroom. He knew he needed to go pronto and nearly passed out trying to make it up to the bathroom but someone went in ahead.
He turns around, heads to the back, and doesn’t make it. Now, if you remember I said the signs said they were vacant. Apparently, he didn’t lock the doors during this panic. And naturally, he needed to get rid of the evidence, so he was trying to flush his boxers down the toilet, and IN WALKS the male flight attendant asking him to return to his seat. Catching him flushing his poop-covered boxers!
I went to the dermatologist when I was 18 just before heading off to college. I had a few red spots on my chest and she wanted to check "down below" to ensure there was no internal bleeding. While my pants were down and she was checking everything out, the nurse walked in without knocking. She got a nice view…along with half the waiting room.
The nurse backed out quickly and I received a profuse apology from the dermatologist. The doctor had to go prepare a treatment and I got to hear her tear the nurse a new one in the next room.
I was my best friend’s maid of honor a few years back. While we were wedding dress shopping, this one quirky bride came into the store and was like, “Whatever dress I get has to go with my red Chucks. I am not one of those girls who wear heels; I’ve always been different.” The shop lady’s reaction was absolutely legendary.
She just stared at her for a moment before responding, “Actually, second to a traditional heel or ballet flat, Chucks are a super common choice for our many low-maintenance brides.” The bride’s whole attitude just deflated.
Thankfully, this was only slightly insulting, not too horrifying. When I was about 18 years old, I went into the doctor’s office because I was experiencing some extreme nausea, among other things. He kept asking me if it was possible that I could be pregnant, over and over again. "So, uh, could you possibly be pregnant? Maybe we should run a pregnancy test."
"Pretty positive I'm not," I responded. He then asked, "When was the last time you had intercourse?" I replied, "Uh... never?" He started laughing and shouted out, "NEVER?!" At this point, he suddenly whipped his head around to face me from behind his clipboard. "Oh, haha, wow, I had no idea. That simplifies things a lot!"
Was that really necessary??
When I was 14, I was at a family friend’s Bar Mitzvah and I didn't know anyone. So, I was sitting there alone and then I saw this cute girl in the corner. I went over to talk to her and then we ended up just walking around this hotel and making out for about an hour (at 14, that was a big deal).
Then she went off to do something. About 15 minutes later I was sitting alone again when my mom called me over and said, "I didn't know she would be here, but this is my cousin and this is her daughter.” I look at the girl and realize that my second cousin is the girl I had just made out with. A moment of horror as we look at each other and shake hands. She still hasn't made eye contact with me since then.
Once I was in line for a Neil Gaiman book signing. As soon as it was my turn to get my book signed, I was so starstruck I blurted out the most backward thing ever: "You are my biggest fan!" I immediately realized my mistake and apologized profusely, and Neil just laughed it off and signed the book. I was so flustered I didn't pay attention to what he scribbled in.
Only after I left the area and opened up my copy of the book to realize he'd signed it with, "From your biggest fan, Neil Gaiman".
I was interviewing for a big promotion at my old job. I had put in the time, the hours, and the effort for this promotion, and I had been passed up a few times, so I was sending out resumes while trying to get this promotion. I go through the first interview, and everything seemed great. They invited me for the second interview.
I was so excited. Flash forward two days, and I go in for the interview. The interview is with the regional and site managers. Everything is going great, they are asking me, "What are your priorities, goals, etc." At the end, the site manager changes his posture and says, "Would you say that you're a loyal employee?"
Taken aback, I say, of course, I've been here almost two years, etc. And like a shark circling his prey, this dude turns his computer monitor around, and shows me my PRIVATE Facebook posts that I posted that I was in the market for a job in the same field. Now, there's no way he could have seen this, as it was a friends-only post.
Someone I work with had to have tattled on me here. He then proceeds to read them to me out loud, not only the posts about my job search, but personal posts about my health situation and questions that I didn't bring up to anybody other than personal friends. I look at the regional manager and this guy won't look me in the eyes, he is shifting, obviously uncomfortable.
I tried to say that I was looking just in case this promotion didn't work out, as I am a college student paying my way through school, but he kept interrupting me and saying, "Loyalty is key." He then tells me, "We will think about it," and points toward the door. The regional manager kind of coughs and goes to shake my hand, but by that point, I was already out the door.
So I said "Thanks anyway," and then proceed to have the most uncomfortable walk back to my desk—I was wearing heels for the first time in like a year so I stumbled on my way out the door—with coworkers asking for the details if I got the promotion. I didn't get the job. I think the whole thing was just an "in your face" type deal.
I went on to get a promotion in a different department. I worked there for about another year and a half, and then I moved on to work for Netflix, actually. So, it all worked out! That manager was unfortunately promoted to regional, but the replacement manager was much nicer and not a huge jerk.
On the day of an economics mid-term, all 300 students had to go to a big lecture hall to take the test. Because it was such a big group, the professor had to use a microphone to give us instructions. So after giving this whole speech about the exam, he bid us all good luck and left the lecture to go do some work in his office next door.
Well, he didn't realize one important thing: He had left his microphone on, so while the entire class was silently writing the exam, we listened to the events that unfolded inside his office. We heard the brief muffled conversation between him and the female TA of our class. Then that conversation stopped. We all realize that they’re being intimate.
The TA’s quieted moans were magnified on the speakers in the lecture hall. The entire class stayed silent. Then, the professor swore loudly and abruptly shut off the microphone. Later, as if nothing had happened, the professor came inside. He was fired a week later.
My twin brother passed in a car wreck and my family suggested that I should date his girlfriend because...grief, I guess? REAL FREAKIN' AWKWARD, MOM.
At the wedding of a college friend of my husband’s, we learned that the bride (his old friend) had been in love with him for over a decade. We learned this from the women at our table at the reception. We introduced ourselves while we waited for the bride and groom to arrive. They were horrified that we were there—and extremely worried.
My husband had NO idea that she had feelings for him. She bee-lined right for our table after the "introducing Mr & Mrs" thing—ignoring her family and leaving her husband standing alone. She clung to my husband and sobbed—lifting her head to glare at me. She had to be pulled off of him.
She repaired herself, then followed us as we tried to leave quietly—her parting shot was to stare at my chest and say, "Well I guess I know what I was missing all along!" Her new husband was in shock and my husband was horrified and embarrassed—he was completely clueless and would never have gone to the wedding if he'd know she was obsessed with him. It was bizarre.
I’m a former bartender. One night some time ago, this couple was having a flirty date at a table close to my bar. They were two rounds in and having a great time; laughs, kisses, flirting, the whole thing. Then, a lady came in and sat at the bar. She seemed off. She stared at the bar menu for a good five to ten minutes. The menu was upside down this whole time.
I figured out that she was there watching the couple behind her through the bar mirror. I went over to greet her. As soon as I got close, I saw that she was wearing a wig. A bad one. She took her sunglasses down and I noticed that she had been crying. At that point, I was intrigued. She was not getting a drink until I got her story.
It turned out the couple behind her was her husband and his mistress.
For the next hour, I had to give her a play by play of her husband's date. So awkward. She was devastated but kept wanting details. Then, she handed me forty dollars to buy them one round. What the heck? But it was a $22 tip for me, so okay. I sent the drinks to the table with my compliments. They waved thanks.
Later on, she asked me to send another round. I did it, knowing the couple would be intoxicated at this point. The couple finished up and left. They even stopped by the bar on the way out. He shook my hand and said thank you for all the free drinks...right next to his wife sitting there! They left. I then saw the wife's plan unfold, and it was epic.
She pulled out her phone, called the authorities, and reported an intoxicated driver. She gave his car description and license plate number, saying he was on the road she knew he would take home. Brutal, but deserved. It would also be his fourth charge for inebriated driving, so that meant he would have to be spending some time behind bars.
I always knew my girlfriend’s parents were teachers, but we go to different schools. Anyway, last week I met them for the first time. When I walked into their house, my blood ran cold. Not only is her dad my science teacher—he 100% hates me with a pure passion. That dinner was awkward.
I don’t have contact often with my biological father, but I knew he’d remarried again. Somebody on my biological father’s side of the family found out about my baby sister’s wedding and they all crashed it. During the reception, a woman I thought looked familiar walked over to me and asked if I was who she thought I was.
I confirmed my identity to her and explained that she looked familiar to me as well, but that I didn’t remember her name. She told me her name and reminded me of a shocking fact— I used to babysit her when I was in high school and she was in middle school. I asked her how she’d been and whose guest she was at the wedding. To my shock, she informed me that she was my biological father’s wife and she wanted to let me know he was hers now.
I was so stunned and not willing to cause a scene I excused myself and left her standing there.
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