I think it’d be kinda fun to share embarrassing stories with one another. And look – I’m even going to go first. You know, to break the ice. To get us all comfortable with each other. Consider this a mockdock circle of trust.
So I was about to turn 16, and my best friend at the time, who I’ll call Pam, because that was her name, was taking me out to dinner to a fairly swank restaurant. She was already 16 and had her own car, which made her exponentially cooler than I was. I was totally psyched about this dinner. We got sort of dressed up and everything! We were wearing, as I recall, pantsuits, and I had on a pair of new slip on shoes that had a tiny bit of a heel on them, which made me feel fabulously grown-up.
Anyway, so we get to the restaurant, at which we had reservations even, which made us feel very very important. Pam had told the restaurant people it was my birthday and that we wanted seating in their loft area, which was basically like every other part of the restaurant except that you had to go up 3 steps, turn, and then go up an additional two steps. People who sat in the loft, we thought, were the ultimate in cool.
So we were seated. We made every effort to speak to each other like really cool grown-ups, and discussed things like the dark ambience of the restaurant, and took note of the paintings and other notable decorations. And we were waited on by a totally hot and totally young guy, who treated us like we were actually loft-worthy, and so we became very flirtatious and coy and girly with him. He, in turn, lapped it up like honey. As he left to fetch our bread, Pam said to me, “We should ask him for strawberry daiquiris,” to which I replied wisely, “But we’re not 21.”
Pam rolled her eyes at me and said, “Well, they’ll be virgin, obviously, but we’ll still look cool drinking them.”
I didn’t doubt Pam, because she was 16 and had her own car, both of which made anything she said instantly unquestionable.
So our waiter boy came back, and Pam bravely said, “We’d like to order two strawberry daiquiris.” And then she WINKED at him. That is how cool she was. I was in awe of her. And he seemed to be too.
So waiter boy arrived a little bit later with two strawberry daiquiris, complete with added fruit and umbrellas. I was in HEAVEN. And they were delicious. We ordered dinner, and it was fancy steak and fancy baked potatoes and fancy salads, and all the while waiter boy kept the refills on the strawberry daiquiris coming.
It wasn’t until after finishing the 3rd ROUND of daiquiris that I realized we were, in fact, WASTED. I knew this, because I was crying with laughter at everything Pam said, and yet Pam was no longer able to form complete sentences.
We asked waiter boy if our drinks contained actual alcohol in them, and he just grinned slyly at us and told us what time he got off work. In a brief moment of clarity, we decided it was time to go.
There was just one problem. The stairs leading out of the loft. You know – the two steps, and then the turn, and then the three steps. Pam decided, inexplicably, that she was less intoxicated than I, and she was going to lead me out of there by the hand, and we’d lean on each other for support, and it would all be fine.
We took the first two steps without incident, except that we were INCREDIBLY obnoxious and getting glares from each table we passed because we were in STITCHES. How we navigated two steps without injury, I have no idea.
Next came the turn. This was tricky, because it was a tight space, and it was dark (because of all the ambience). Pam made the turn, her hand clasped tightly around mine, and I followed. And then, for some reason, she let go of my hand.
This is when the fall began. And you know those EPIC falls where you kind of think you might be able to save yourself, and then you contort your body in impossible ways that you think will prevent the fall but actually just make the falling process worse, and then you just totally wipe out in the most awkward, ankle-twisting kind of way? Yeah. Welcome to my fall. But that’s not the worst of it.
Pam rushed over to me, in a FIT OF GIGGLES, to ask me if I was all right. Even though I was stunned, I realized fairly quickly that I was, indeed, physically ok. But something was missing.
I had on only one shoe. Pam helped me up, and I got my bearings, and when I couldn’t see my shoe on the floor (because of all the ambience), I looked up and caught the eye of another restaurant patron, whose table was just past the 3 stairs. He looked FURIOUS. It was then that I saw my shoe.
On top of his steak dinner.
HORRIFIED, I rushed at his plate, grabbed my shoe, grabbed Pam’s hand, and pulled her, as she laughed hysterically, out into the parking lot. I was utterly mortified, and furious with Pam for letting go of my hand and then for laughing at me. But only for a second.
Because out walked waiter boy, who had gotten off his shift. He walked over to us and started trying to talk to Pam, who stopped laughing and turned completely white. All of us picked up on the scent at the same time and looked down, at Pam’s crotchular area, which was soaked with pee.
Sweet, sweet justice.
Let’s hear your stories now, Mockdockers! GO!
I already posted this once, but what the hell. This is by far one of the funniest things that EVER happened to me, and I’ve done a lot of completely stupid, mockable things! Anyway, here goes:
One morning I was taking my son to Kindergarten. I am so NOT a morning person, that Satan himself wouldn’t dare to wake me without a cup of coffee in his hand. Anyway, to just get out of my car and walk my son the 200 feet to the door of the school, I usually just wore sweats and a t-shirt. Clean, mind you, but obviously just-rolled-out-of-bed clean. This particular morning, I drop off my son, and who do I run into, but my ex-fiance, who I haven’t seen in about 12 years since our break-up. He spots me, and we start chatting away, catching up, as we were together for almost 5 years, and we knew a lot about our families, etc. We must have talked for about 20 minutes. About 10 minutes into the conversation, I realize, to my complete and utter horror, that I didn’t put in my tooth that morning! Not just one of those back teeth no one really sees, but one of those VERY FRONT teeth you can’t possibly miss! As soon as I realized what I did, I tried to be all cool, and turn my head to the opposite side to talk, and not show my teeth if I laughed, but I just know he saw! When I got home, I must have laughed for about 15 minutes straight, until my gut was killing me! When I told my husband and best friend, who knew my ex, they both laughed hysterically at me! I’ll never live it down, and you know, it STILL cracks me up!
On a side note, I may be fat, but his wife is quite the landbeast – even if she has all of her teeth!
YAY! first story in the line…
So yeah, my boyfriend and I were out about town, doin our thing, and decided to go to the movies. It was basically empty that day, so as we were walking down the deserted corridor to our theatre, he shouted ” LOOK WHAT I CAN DO!” in a perfect parody of stewart, from MAD tv, and proceeded to pull of a 10 point cartwheel, the kind which would make a gymnast green with envy…only one hitch in his plan of hilarity. He was wearing WALMART clearance jeans. *RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP*
They tore, with a SERIOUSLY comical cartoon rip sound, from crotch to knee. I then BROKE DOWN with laughter. I couldn’t breath, i was STREAMIN tears, and literally fell to my knees and then on my side. in the middle of the movie hallway. just as a movie let out. so they didnt even notice his undies flapping in the wind, they just see me braying like a jackass, redfaced and teared up, laying on the floor. DYING of asphyxia. So we go in and watch the movie, and every little while My main squeeze would whisper “look what i can do…” and get me going all over again. I very nearly pissed meeself, He ended up walking out of there with my hoody draped in front of his crotchular area like a girl who got her monthy gift early. I still die every time I hear the phrase. And another thing, a week later my plaid jammie pants ripped while i was getting out of his car at the gas station, in front of EVERYONE, right down my crack. The lesson; Kharma’s a B*TCH, people.
Geez, and I thought my Sweet 16 involving two of my friends sneaking off into the back yard to smoke pot and another very weird friend showing up in Backwards Mode (everything on backwards, even her eyeshadow was backwards – under her eyes instead of on her eyelids) was embarrassing.
I don’t embarrass very easily. Byt this one was about as close at as it can get.
I stopped in at my local Walgreens Drug Store last spring. As I was checking out I started some small talk with the woman clerk. After a while, the clerk says to me, “Um… Do you know you have your shirt on backwards…….. and inside out?”
I looked down to see the tag of my shirt flipped out like a tongue giving the raspberries.
I replyed back, “Oh my! Good thing I don’t embarrass easily.”
To which she said, “Yeah, I could tell you were like that. I wouldn’t have told you so otherwise.”
I drove to my office and fixed my dressing in the dark fashion mistake before any clients caught sight of me.
Waaaay back when (probably in the early 90′s), I wanted to get Morrissey tickets. So the day before the tickets went on sale, I lined up with a bunch of other people to get bracelets which would let you come back the next day and buy tickets with some kind of priority (this was before the interweb and presales). Well, I’d been out to a club the night before, and a guy was dressed JUST like Morrissey, you know, white t-shirt, jeans with a 2 inch turned up cuff, Doc Martens, etc, including a black biker’s jacket with “Suedehead” across the top. I guess you have to be a Smiths fan to get it.
Anyhoo, I got my bracelet, and then came back the next day to stand on ANOTHER line, this time in bracelet order. I started talking to a group of people on line in front of me, and I happened to mention that I saw a REALLY hot guy at this club the other day, and he had a jacket that said Suedehead! Wasn’t that cool? So the guy in front of me, the very SAME guy, turned around and said “Uh, I was at Malibu and I have a jacket that says Suedehead.”
I was so embarrassed I just didn’t know what to say. The entire group just kind of turned back around and I don’t think anyone said anything else.
Thought of another one. I was in the 7th grade and a bunch of girls met up to go roller skating. My friend Julie was much more sexually mature than the rest of us and was extremely boy crazy.
She was crushing on a boy about 2 or 3 grades ahead of us who was at the skating rink this same night. The cool kids would always skate in the middle of the rink and there he was going around in tight circles with about 4 buddies. Julie was descretly trying to point out which one he was. I told the group of girls I would go out on the rink and point him out.
Out I went on the rink and got right behind him. Waving and pointing him out to my friends much to Julie’s dismay. Just as I was waving and pointing, the group of guys decided to slow down because they wanted to exit the rink. I wasn’t prepared for the quick stop and ran right into the guy Julie liked. Both of went down like a ton of bricks. I was sooo embarassed, as was Julie. I don’t remember what teh reaction of the other girls was, but looking back, I am sure none of them thought it was very funny.
Thinking back to it now some 22 or so years later, I think it is hilarious!
I have to share what I would do to my kids in stores when they would argue in public.
Whey they were younger and would fight and argue I would tell thema to stop, but often times they wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t listen to me at all when they got this way. Them fighting, me yelling… it was embarrassing.
So, I came up with a plan. I would act mentally challenged when they got like this. When they got bucky, I would start talking to myself like a stereo typical mentally handicapped person. Then I would stick my but out and walk like Mama on Mama’s Family. Some times I would chase them around and say, “Give your mom a kiss.” Or “I’m their mom.” I would only do this if there were no people around.
My kids were terrified by the thought of someone seeing them with me acting like this. It always worked, and when they were older they would scatter and go on their own in the store. I would then tell them to meet me at the front desk at a specified time or I would call for them on the loud speaker. This too was something that embarrassed them to no end. What if someone else they knew was in the store??
I like to think I have helped my kids develop a tough skin.
these are great, the movie theater one made me laugh reading it. I don’t embarrass much at all so I’m trying hard to think of a story and have come up with nothing.
Not long after having my second child, I ran out to do some errands. Because I had a babysitter, I was trying to take care of all the things it’s easier to do without kids along. I stopped to get gasoline, and realized, oh sweet freedom, I could actually go inside the mini-mart and buy my sleep-deprived self a soda. ALONE. This is what actually passed for excitement in my life during this time. I got back into my car, grateful I didn’t have to buckle, snap, or secure anyone but myself and drove away. The helpful gas station attendant responded to my joy and waved goodbye. It wasn’t until he actually started chasing me down the street that I realized something felt off about my car. When I stopped and got out, I noticed that I had left the gas nozzle in my tank. And I was driving with it and the ENTIRE HOSE dragging behind me. Many, many feet of gas pump hose and hardware. And there were cars full of hysterical teens pointing and laughing. Called my BFF for moral support and she laughed so hard she nearly wet herself. Which was actually better than moral support, come to think of it.
So at my school every year, we have an awards day. It’s this huge ceremony with the entire high school and their parents and video cameras and everything (well, as huge as a K-12 private school with 275+ people can be).
Since I had been inducted into Beta Club the year before, when I was 15, I got to help with the ceremony. I had to read a little speech and light a candle. I was really nervous.
Despite being totally shy sometimes and having remnants of a speech impediment that sneak up on me, I made it through the speech without incident. This was quite an accomplishment for me, and I felt really relieved.
Then, I strode across the gym floor to the table with the candles. I looked for the matches, and their were none. All that was there was a cigarette lighter.
Now, I’ve never smoked and never will. I’m scared to death of cigarettes, because I have this granny who’s like 75 and a chain smoker and her house is unbearably stinky and I think her brain is fried. Also, I avoid cigarette lighters because they scared me, seeing as how your finger is like RIGHT THERE next to the fire.
So, up until this point, I had never, ever used a cigarette lighter. And here I was, having to attempt to use one in front of like 100 people. But how hard can it be? You just flick it, right?
WRONG. I tried about ten times before another student yanked the thing out of my hand an lit my candle for me. I was MORTIFIED.
Later that day, in Art class (which had 7 or so people), they made me practice using a cigarette lighter OVER AND OVER until I went from animal-lacking-opposable-thumbs skill level to toddler skill level on using cigarette lighters.
And to this day, people talk about it. It’s like two years later. LAME.
OH MY GOODNESS I FORGOT.
Okay, so at homecoming one year, this landbeast girl who NEVER washes her hair and is like 4 years younger than me walked up to me at the beginning of the dance and said the following, I kid you not:
“Last year…at homecoming…this guy I liked wouldn’t even talk to me…soIwentinthebathroomandcriedallnight.”
Just like that. Really slow and paused and then super fast. Also, this was my first verbal encounter with this human ever.
I was stunned. What do you say to that? I mean, that’s WAY too direct for ANY situation, and is ENTIRELY INAPPROPRIATE to say to somebody.
In my mind I just thought of the possible responses. “Well, have fun in the bathroom!” was what I really wanted to say, but I thought that that would make my ENTIRE SCHOOL OF 275+ think I was the biggest jerk ever.
So I had to make at least half-hearted attempts at being nice to this weirdo, or risk society thinking I was a (excuse me) douche bag for the rest of forever. I decided to at least let her follow me around and I would acknowledge her if she spoke.
So that night I ended up abandoned by most of my friends, who did not want any contact with the whale following me around, and had the most miserable homecoming ever.
I didn’t even want to tell anyone why I was being semi-nice to this sea cow, because I didn’t want them to think I was a jerk for gossiping. But a couple of people who do know me pretty well noticed that I was miserable because she was ALL OVER ME and made comments about it the next week or so. So I didn’t really have a reason to tell, because they all knew I hated her.
Finally, this year, I told people. They were all pretty mortified as well (except for my best friend, who laughed hysterically).
Mock well written story…well told.
A few years ago one of the biggest jerks in my squadron, Capt. Hanoff, came into my office. As always he was scowling and very seriously said, “Sgt Schlecht, I need you to be as inconspicuous as possible and deliver this note to Maj Hintz in the meeting that’s going on in the conference room.”
“Yes, sir.” I said as I got up and prepared to walk over to the conference room. But in order to let me know how much he looked down his nose at a peon such as myself he added, “The ONLY reason I’m having YOU do this is because you’re his Orderly Room and you can get away with it.” Thanks, jerkface.
I walk in to the conference room and everyone is at least a Senior Master Sergeant or higher, mostly officers. I spot Maj Hintz in the corner running the slides. I start walking over to him all super inconspicuous like but failed to see that there was a platform that I needed to step up on to get to him. My foot catches the step, and THUD THUD THUD, you hear me trip. I didn’t fall, but I definitely stomped loud enough in order to catch myself to no longer be inconspicuous. The entire meeting stops, they all look at me and Maj Lesiak says, “Hannibal Schlechter is here.” My face was about 15 shades of red as I waved and did a curtsy. I handed the note off to Maj Hintz and quickly exited. However, Capt Hanoff was waiting for me to come out of the conference room and scowled even more at me and said, “You tripped on the platform didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” I replied as he walked away. I thought it was hilarious, because I can laugh at myself. And they all thought it was funny too; because later that day I ran into one of the guys at the grocery store and he told me that I couldn’t have done that at a more perfect time. The meeting was getting heated and it was just the comic relief they needed to ease everyone’s grumpiness. That’s what I’m here for, comic relief.
This past baseball season at my son’s baseball game, I cheered for this kid Benson. Every game I would yell GO BENSON!!!!!! The LAST game of the season I heard one of the coaches yell, Come on VINCENT you can do it! I sat there frozen and I know my face was red. I called the kid by the wrong name for 8 weeks and nobody ever had the guts to tell me!!! I felt like such an idiot!
This story is actually more embarrassing for my mother than for myself (though it still embarrasses me) but so be it. When I was in the third grade, I wanted to give my teacher a gift for Christmas because I noticed that all of the other kids were giving her gifts. So one evening, I found one of my mom’s belts and decided that would be a suitable gift for my teacher.
Now that I had the belt, I just needed to find a box to put it in. I went searching everywhere for an appropriately sized box. I searched EVERYWHERE (including places a child should probably not look for such things), and I finally found one.
The next day I presented my teacher with the belt in this box. And the teacher thanked me, and wrote my mother a note because I had presented her with the gift… in a condom box… Of course as a 3rd grader I had no idea, but when I finally heard the story and understood what it meant I was mortified. I can only imagine how my mother felt…
That’s humorous, Wayne. Once, in second grade, we brought my teacher a load of honeysuckle after recess. She actually was allergic to honeysuckle, and was out for two weeks.