FOT Forum
FOT Community => General Discussion => Topic started by: ericluxury on August 05, 2008, 03:01:33 PM
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So yesterday the most humiliating thing thats happened to me since I got the right to vote happened.
So I go to a gym which is way too fancy for me but I go because its in the building I work in. Yesterday I was on the treadmill after work (Monday evening is the busiest time for the gym). I was at the end of the laundry cycle and hadn't washed my gym clothes on the last cycle because I forgot to bring them home. So as I am 10 minutes into my run, I get a tap on the shoulder and the general manager of the gym says to me 'I am going to ask you to stop your workout and come with me'. He was big and the wording of that brought me right back to all the times I was harassed by cops as a youth. Some people get in authority figures faces, but my natural reaction to confrontation with authority is to get incredibly nervous and go along with whatever the cop is saying. I thought I was going to be arrested for some reason. So rather than going with him, I said 'What's going on?'
Basically he tells me, in a very loud voice and in a very crowded area, that I smell too badly to be in the gym with my current clothes and says that he'd be happy to sell me something from the overpriced gym clothes store they have.
It was so embarassing to have 50 people basically watch me as I leave because I smell too badly to be in this place like I was a homeless guy. That, coupled with the interaction where it felt like being jerked around by a cop or a principal, I had completely forgotten that kind of feeling. When I got home, the general manager had written me an email apologizing for the situation and his lack of discretion.
Reading this over, its not a particularly funny story to read (though its funny to tell), but I was hoping we could have a nice topic like this where people share stories rather than the diviseness thats been happening a lot recently. Anyone?
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Reading this over, its not a particularly funny story to read
Wrong. I'm cackling at your misfortune! Hahahahahaha.
Also, leave that gym. They sound like dicks.
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i didnt wash my gym clothes (school gym) for the whole year and nobody said anything. Except this one kid who borrowed my shirt and got really mad that he smelled like caked sweat and organic burritos.
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A few years ago I was in a bar with a group of friends and a few of their acquaintences. One of these girls was crying and being dramatic about some horrible dating thing that was going on with her, so I decided to cheer her up by telling her a few of my terrible date stories.
I included one about this totally obnoxious guy who told racist jokes on a first date and told me his favorite movie was Sleepless in Seattle in some misguided attempt to get into my pants. She thought it was absolutely hillarious. Especially the part where he tried to shove his tongue down my throat two seconds after using a racial slur in some tasteless joke. We compared notes and figured out that she knew this guy too. Totally cheered her up. In fact I think she said he was a douchebag.
Fast forward six months later and I walk in to see this girl sitting at the bar with the guy I had been on the date with. Holding hands.
I go over to say hi, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the situation... and I start to make small talk with this girl. (the guy was avoiding eye contact with me) After about two minutes, she says "Hey remember that time you told me about that terrible date with Jeremy here? Because I do!" She had daggers in her eyes. Like she wanted to kill me all of a sudden.
It's not my fault she decided to start dating the asshole and all of a sudden didn't think my story was funny anymore!
I just kind of laughed and ordered my drink and walked away. But somehow she made me feel ashamed of myself.
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A couple of months ago I went to the art supply store to get some pens--I burn through those micron ones really quickly--and when I went to pay for them, the guy at the counter was like "that'll be $10 each." I was all "wait, whaaaaaaaat?" and then there was that awkward moment where he had to explain that he'd said they were $10 even and I had to explain that I'd misheard him. I was already kind of embarrassed, and I think he noticed because he was trying to be nice about it. As he was putting them into a bag for me, he said something like "Well, I mean, that would make sense, them being $10 each, because they're, like, really good pens."
I could have just nodded and smiled. I could have just taken the bag and left. Instead, I said
"Yeah...nothing like a good pen"
and then, inexplicably, SNORT-LAUGHED. Like a full on, throat-based, pig-sounding, super-loud snort laugh.
I swear to god everyone in the store turned around and stared. He raised an eyebrow and sort of held out the bag at arm's length, like I had told him I had leprosy or something. I couldn't go back into that place for weeks.
It doesn't read as awkward as it was, but still. Urrrrgh.
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********* ADULT STORY FOLLOWS *********
The first time I was close to having sex I was 18 and had just graduated high school. The willing lady -- my girlfriend of 2 months -- was more experienced. It was a hot summer afternoon and her parents were at work. I must have paid no attention in sex ed. because when I went to put on the condom I completely unrolled it and then tried to shimmy it over my thing. I struggled for I think hours and was sweating profusely. She finally snorted "What are you doing?"
We did not have sex that day.
I left her house soon after and spent the rest of the day driving around.
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once when I was getting the most intimate sort of physical, the doctor asked me if I was born again.
Tier one awkwardness.
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This is a simple one. I was a senior in high school. It was lunchtime. The cafeteria was on the bottom level of the building, so there were big pillars all around the room. Of course, there were a lot of circular tables where students could eat. The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. I get up and take my tray to the designated tray area. Students are slow to file out, and the cafeteria is still very much full. For some reason, I decide to cut through the tables as I leave, instead of simply walking around them. One table is directly across from a pillar, and the only thing blocking my path between these two obstacles is a chair. I decide to just jump on top of the chair, then jump to the floor and go on my way. So, I jump, but instead of landing perfectly straight on the chair as I'd planned, I land at too much of an angle, push the chair forward with my body weight and land flat on my back in front of half the student body. And EVERYBODY laughed. Some pointed. I tried to laugh along and play it off, but it wasn't happening. That was embarrassing.
Another good school one happened when I was in sixth grade. I was very shy, and pretty much only had one friend until I was in seventh grade, so I was still hesitant to talk to anybody. So, we're in class, and the teacher announces that we should form ourselves into groups. Being unpopular, I decide to just wait until everyone makes their groups and just join the one that's short one or two kids. This time, that group had three or four kids who were considerably more popular than I was. I go to sit at their table, and a popular guy looks at me as I start to sit down and says, "Don't sit at our table. We don't want you." So, I get up and look around for another group to join, but, seeing as I never really talked to anybody, I'd never dealt with that kind of rejection before. It hurts a lot, and I start to cry. It's soft at first and I can hide it, but it gets heavier, and I start shaking/heaving gently and tears are running down my face. The teacher sees me and forces the popular kids to accept me into their group. I'm unable to help with whatever project we're doing because I'm still crying, and the kid who told me off leans toward me and tries to reassure me and get me to stop crying, but it just makes me feel worse. And all this time, I have to try and come to terms with the fact that I just exposed myself as a sensitive dork in front of everyone in my class.
Well, I guess that second one is a little more haunting than humiliating.
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Mine happened in the seventh grade, on one of the first days of junior high. New school and everything. I had this brand new digital watch that I didn't really know how to work yet, and it had this alarm that played the song, "Dixie." (Being a yankee, I had no idea that this song had any kind of southern redneck connotation. I just thought it was kind of funny.) So the alarm went off for some reason during my English class. I was completely horrified and did not know why or how to turn it off. When I finally got it turned off, it went off again about five minutes later. And then five minutes after that, and so on, probably five or six times during the hour. Imagine my frustration and embarrassment at this point.
So at one such point, the principal of the school walks by, comes into the class and grabs my neck and pinches it really, really hard. He whispers into my ear, "I think there are going to be some problems between us." And walks out.
There never would be any such problems, I wanted to tell him, because I was basically a good kid. And there never were. Whatever. It was just my first encounter with a fascist administrator.
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One time in 7th grade I was talking to my math teacher (who was awesome) about something (I don't remember what) and somehow it ended up with me saying that a lot of my dad's patients (he's a nephrologist- kidneys) died for reasons unrelated to their kidneys just because people with kidney problems were often old with a lot of other problems anyway. This probably wasn't the best thing to have said in any situation, but it wasn't particularly out of place. Then the teacher went, "Wait... your dad's Dr. [my last name]? He's great! I was just there with my father!" I've had a lot of situations before and since where things that seem worse than that have happened, but that one has always stuck with me.
i didnt wash my gym clothes (school gym) for the whole year and nobody said anything. Except this one kid who borrowed my shirt and got really mad that he smelled like caked sweat and organic burritos.
I only ever changed/washed my gym clothes like two or three times a semester, but I really don't sweat much at all naturally and I spent all of gym class avoiding all forms of exercise so it was perfectly hygienic. I did occasionally wonder if someone would notice, but when I did wash them I brought the same clothes in again anyway.
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My birthday is September 15th, and in 2001, I was kind of feeling stressed out and completely irrational on that day. I had also just transferred to a new high school in my senior year and was really nervous. Anyway, I met some girls who seemed nice, and my parents generously offered to take us all out to dinner for my 18th birthday. For some inexplicable reason, halfway through dinner, I burst into tears, and couldn't stop crying. It was just the stress of all the 9-11/switching to a new school crap that had been going on getting to me, but even though I tried to stop, I kept crying, until I had to get up and leave the table. The girls then proceeded to spread it all around school that I had cried like a baby at my birthday dinner. So humiliating. I'm squirming just thinking about it.
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One time in 7th grade I was talking to my math teacher (who was awesome) about something (I don't remember what) and somehow it ended up with me saying that a lot of my dad's patients (he's a nephrologist- kidneys) died for reasons unrelated to their kidneys just because people with kidney problems were often old with a lot of other problems anyway. This probably wasn't the best thing to have said in any situation, but it wasn't particularly out of place. Then the teacher went, "Wait... your dad's Dr. [my last name]? He's great! I was just there with my father!" I've had a lot of situations before and since where things that seem worse than that have happened, but that one has always stuck with me.
My dad's only a neurosurgeon -- imagine my humiliation!
Signed,
(http://img520.imageshack.us/img520/1522/ybmaxsa7.jpg)
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Not my humiliation, but left to right- Josh, Jason & Brian May:
(http://www.celebrityrockstarguitars.com/rock/crook_files/pauledbri.jpg)
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This is a simple one. I was a senior in high school. It was lunchtime. The cafeteria was on the bottom level of the building, so there were big pillars all around the room. Of course, there were a lot of circular tables where students could eat. The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. I get up and take my tray to the designated tray area. Students are slow to file out, and the cafeteria is still very much full. For some reason, I decide to cut through the tables as I leave, instead of simply walking around them. One table is directly across from a pillar, and the only thing blocking my path between these two obstacles is a chair. I decide to just jump on top of the chair, then jump to the floor and go on my way. So, I jump, but instead of landing perfectly straight on the chair as I'd planned, I land at too much of an angle, push the chair forward with my body weight and land flat on my back in front of half the student body. And EVERYBODY laughed. Some pointed. I tried to laugh along and play it off, but it wasn't happening. That was embarrassing.
I realize it's a little late to help you now, Matt, but there's a way to play that one off should something similar ever happen again: Pretend to be badly injured. You can see this successfully work anytime somebody spectacularly blows a play in the outfield in baseball or screws up on coverage in defense in football. Shaming people into not laughing will always be the final refuge of the embarrassed.
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Another good school one happened when I was in sixth grade. I was very shy, and pretty much only had one friend until I was in seventh grade, so I was still hesitant to talk to anybody. So, we're in class, and the teacher announces that we should form ourselves into groups. Being unpopular, I decide to just wait until everyone makes their groups and just join the one that's short one or two kids. This time, that group had three or four kids who were considerably more popular than I was. I go to sit at their table, and a popular guy looks at me as I start to sit down and says, "Don't sit at our table. We don't want you." So, I get up and look around for another group to join, but, seeing as I never really talked to anybody, I'd never dealt with that kind of rejection before. It hurts a lot, and I start to cry. It's soft at first and I can hide it, but it gets heavier, and I start shaking/heaving gently and tears are running down my face. The teacher sees me and forces the popular kids to accept me into their group. I'm unable to help with whatever project we're doing because I'm still crying, and the kid who told me off leans toward me and tries to reassure me and get me to stop crying, but it just makes me feel worse. And all this time, I have to try and come to terms with the fact that I just exposed myself as a sensitive dork in front of everyone in my class.
How did you stop crying? I could use some of that now. Whew. Someone must be chopping onions ..somewhere ... in this office .. at 10am.
I want to go back in time and be best friends with that little kid.
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Another good school one happened when I was in sixth grade. I was very shy, and pretty much only had one friend until I was in seventh grade, so I was still hesitant to talk to anybody. So, we're in class, and the teacher announces that we should form ourselves into groups. Being unpopular, I decide to just wait until everyone makes their groups and just join the one that's short one or two kids. This time, that group had three or four kids who were considerably more popular than I was. I go to sit at their table, and a popular guy looks at me as I start to sit down and says, "Don't sit at our table. We don't want you." So, I get up and look around for another group to join, but, seeing as I never really talked to anybody, I'd never dealt with that kind of rejection before. It hurts a lot, and I start to cry. It's soft at first and I can hide it, but it gets heavier, and I start shaking/heaving gently and tears are running down my face. The teacher sees me and forces the popular kids to accept me into their group. I'm unable to help with whatever project we're doing because I'm still crying, and the kid who told me off leans toward me and tries to reassure me and get me to stop crying, but it just makes me feel worse. And all this time, I have to try and come to terms with the fact that I just exposed myself as a sensitive dork in front of everyone in my class.
How did you stop crying? I could use some of that now. Whew. Someone must be chopping onions ..somewhere ... in this office .. at 10am.
I want to go back in time and be best friends with that little kid.
Really? I want to go back in time and take his lunch money! Kid seems like an easy mark.
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Sixth grade set the bar for humiliation and no other humiliations since have been able to compare. When I was in sixth grade my journal went missing for a few weeks. We had to keep journals for English class. Mine went missing. I figured I'd lost it at my house.
Well, little did I know one of my "friends" had stolen it and was reading it with a bonafide enemy of mine.
Iin the many years before this one guy eventually came out of the closet he committed himself to emulating all the worst aspects of the fairer sex. I think this was like his survival tactic, was to be ten times as mean as any non-effeminate dude. He was the kind of person who would talk shit about you crying at your birthday party four days after sept. 11th! Just a real gossip-turd. Well, he had basically memorized portions of my journal and recited them back to me in gym class. This was also a day where we had to do an obstacle course. So this guy recited portions of my journal to me (which had stuff like word association games and half-assed beatnik experiments that he duly mocked in front of as many people as possible) and I got so mad I actually made a little speech like in a movie, where I assured him that even though my friends may be "losers" they were at least my real friends*, unlike his fake friends or whatever. Then I challenged him to a fight. Then I had to run the damn obstacle course. I had to crawl under things and run through tires or whatever. It was the final crotch-kick to my tattered dignity.
Anyway, that dude never fought me. I was waiting to fight him and he showed up with some girls and said he didn't have time to fight me that day.
Three years later I was friends with this guy and was in a band with the other guy who initially stole my journal in the first place. Say Lah Veee.
*Which wasn't totally true. They were definitely the only people who would talk to me in this hour of my life, but I didn't actually like them very much as they were all pretty small-minded and boring.
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Ever pee your pants when you were 7 because you were at a roller skating party and were too uncoordinated to get your pants down in time because you still had your skates on?
Cuz I did.
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1988, summer camp, my sixth birthday, and I get handcuffed to a fire pole. I can't remember the circumstances other than I was a shrimpy sensitive redheaded little kid.
The twentieth anniversary of this humiliating event will be this Saturday.
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i dont seem to have any stories of humiliation that come to mind. although, everyone else seems to have something stemming from high school (or younger). when i think about those years, im convinced i was humiliated and embarrassed, but nothing comes to mind.
perhaps this is a story of serious denial.
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This is a simple one. I was a senior in high school. It was lunchtime. The cafeteria was on the bottom level of the building, so there were big pillars all around the room. Of course, there were a lot of circular tables where students could eat. The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. I get up and take my tray to the designated tray area. Students are slow to file out, and the cafeteria is still very much full. For some reason, I decide to cut through the tables as I leave, instead of simply walking around them. One table is directly across from a pillar, and the only thing blocking my path between these two obstacles is a chair. I decide to just jump on top of the chair, then jump to the floor and go on my way. So, I jump, but instead of landing perfectly straight on the chair as I'd planned, I land at too much of an angle, push the chair forward with my body weight and land flat on my back in front of half the student body. And EVERYBODY laughed. Some pointed. I tried to laugh along and play it off, but it wasn't happening. That was embarrassing.
I realize it's a little late to help you now, Matt, but there's a way to play that one off should something similar ever happen again: Pretend to be badly injured. You can see this successfully work anytime somebody spectacularly blows a play in the outfield in baseball or screws up on coverage in defense in football. Shaming people into not laughing will always be the final refuge of the embarrassed.
Not true. In our freshman year of high school my friend tripped and just shattered his arm (I had to carry around his books for the last few weeks of the year) and people laughed.
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This is a simple one. I was a senior in high school. It was lunchtime. The cafeteria was on the bottom level of the building, so there were big pillars all around the room. Of course, there were a lot of circular tables where students could eat. The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. I get up and take my tray to the designated tray area. Students are slow to file out, and the cafeteria is still very much full. For some reason, I decide to cut through the tables as I leave, instead of simply walking around them. One table is directly across from a pillar, and the only thing blocking my path between these two obstacles is a chair. I decide to just jump on top of the chair, then jump to the floor and go on my way. So, I jump, but instead of landing perfectly straight on the chair as I'd planned, I land at too much of an angle, push the chair forward with my body weight and land flat on my back in front of half the student body. And EVERYBODY laughed. Some pointed. I tried to laugh along and play it off, but it wasn't happening. That was embarrassing.
I realize it's a little late to help you now, Matt, but there's a way to play that one off should something similar ever happen again: Pretend to be badly injured. You can see this successfully work anytime somebody spectacularly blows a play in the outfield in baseball or screws up on coverage in defense in football. Shaming people into not laughing will always be the final refuge of the embarrassed.
Not true. In our freshman year of high school my friend tripped and just shattered his arm (I had to carry around his books for the last few weeks of the year) and people laughed.
that reminds of a similar humilating and hilarious story that happened to a friend of mine in high school. he was playing basketball in gym and in an effort to look cool jumped up and hung from the rim like he had just dunked a ball. instead someone came up and pulled his shorts down and while he tried in vain to pull them back up he fell off and broke his arm.
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Ever pee your pants when you were 7 because you were at a roller skating party and were too uncoordinated to get your pants down in time because you still had your skates on?
Cuz I did.
No, but I did while playing little league baseball trying to hold it in until the end of the game. To make matters worse I rolled in the dirt to try to hide it... I could have blamed my water bottle but the dirt really made it look obvious. Pretty humiliating.
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Ever pee your pants when you were 7 because you were at a roller skating party and were too uncoordinated to get your pants down in time because you still had your skates on?
Cuz I did.
How about peeing your pants in school in 7th grade? I did that. Was talking to a friend and we were both peeing. I hadn't fully gotten myself out of my pants and the pee went all over my leg. Luckily a well placed backpack and rushing to a hiding spot got me completely out of it. Never caught.
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everyone else seems to have something stemming from high school (or younger).
Perhaps the wounds inflicted by more recent humiliations are still too tender for people to poke at them here.
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Perhaps the wounds inflicted by more recent humiliations are still too tender for people to poke at them here.
very tender
I want to send you a copy of Blueberry Boat ( and multiple magazine subscriptions).
I liked it better the first time when it was called the "Into The Woods" soundtrack.
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I was pretty humiliated the time I was at a conference and 20,000 blue brochures showed up that were supposed to have been printed in purple. (I accidentally picked the wrong pantone color... and then got screamed at in a convention center like I was a disobedient child. I was 21.)
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********* ADULT STORY FOLLOWS *********
The first time I was close to having sex I was 18 and had just graduated high school. The willing lady -- my girlfriend of 2 months -- was more experienced. It was a hot summer afternoon and her parents were at work. I must have paid no attention in sex ed. because when I went to put on the condom I completely unrolled it and then tried to shimmy it over my thing. I struggled for I think hours and was sweating profusely. She finally snorted "What are you doing?"
We did not have sex that day.
I left her house soon after and spent the rest of the day driving around.
I am piggy-backing on gravyboat's first time sex story. Emma, pay attention; this is one of the stories I owe you.
When I was 17 I started dating my supervisor (at the employee's cafeteria of Opryland, for those of you familiar with my Roy Acuff story), who was 18. I was scheduled to be off one day, and she called early, saying she was sick, wasn't going in to work, and wondered if I could drop in to look in on her. OK, I say. Curiously, she wants to know the time I am going to drop by. We settle on noon. Humiliations abound.
1) When I arrive, she answers the door in what, in hindsight, was probably a carefully chosen lovely seductive night-gown/teddy/bustier, but all I can think is "Good God, she looks like Miss Kitty."
2) Almost immediately, she is on me; the extent of my experience in this arena to date has been neck-and-above kissing, with occasional (confusing) pants-on-pants gyrations. I have never even, as they say, "awarded myself". Somehow we wind up on her bed. At some point, I swear to God, she calls me "Pete", who she has not dated for nearly 3 months.
3) The clock radio is softly playing. The song? WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. Without trying to get all graphic, my back is to the mattress. I remember looking over the side of the bed and seeing a pile of our inter-mingled clothes.
4) She leans into my ear, and whispers something that indicates that I should not, uh, let go of my essence, but, alas, I have to inform her that her request is far too late; the actual "encounter" lasted about 2 seconds, and has been over since the second chorus of WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL.
5) The door from the garage to the kitchen swings open and hits the wall. Her dad is home, unexpectedly. Lucky for us, she rushes to her door where she spots him entering the far end of the kitchen. With a woman. Who is not his wife. With her best little girl voice, my girlfriend says "Daddy?", and he runs to his car with his female friend and drives away.
I can not tell you the number of times WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL has played in my head during subsequent romantic moments, but it's more than 10, and it's crippling.
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When I was in grade eight, I got a new pair of red converse high top sneakers.
I thought they were really cool.
When I proudly bounded in to my Grade 8 classroom a bunch of kids started loudly making fun of me. The teacher was not in the room yet.
I was just standing there and three or four people were making fun on me for wearing red converse sneakers as the class looked on and laughed at me.
I kept my composure, and said in a loud voice "WHY DON'T YOU ALL FUCK OFF".
Then I turned around and noticed my teacher standing there. I immediately started crying and had to go to the principals office.
I didn't let the bastards bring me down though, I still wore my converse.
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amplituden: whats funny is now their kids are wearing red converse sneakers. so now they can all go, well...yes.
dfk: WHAT?!
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DfK! Holy Shit!
I think I have a patron saint for this thread:
(http://www.pulsetc.com/image/2005/0309/lou-barlow-02-print.jpg)
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dfk: WHAT?!
I know, I was really surprised to learn that DfK reached the age of 17 without masturbating!
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This one is pretty bad for cringe-factor:
I have a happy, playful relationship with my girlfriend - when she walks by, I will pinch her, poke her, tickle her, etc. We've been dating 6 years, so most of these things are ingrained into my muscle memory at this point, and I do them without thinking. She'll usually giggle and go about her business.
There was a coworker at one of my old jobs that looked a little bit like my girlfriend. I wasn't attracted to her or anything, but I guess sometimes my subconscious was tricked. You probably see where this is going.
One day she bent over to pick something up - I swear to god I wasn't trying to be creepy or sexual, I just did it without even thinking - I slapped her on the butt. The split second after my hand made contact, my vision blurred, my blood pressure spiked, and I screamed "GAAAHHHHH WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT."
She turned around red-faced and I kept screaming words that didn't form sentences. It was the most horrendous, awkward moment ever. We were good enough friends that she eventually laughed about it (the office teased me about it for months), but that was the worst 30 seconds of my life.
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Dfk: you did it again. That was an awesome story. You may have had the best teenage job evah, with this and the Acuff story.
One thing though
Emma, pay attention; this is one of the stories I owe you.
when Chris Hanson knocks on your door, put some clothes on before you answer. And don't try to run away across your lawn. You're admittedly not nimble enough for that.
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todd, I love that you were trying to scream off the reality of the last 30 seconds!
I once made a crack from Doctor Detroit in front of an African American young lady (again, junior high) that I kindaknew was racist, but didn't really realize the extent until it had just escaped my mouth. Then I apologized 8,000 times and only in the middle of my apologizing did she realize what I just said, had it sink in, got mad, and then began to say "It's cool" to shut me up. Yeesh. Fuckin' Akroyd movies.
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todd, I love that you were trying to scream off the reality of the last 30 seconds!
I once made a crack from Doctor Detroit in front of an African American young lady (again, junior high) that I kindaknew was racist, but didn't really realize the extent until it had just escaped my mouth. Then I apologized 8,000 times and only in the middle of my apologizing did she realize what I just said, had it sink in, got mad, and then began to say "It's cool" to shut me up. Yeesh. Fuckin' Akroyd movies.
Yes, exactly! The worst embarrassments are when you do something you KNOW is wrong, but for some reason did it anyway. "I don't normally do this sort of thing..."
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everyone else seems to have something stemming from high school (or younger).
Perhaps the wounds inflicted by more recent humiliations are still too tender for people to poke at them here.
as im reading more of these stories, i realize one of my most humiliating moments involves sex as well. i think we have enough of those stories already so im not going to disclose anything, but i have one less "friend" at any rate.
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I worked in a movie theatre popcorn stand all the way through high school. A girl worked there who was a couple of years older than I was. For a long time she liked me - a lot. She was kind of awkward and I just didn't reciprocate her interest. Eventually, she got a boyfriend, and got engaged. A couple of weeks before the wedding, her fiance got cold feet and bailed out.
At around the time that her enagement was broken off, our movie theatre changed the oil we used for making popcorn from coconut to canola oil. One night this girl expressed some confusion about the relative merits of canola oil vs. corn oil. I said, "Corn oil is the same thing as canola oil! What kind of wife are you going to make!"
This "what kind of wife are you going to make" was a stock joke of mine at the time, and usually worked out pretty well. This time, as soon as I said it I realized how insanely mean it was, and started stammering apologies. Didn't matter. She cried and cried.
And of course I was wrong - corn oil is not the same as canola oil.
17 years later, I still flash to this moment on a regular basis and feel ashamed of how bad I made this girl feel.
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Ever pee your pants when you were 7 because you were at a roller skating party and were too uncoordinated to get your pants down in time because you still had your skates on?
Cuz I did.
No, but I did while playing little league baseball trying to hold it in until the end of the game. To make matters worse I rolled in the dirt to try to hide it... I could have blamed my water bottle but the dirt really made it look obvious. Pretty humiliating.
Yeah, but did you have players from the opposing team yell out "Look, he peed his pants?"
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Yeah. It wouldn't have been humiliating if I was able to hide it!
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DFK:
!!!!!!!!!!!
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DFK:
!!!!!!!!!!!
Seriously. It's been said already, but DFK's story should close this whole thread. I laughed SO hard!
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DFK:
!!!!!!!!!!!
Seriously. It's been said already, but DFK's story should close this whole thread. I laughed SO hard!
Yeah, that definitely put all our stories to shame (no pun intended).