Oh. Er. Hi Slappy.
I'm trying to think of good embarassment stories. But, mostly what I come up with are not-really-embarassing-exactly stories.
But, then I remembered a recent embarassment.....
Both Dasha and Blaise were in town visiting in early december and we decided to have an outing one cold saturday. While we were walkign to the T to head into Boston, we passed the People's Republik which is a bar with a couple of benches outside, sunken into little recesses. This bar has chalk boards outside where exiled smokers and employees make various notes. It's a bit of a silly place.
Anyway, as we were walking I saw some legs sticking out from the bench nook. There were a pair of sneakers attached to some skinny-ass ankles which disappeared into pants legs. That's all I could see. I reflected on how skinny the ankles were and figured this was one of those stuffed scarecrow abominations that bespeckle suburban front porches around thanksgiving time.
So, I said, liudly to be heard over Blaise's chattering, "Wow! Those are some skinny ankles!" Or something (Blaise or Dasha could prolly tell you better what I actually said).
About 2 seconds AFTER I said what I said, we all looked back into the recess which was just now in view. There was an old guy sitting there, looking back at us....... Doh!
LOL!!! Suzy, you're getting some great material here!
i am. thank you again! dasha is actually the person who referred me to this site. she's great! thanks all again...keep them coming...
i'm still partial to the "fart heard round homeroom..." classic.
A couple of weeks previous to this event, I had locked my keys in the car. The police officer who helped me had broken the driver side lock in attempting to get in (nev' mind he could've done this on the passenger side.
I hadn't had a chance to get this fixed yet, so, although I could get out the driver side and lock the door, it wouldn't unlock with a key, so I had to get in and out through the passenger side.
This was in the mid-80's when there was a brief comeback of "sandra dee" 50's style skirts and dresses.....cinched waists and really full skirts that wafted about in the breeze.
I parked my car, got out on my drivers side, locked the door, slammed it firmly shut, and started to walk away.....about 2 feet.
My skirt had blown up and gotten caught in the locked door, exposing quite a bit of gam.
I'm holding my keys, but can't get back in......
By some strange twist of fate, there was no one walking down the street for at least 5 minutes...it seemed like an hour. I'm sure that gus and slappy were watching from their office windows, enthralled.
Eventually, a group of 5 or 6 boys, about 10 years old, came by.
Oh God no....I imagined the worst. It would have been better to be confronted by a rabid squirrel, or a dozen rabid squirrels.
"uh, hi.......guys? could you please help me....."
It was a real act of trust to hand them the keys....If I were one of them I definetly would have heaved the keys into a weedy vacant lot and took off running.
But, one of them went round to the other side, unlocked the door, just as I realized my handbag was sitting on the seat. Ack!
Well, he turned out to be a good kid, and just unlocked my door. The others just stood around, staring up my dress.
I got my lock fixed the next day.
this from my blog. sorry, 'tis a bit long.
Kris was trying out the whole online dating thing. She set up a profile on The Onion (a good pre-screening to eliminate all those with no sense of humor) and was sifting through her emails daily.
I was also single at the time and although I would love to say she had to put a knife to my neck and twist my arm, it wasn't quite so. I was curious and willing to try. What harm can it be. It's anonymous, it's online, I don't even have to talk to anyone if I don't want to.
So I set up a profile, plastered my photo onto it, and sifted through emails daily as well. Exchanged a few emails, but never liked anyone enough to meet in person. I mean, it was difficult to choose between a guy with a full sleeve tattoo, a doctor who likes hours of sensuous kissing and soft whispering (I would have to smack him with a rolling pin to get away from me) or a pilot who'd like to have a pretty maiden in every harbor.... It got old pretty quick and my ad was soon abandoned and forgotten. Besides, my boomerang boyfriend started showing up every weekend again and things were moving rapidly towards re-bonding, and eventually, months later, moving in together.
We had a perfect little house. I played the homemaker. An emancipated homemaker. I painted walls, chopped some trees down with a chainsaw, hauled many rocks away from the garden that was abandoned for ten years, that sort of a thing.
The garden. My garden. Inch by inch I turned it from a dump to a nice piece of landscape. I put some primroses out by the everything-invading forsythia, along with narcisses and snow whites to have a little spring garden. Then I put in some shrubs, a double flowering japanese rose, trimmed rose bushes that were already in there, sowed in seeds of marygolds, tossed some violets that invaded every empty space and crevice like a horde of Attila's Huns...
That particular morning, I was raking the devil out of periwinkles. They were covering most of the backyard and I wanted to get rid of them, put d0wn a nice lawn on which I could put a blanket and read in the sun. Phone call. E was calling from work.
- Hey, how are you?
- Good good, I'm raking the lawn and and I want to...
- Is everything okay?
- Uhhhh, yeah.
- Have you seen the Boston Globe today?
- No.
- Check out the online edition, Dagmaster.
Dag..what? Wait, how did he...? I mean that was my.... did we ever talk about....where the hell is this coming from....?.... I run to the computer, rake in hand, splattering mud all over and load up the Boston globe. Scroll down, pearls of cold sweat on my forehead in anticipation of some disaster. International news...nothing outrageous, Domestic....whatever.....Sports...not even looking....Personals........ Wham! There I am, my photo and all, on the front page of the bloody Boston Globe. "Dagmaster.....About me: I am the best Slovak this vicinity has to offer, if perhaps the only one...." I fold my head on the table and beat it against the teak wood that I polished that morning a few times. Why did I ever post a profile up? Why did I not delete it as soon as I was bored of it? Why did nobody ask me if I agree to have it plastered on a front page of newspaper that everybody in this whole damn town reads...why ,why, why?
That day was not a pleasant day. I had to drive to school to first stop by at the Registrar's Office, and then teach my International Relations class. At the registrar's, the student at the desk grinned and asked: "So, you're a Taurus?"
Basomazapat azandelat, just give me my stupid paper and don't meddle into what's none of your business. Grrrrrrr.
I asked my students to read international news section of the Globe at the very first class. It's easy, I told them. You just go online and subscribe to receive international news via email. Or at least browse through the headlines online before class. Apparently they were good students. For they all did peruse the online edition of the Globe that day.
"Miss Kusa, can we go through the news from the Boston Globe now?"...chuckle... "You are from Slovakia, professor? What is the number of Slovaks in this vicinity?"...hee hee hee, ho ho ho... "Miss Kusa, have you found anyone yet?".....
Little bastards. I need to be much more stern with these wisecrackers. No more Mr. Niceguy. No more jokes, no more games, no more debate teams. I've had it with you, you lousy little shitheads....
So I had to teach a bunch of cackling gremlins, but somehow I survived to the end, with a bit of self-deprecating humor and a lot of feigned composure.
I got home completely drained. Boomerang boy was, however, beaming with energy and good humour. At least he wasn't pissed off. He liked the ad. He said it said the right things in the music and interests department. He would have called me himself if I wasn't already living in his house. Wiseass. Well, musn't grumble. The Best Slovak this vicinity has to offer, was taken out to a nice dinner. And learned an invaluable lesson about anonymity and safety of personal data out there in the online universe.
Suzie, I'm glad you're liking the site. There are a lot more stories on some other threads, Lord Ellpus posted a link to one. This one:
http://www.able2know.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=52518&postdays=0&postorder=asc&highlight=embarrassing&start=0 ..and as far as i know, there are others.
While we're on the subject of flatulence.... In the summer of 2001 I was biking some 50-60 miles a day. I was in a great shape, going down to Tiverton and Little Compton, or just on a bike path heading north out of Rhode Island. One beautiful day, on the way back from a turnaround point, I was peddling merrily along the path. Everything deserted, as it was mid-week during the day, everybody was at work. Having eaten recently, the movement helped my gastrointestinal tract to work properly and I, as it were, let out a real loud one. A juicy long honk. I glanced back casually, and to my horror, I realized there's a biker RIGHT behind me. A guy, perhaps in his fifties. I turned purple, stepped on the pedals and attempted a getaway. The bugger was no gentleman, let me tell you. He was actually laughing out loud. In any case, he turned out to be in a great shape too. He chased me for some twenty minutes, finally overtaking me on an uphill, when I was ready to drop dead of exhaustion and embarassment. He didn't forget to turn back and give me one last wide grin. Bastard.
Football
Most embarrassing moment in my life takes you to my college when I participated in a Football match. Me and my buddies were trying hard to get into good practice and preparation. The efforts literally over drained energy out of me on one hot sunny day when I had to attend a lecture of the subject of Software Engineering.
The fatigue was too strong to hold myself awake. I slept on the back Bench in the classroom. The lecturer was a well-known professor specially called for the subject from the university. He unexpectedly asked the class about anyone who plays football. All cunning pupils pointed their fingers out at me while I was sleeping. The professor asked loud "Can I know what a Penalty Shootout is..."
I woke up shouting the goal keeper failing to save a goal in my dreams, "You motherf*cking as*hole, Get your fat ass moving...".
The professor quietly asked the next question to girls about ballet.
Lord Ellpus wrote:You know Dag?
She has FRIENDS?
Good god!
yes, ellpus. people often do. you should try it sometime.
Nice story about the online dating, Dag. I am heading off to the Boston Globe archives right now.
There's got to be some good material there.
profile was deleted the next day (it wouldn't let me to delete the day it was featured, bahstids)
Why'd they do that, Dagmarka? Were they doing a story about online dating, and just used your profile as an example?
Suzy, you might want to do a thread about enbarrassing stories on the General Forum too. There are a lot of people who hang out there, and you might get more stories.
yeah, they just featured my long forgotten ad on their first page - every day they feature one and mine must have come up from the depths of hell that day somehow. i'm actually curious now whether it's totally random or someone actually sits there and goes through personals and choses ones that will be featured....? anyone?
