Friday, February 01, 2008

Embarassing Moments

What's your most embarassing moment? I'm sure we can all come up with at least one but there are usually many more in our repertoire. To get the conversation going, I'll share one of mine from about 30 years ago. Here goes...

Motorhomes were the big thing in the late 1970's and early 1980's - my family had one that took us on trips to California and Mexico one year and Washington, DC and Florida the next. Grandma and Grandpa had a mini-version of the motorhome - I loved its quaintness and the cozy feeling I got whenever I was doing dishes in it or just sprawled out reading a book on the cushions. Sometimes when RJ and I were at their house we snuck in so we could pretend we were on our own with a camper - Grandma never liked it much when we did that.

One summer, when I was about 12, they took me, just me, with them on a weekend getaway to Killarney, Manitoba. I packed up my books and my bikini and looked forward to swimming and time with just the two of them. We parked close to the lake and set up the table and chairs in the shade and off I went to the swimming area. There were lots of other pre-teens and teenagers there - and they all seemed to be in big groups. I felt like I was the only person all by myself - and I was a little uncomfortable but not brave enough to go introduce myself to anybody. I just hung out on the beach and then decided to swim out to the floating raft in what seemed like the middle of the lake. I told Grandma I was going to do this and she said, "Are you sure? Be careful." I did my best American Crawl and though I veered off course a few times (as I always do with the crawl) I made it to the raft just fine. Once I hoisted myself up I saw a group of three girls sunning themselves - they were totally self confident and, I could tell at a glance, totally into their looks. Their hair was all wet and slicked back and they had perfect tans - you know the type.

There was a diving board on the raft and I made my way right to it. I dove off the first time, hoisted myself back up on the raft, and then did a flip, followed by more dives. When I got tired I decided to rest on the raft. I picked a spot a few feet away from the girls but I noticed them watching me as I walked over. In fact, I'd noticed them watching me every time I went to the diving board. I thought to myself, "I bet they think I'm pretty good at diving and swimming" and was thrilled when one of them stood up and walked over to me. I thought, "I bet she'll ask me my name and ask me to sit by them." I smiled up at her and she said, "Um, you might want to know that your top is up." My smile froze on my face as I looked down and saw the top piece of my two piece was almost to my collarbone and those breast buds that I was always so careful to hide were bare for the world to see. I muttered, "Thanks." Then I yanked down my top, ran to the diving board and dove in, heading to the beach. I stayed underwater for as long as I could, cheeks burning red and lungs ready to explode. I finally surfaced, grabbed my towel from the chair by Grandma and hung out in the safe refuge of the camper for the rest of the day - mad at myself for being so cocky and too embarassed to go back to the beach since I had no idea who'd seen my bare breasts.

So - what's your story? We'd love to laugh and commiserate with you.

2 comments:

  1. OK, Marci...I've actually been thinking about this one for a few days. Now I think I'm ready to give it a go!

    I honestly don't have a lot of "embarassing moments"...probably because I like to play it safe and I'm not much of a front and center type of person. All that being said...I recently did have an embarassing moment - and it actually, sort of (though not really) involves you! ;-) Have I caught your interest?

    Last spring, I was attending, for the fourth or fifth year in a row, a scrapbooking retreat at a quaint little Bible camp set in the woods of West-Central MN. I always look forward to this retreat, because it is the ONLY time I get to scrapbook extensively during the entire year!

    On the first evening, there was a "mixer" of sorts where we were supposed to introduce ourselves to the rest of the group. After I introduced myself and said where I was from, another attendee piped up and said, "Oh - you look SO familiar...did you attend UND?"

    ME: "Why yes, I did..." (I was already embarassed, because I did not recognize her - not immediately, anyway. And I usually have a VERY good memory for faces; often names, too. I was embarassed, and I also felt badly because I couldn't put a name to the face.)

    MYSTERY GIRL: "I'm Andrea - I think we were on the same TEAM together. Were you in TEAM 6 or TEAM 7?"

    ME: "Ummm..." (Keep in mind, this entire conversation is taking place in front of about 15 other people that I don't know! Also [here's the part where you come in, Marci!] you may or may not remember [well, you probably don't remember - it really WAS a LONG time ago!], I am horrible with numbers. I don't know if you ever knew that about me, but the connection there is that YOU were my El. Ed. TEAM Math instructor. I don't remember dates, times, phone numbers...formulas, conversions, etc. Let's just say Math is not my forte nor my favorite of subjects! Not to mention, we're talking about 10 years ago...I really couldn't remember if I was on "TEAM 6" or "TEAM 7"! My mind was racing and I felt like I had to come up with an answer, quickly - all eyes were on me. Which one was it? Which one was it? I'd better just make something up so we can move on to the next person!)

    ME: "Ummm...TEAM 6, yes, that's right. No wait, maybe it was TEAM 7..." (I could feel my face BURNING and I SO wanted to be out of the spotlight!)

    ANDREA: "You don't know which TEAM you were on?" (asked increduously)

    ME: "Well...it WAS a long time ago...really, I think it was TEAM 6. Yep, TEAM 6. I'm going to go with that one." (I looked at the group facilitator pleadingly, urging her silently to PLEASE move on to the next person - and thankfully, she did - but not before I felt like everyone thought I was a little featherbrained!)

    SO, there you have it. It's nothing too crazy...but boy, did I feel like a dolt. Oh well, I guess a little humble pie is not such a bad thing!

    "Humility is to make a right estimate of one's self."
    Charles Spurgeon

    ReplyDelete
  2. Like Lori, I too have been thinking about this for a few days. However, unlike Lori, my problem was that I have SO MANY embarrassing moments, that I haven't been sure which one to pick. But, after some contemplation, this is the worst of the worst embarrassing moments:

    When I was in eleventh grade I was selected to be in an international Canadian/American honor choir affiliated with the Peace Gardens to tour Europe. This was a super exciting experience for me, and I had an incredible time singing choral music in various wonderful cathedrals throughout Germany, Belgium, Luxenburg and the Netherlands.

    However, one major cultural difference for me was the lack of public restrooms in Europe. The fact that you have to pay to use the restroom in Europe throws a lot of people for a loop. I never minded paying for the rest room if I could actually find one! I swear they were more cleverly hidden than Waldo in a Where's Waldo book. It seemed that I spent all my free time looking for restrooms. I'd finally find one and it would be time to get back on the tour bus.

    Things were so difficult that I actually stopped drinking liquid for the most part. I'd have one or two maybe small glasses of water a day. Near the end of our tour we had a horrible day. We were on the bus most of the day, and the only stops were quick ones. I hadn't found a restroom all day, and I was nearly out of my mind with needing to use one. We finally pulled up to this nice little Catholic Cathedral in the middle of Germany. We scrambled off the bus and set up our stuff and I searched again for some kind of a restroom, with out success. Our tyrannical conductor (who I was TERRIFIED of) ordered us onto the front steps of the cathedral to do a sound check.

    I still hadn't found a rest room. No matter how I shifted my weight, I just couldn't manage to get the feeling of needing to use the restroom to disappear. My stomach actually stared to feel extremely nauseated, I had to go to the bathroom that much.
    And finally, in the middle of a beautiful choral piece, my muscles just gave out, and I had an accident right there on the steps. There was a large, yellow puddle. It was so, so NOT good.

    ReplyDelete