Comments (88)
  1. This guy is our generation’s Sven and Michel.

  2. I just know you guys have some great embarrassing moment stories. Please share.

    • I’ll start. One time I scored on my own goal in P.E. class. It was the only soccer goal I’ve ever scored in my life, and for the first couple seconds after I thought it was the crowning moment of my athletic career.

      • I have scored an own basket! And I wasn’t even a child – I was playing coed rec ball, and caught a defensive rebound…and for some reason shot it right back up. I did end up hitting another basket a few games later, but for quite a while it looked like it could be my only score that season.

        …And this isn’t even my most embarassing moment.

      • I have so many, but one time a few months back I was at a restaurant and there was a little step down that I didn’t see, so I stumbled and fell into the arms of a woman sitting at a table nearby. SHE CAUGHT ME IN HER ARMS.

      • I once scored a goal in soccer with a headshot, but the only reason I scored was because I was looking up for the ball and forgot to turn my head back down, so it smacked me in the face and then casually rolled into the goal when the goalie fell down laughing at me.

    • Mine both come when I was somewhere between 3 and 5. My parents are a bit fuzzy. Anyway, I asked a fat woman when her baby was due, then, two weeks later, my parents were outside talking to our next-door neighbors (who were black and happened to have a large number of family members over) and I blurted out, apropos of nothing, “My favorite TV show is The Cosby Show!”

    • When I was five or six I pulled an Al Roker at K-Mart while wearing brightly colored animal-patterned overall shorts. (The overall shorts don’t have anything to do with the story, but they were pretty badass.)

    • When I was five, I was picked as one of the ants to march across the stage in my all-school mandatory choir concert during the song “The Ants go Marching One by One”. It was srs business. We got out of class (kindergarten, man. We were learning how to share) to practice and everything. So of course during the performance I started daydreaming and missed my cue and RUINED EVERYTHING. So I was known as the stupid ant for the better part of a year.

      • When I was about 10 or 11, I walked into my 4th grade classroom. After a few minutes, everyone started complaining that something smelled awful, and slowly murmurs of “who stepped in…?” arose. Sure enough, I checked my shoe, totally covered in some foul dog doo. I tracked it all over the classroom. In my panic, I shouted, “OH NO, IT WAS ME!” at which point the room temperature rose 20 degrees, every single person in that room pointed a finger at me and laughed hysterically. To save face, I immediately ran into the hall crying. I had to throw my shoes away and walk around in socks til my mom came at lunch with some new kicks for me. It was not a happy day for me.

        But, you know, totally over it.

    • when i was in college I had a crush on my hot Italian TA….one day we had a quiz and as I turned it in, he winked at me! Then when I went to leave class, he winked at me again!! Man I thought I was so cool and suave (or whatever the girl version of that was). And THEN as I was trying to open the door and walk through it at the same time, I banged my face into the frame of the window on the door. Of course it made a loud noise and I just walked through, hoping nobody noticed. If that wasn’t bad enough, I had a huge bruise on my face for a week and so anytime anyone asked why I had to tell the story.

    • In 2nd grade I went to reach for something and my desk tipped over with me in it, and it took forever for the teacher to pull me out. I got wedged or something by that stupid bar plus my teacher was a tiny woman. They don’t make kids’ desks like those anymore thankfully.

    • Yay since people are sharing, I’ll up the ante a little and share a story that I never tell out loud because it still makes me cringe.

      The summer of ’09, I was single for the first time since high school and living in New York for a total of two months. I had this idea that I’d meet lots of interesting men and live it up like single girls in NY do on TV. I had very little experience flirting and all that, but I’d gotten a few tips on the arts of seduction. One of the tips I’d heard most was to make flirty eye contact. I tried this one time, at a bar with my (also single female) officemate. I found a good-looking guy sitting with some friends at the bar, and I decided to make eyes at him, all fluttery and coquettish. I made eye contact a few times over the next…man it must have been a while. Eventually, he and his friends got up to leave, and this guy shouts across the bar, “IS THERE SOMETHING ON MY FACE?” The way I remember it, his friends then high-fived him and they all left laughing out loud. This might have happened, but I’m pretty sure I blacked out from embarrassment immediately, so I’m hoping I made that part up.

      I never made eye contact with a good-looking stranger ever again.

      • Someone has to respond to this comment and say, “It’s okay, steph, it happens to everyone.” PLEASE. SOMEBODY.

        • see my above “door/face interaction as a means of flirting” story.

        • I am an even worse flirt and just get confused looks all night. It’s okay, steph, it happens to everyone.

          • Being bad at flirting can turn out so frickin great though. My girlfriend loves to tell people of the first time we ran into each other after our initial meeting. Her opening, friendly gambits were met wonderfully.

            What do you do?
            ……Where do you live?
            In my landlord’s space room.

            I accidentally showed up for our first date stoned, under the impression that we were meeting up later in the evening. And my eventual attempt (sucessful) at inviting her back to my place was “Do you want to go watch Star Trek”

            And because I think many of this have thought what my roommate thought about me, about ourselves: last night, while playing board games with housemates and friends, after I for some reason told the story about how my middle school friend and I would act out scenes from Spaceballs in the bathroom for the amusement of other students, one of my housemates chose to comment “I’m surprised you ever got laid.”

        • It’s not the same but it has the same “men in New York acting like jerks to perfectly nice girls” theme: I once did a brief stint as a keyboard player/backing vocalist for a band, and at the very last show of the last tour I did with them, I had to sing this really high note at the end of the last song of the set and my voice cracked hugely. And that was embarrassing enough, but then these guys in the crowd started doing impressions of me when the song ended. I hid in the “backstage” room until people started leaving and then got very drunk.

      • Oh man, I bet you wished you yelled back “yeah a big booger!”

      • it’s ok steph, it happens to everyone! I mean, not me. But I’m sure lots of people. (JKJKJKJK SO FAR MY BEST GOING OUT PICKUP WAS SOME DUDE I PRETTY MUCH INADVERTENTLY BEAT UNTIL HE DANCED WITH ME. I GUESS MY DANCING STYLE IS VERY ‘FLAIL INTO THE NICE CHAP DANCING NEAR YOU UNTIL HE GIVES UP HIS DANCING INDEPENDENCE).(Also, by far my best pickup line is “So….do YOU like Beowulf?” You’re welcome, ladies).

      • When I went to a skating rink in 7th grade they played El DeBarge’s “Who’s Johnny” and it was my FAVORITE top 40 song ever at the time. And I was so happy and these girls were like “You love this song – Well let’s skate!!!” and kept giggling at me and then all these other kids were laughing at me and pointing at me as I skated by and then I was like what!?!?!!? and I rubbed my face and there was a HUGE booger all over it. So now when I hear “Who’s Johnny” I think of my biggest booger ever.

      • A few months ago, I drunkenly left a note for a cute bartender on my receipt. I have no idea if he found it, but I cringe so much when I think about it. I was a hot mess that night. I really hope it just got thrown away.

        Flirting is hard.

      • oh! Also! ALSO! I work at a theater where I also act sometimes, and I have a giant boner for t his one dude who is basically prom king of the theater (everyone looooves him b/c he is beautiful).

        The only bathroom is not far from the stage and I’m pretty pee shy so I tend not to use it, HOWEVER on this night I had been working for a few hours and drinking lots of coffee and needed to have a quick numero uno.

        So… turns out, I had not locked the bathroom door, and the boy who I had a crush on opened it to see me peeing and checking my FB updates with one hand.

        if the giant shaft of light shining out didn’t alert everyone in the (dark, natch) theater to someone being in the bathroom, I didn’t know what to do so I just started going “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” until the dude closed the door.

        Anytime he sees that my status was “updated via mobile” I just KNOW that he is picturing me on the john. SAD.

      • Well I’ve never been good with flirting but this is somewhere near on the humiliation scale. In 4th grade, my mom somehow convinced me that perming my bangs ONLY (yes, leaving the rest of my hair completely straight) would be a great idea! Being young and naive, I allowed this to happen. At school on Monday, the boy of my elementary school dreams came up to me and said with understandable disgust, “What happened to your hair?!”

        Thanks mom!

      • My senior year of high school, I was out with a group of friends including the guy I was desperately in love with. Everyone else left and it would be just the two of us as I drove him home. So of course I accidentally walked knee-first into my bumper and racked myself across the hood of my car, feet off the ground and everything. Then he fake-casually mentioned he had a girlfriend. Good night!

    • One day when I was in 3rd grade, we were going over our English homework and I had to pee really badly. I raised my hand to go to the bathroom, but as half the class had their hands raised to answer questions from the homework, the teacher didn’t notice and never called on me. After a while I couldn’t hold it in any longer, and came up with the absolutely brilliant idea to just pee my pants a little and then I would be okay. Shockingly enough, that didn’t work and I completely peed my pants. Good times.

    • Oh I’m in love with all of you now and I want to marry you. Beautiful stories.

    • In high school, I was heading to the train station to take the train home, and saw someone I thought (this is the key part) I knew. So, being a high school boy, I decided the appropriate greeting was to tackle him. It turned out he wasn’t who I thought he was. We stared at each other, dead in the eyes, and then I walked away.

      The next year, or the year after, I shared a class with him. We never spoke of the incident and I don’t know if he remembered me or not. I’m pretty sure he remembered the lunatic who tackled him in a train station, then calmly walked away without saying a word.

    • I was effusively describing a crush to a friend at a cafe, and just as I was wrapping up my breathless paean, I noticed she was sitting at the table behind me. I promptly offed myself, because is there another option? P.S. ghost life is great!

    • I was at a friend’s house for a party, outside hanging with some friends. I saw this girl that I really liked sitting in the dining room, so I thought I’d head in and try to make my move. Did I mention that I was kinda drunk? Did I mention that my friend’s place has pristine, glass doors? Did I mention that I don’t have particularly good depth perception? Needless to say, both my face and my pride were hurt.

    • When i was in, i think maybe the 5th grade or so, i was sitting in my Sunday School class bored waiting on the lesson to start and being kind of fidgety. My bible rubbed funny on the chair and made a brrrrap sound that would now make Al Roker flinch. Everybody turned and looked at me and started laughing. I said it was the bible, THE BIBLE RUBBED THE CHAIR! They said if it really was the bible then i could replicate it. I tried so. hard. to get that god damned bible to fake fart again on the chair and it would not. :(

    • When I was like, 7 I was VERY into Married, With Children even though I didn’t understand a lot of the sexual jokes. In one episode, Kelly tells some sexy story that is not very related to a topic but ends up pointing them to some solution and Marcy (oh man. MARCY!) says that she has “the morals of an ally cat”. I, because of context clues, and also Aesop’s Fables assumed that phrase meant “you tell stories that hide the point of what you are saying” and so when my mom told some story around a lot of her adult friends, I was excited to bust out my new zinger and said “hahah. that is a crazy story, mom. you sure have the MORALS OF AN ALLEYCAT!” and then I like, sitcom smiled and waited to bask in the approval of all of her peers for my super awesome stolen quip.

      That is not how it went down. Horrified stares all around and my mom, after like 10 seconds of silence was like “a) do you know that you just called me a slut? and b) have you been watching “Married, With Children” again?”

      I still cringe all the way to my very marrow remembering that moment.

    • Oh man, my life is like a ridiculous slapstick comedy, for real. In fifth grade, I projectile vomited on my bus and half my classmates. In sixth grade, I peed my pants, and had to walk through the entire school, sit in the office, and borrow a spare pair of pants from the kindergarten teacher who keeps some in reserve for the five year olds. In seventh grade, I was called out for period bleeding onto my chair, and wasn’t excused from class to go to the bathroom until I cleaned it up. When I was eighteen, I dressed up for a Pimps and Hos party and won best Ho, someone posted a picture online, and my parents printed it and gave it to my boss to shame me. (My boss’ brother was my date to the party, so they pinned it on the breakroom bulletin board for a month.) The first time I met one of my boyfriend’s family, I had a sty and it burst in front of them, and then their dog peed on my leg. I do full pratfalls and fly face down stairs and walk into walls resulting in great injury at least three times a year. There’s probably a million more examples from the last six years, but after high school I stopped counting.

      • you sound like fun! we should hang out.

      • I spent the summer after my senior year of high school teaching English in Japan. One day, my Japanese roommate took me and a bunch of my American friends to an ofuro, which is like a Japanese bathhouse. My friends are tried to be all cool about wandering into a giant bath house naked, but as we were being cool, I realized I’d forgotten to take my watch off. So, I ran back to the locker room and used the little key on an elastic band around my wrist to open it back up. But when I shut the locker again, the elastic band and the key got caught inside the locker, and there wasn’t enough slack for me to pull out. So I was naked, chained to a locker in Japan, and I didn’t know how to scream for help or get anyone’s attention to help me out.

        I’d still be there, if not for an old man and his young grandson (both naked. Everyone is naked, in this story.) who figured my plight out and, after several minutes of unsuccessfully trying to extricate me from my locker, brought in some of the women who worked at the ofero. They decided to just laugh at me for a few minutes, which got the attention of everyone in the locker room, who all cheered when a spare key was produced. All told, the whole thing took about twenty minutes. I know because my “friends” sneaked back in and video taped the whole thing, which they then played at my welcome home party.

        That’s my most embarrassing moment.

    • When I was 15 a girl I had a crush on told me “I love someone.” She meant me, but I was so dumb that I though she was talking about someone else so I gave her the finger. I went out with her friend instead, who I found out last year ended up being a methhead and is now in prison.

      Last week I fell off my chair while leaning back to pet my dog in front of the whole office.

    • When I was but a girl, I went to a small Catholic school. Every year, we had to prepare songs to sing at a big Christmas concert/mass, and we’d get to leave our classroom and go practice in the church. I can’t remember what grade this was, 5th or after?, but I’m in the church practicing with my entire grade, and someone does something apparently hysterical and we all laugh. And I laugh so hard I fart. And then everyone laughed more, so to rescue the situation and avoid further humiliation, I burst into tears.

      You might be shocked to hear that I didn’t have a lot of friends in elementary school.

      • In middle school, at this same crappy small Catholic school, we’d be allowed to mill around the combined gym/stage room during our lunch hour after we’d finished eating. Because it was a gym/stage, there was a collection of random weight lifting equipment back in a corner in the stage area. My best friend and I, goofing around, decide to try to lift up these weights. And so I pick a dumbbell whose weights haven’t been secured on, and somehow BOTH fall off as soon as I pick the dumbbell up, making a very loud noise that echoes through the gym, thanks to the amazing acoustics of having a fucking stage and basketball court in the same goddamn room.
        Not knowing what to do, I ran away to hide, but for some reason ran across the stage instead of further back into it, revealing to everyone in the gym just who had made the extremely loud noise. I still hid, though, and unfortunately did not die crouching back in the stairway down to the boys’ locker room. BUT, this time I didn’t cry OR fart, so in a way it was a small victory.

        • As an adult lady, I had to get surgery for a retinal detachment. After the surgery, my eye looked kind of red and messed up, so I went around for a week or two wearing sunglasses and a contact in the other eye. I was dating someone new at the time, and to preserve whatever idea of attractiveness I think this person has of me, I keep the sunglasses on while we’re having sex.
          At some point, the guy says he’s worried that he’s going to do something, but I don’t catch what that something is. So, I respond with, “Do you want to?” instead of asking him to repeat himself, because I thought that he was worried he was going to knock my sunglasses off.

          What he had said, though, he was worried that he was going to pop my eye out. Which made my response extremely, extremely, extremely inappropriate.

        • Dear girl, you were never alone in your sadness. When you looked back and saw only one set of hoofprints in the sand, that was when I was carrying you. And when you saw two sets of hoofprints, those were the times when I loaned you a pair of hoof-shoes to make walking across the damp sand a bit less inconvenient. I do not remember what was going on when there were three sets of hoofprints. It’s quite possible that I was in my cups.

    • Aaaand one more. We had Girl Scout Olympics every year when I was a kid and they were on the track at the local community college. There was a low fence between the field and the track, with only two gates, one at either end. I decided I didn’t want to walk all the way down to a gate, so I climbed up the fence, sat on the top, and tried to hop down on the other side. Except the back hem of my shorts caught on the fence, so I just hung there with my feet in the air, kicking and struggling, until my shorts ripped and dumped me on the ground. The rip was several inches high and I was wearing hot pink zebra-print underwear. I had to run track events with one hand in my back pocket in a vain attempt not to flash everyone.

  3. I like to imagine that he really didn’t know that the chain was there. He was just skipping because he was in a great mood and was excited to find where in the store they hid the bubble gum, and whoops.

  4. whenever someone trips I say “Smooth move ex-lax” to this DAY. HAHAHAHA! TRUE STORY. This has to be a gif.

    • That’s hilarious. I do the same thing! But not when people fall down, but when they poop their pants. But the same thing!

  5. Excuse me, where do you keep your Kacca? Oh, aisle 1? The KACCA aisle. Okay, thanks.

  6. This whole thread, omg LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLLLLLLL

  7. If there is any justice in the world please let all the things that fell on him be health and fiber snack bars.

  8. I like the way the ex lax is in aisle one, along with the Kacca

  9. Watching the last 45 seconds where nothing happened muted my joy of the initial spectacle. I’m a “What have you done for me lately (with “lately” = last few seconds) kind of clown.

  10. More so than I have in a while I really needed a laugh today. Thank you!

  11. When I was 11 years old I was at the mall. For whatever reason, they like to put signs and advertisements in the middle of where people are walking. I was busy looking at the items in the various store fronts. Too busy, in fact, to see the large metal sign right in front of me. I smacked full force into it and bounced backwards.

    As the sign proceeded to reverberate from my impact, I quickly whipped my head around praying no one had seen me. Unfortunately, the first thing I see is a store employee, in the entrance of the store, doubled over in laughter.

    A couple years before that, I proudly announced to my parents and grandparents that I had discovered the word “fornication” in the game of Boggle we were playing. Not only did I not spell the word correctly, but I had no idea what the word meant. …and THAT is what happens when you make your kid sit through sermons at church.

  12. I can’t believe I was away from my computer today, ugh. This thread rules.

    I will tell the tale of my first kiss — oh, embarrassing. I was weeks away from turning 16 and in a silent panic, because I somehow had it in my head that if you turned 16 without having been kissed yet, it augured certain loserdom through the rest of high school and possibly doom in life. But I’d finally found a girl who could tolerate me and I asked her out. We went to a movie…

    But I was 15; I could not drive. So her mom picked me up and drove us to the theater. My mom picked us up after the movie and drove her back to her place…

    Naturally, being a gentleman, I decided to walk this poor girl from my mom’s car to her front door. She had a curved, narrow driveway and lived in the middle of nowhere, so there were no lights, even in her house, but I was very glad about the lengthy walk and the dark because I imagined they were helping me gather and hide my thoughts, which amounted to This is it, the kiss part, your first kiss, be smooth, be confident, AAAAAHHHHH!!!! and then we reached her door. We faced each other in the moonlight and after minimal stammering I finally leaned in to deliver the kiss. Her eyes went half-closed, and she leaned toward me. And the exact instant our lips touched, two things happened: One, my mom, having decided to swing the car around, accidentally (or not?) planted the headlights on us like klieg lights and two, her mom, not realizing I was there too (or: realizing??) yanked open the front door wearing a bathrobe to let her daughter in and — either because I startled her or the headlights did — she screamed.

    The girl yelled something garbled and fled into the dark house. I fled to the car and didn’t speak the whole ride home. But I also thought: “Whew, that counts. A kiss.”

    • This is a very good tale with which I’m sure many among us can identify. You’ve made mention of a novel in progress in the past, Mr. Hotspur. I do not think I’m alone when I express my wish that you finish it.

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