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The Friday Knight Writers' LoungeTales Of Embarrassment |
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I was having a bad day. So I posted this in the Friday Knight Writers' Lounge. ***** Posted by Girl Friday I don't know if the rest of you are in the same funk I am or not ... but I will tell you that I'm tired of it. I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of having nothing to say. I'm tired of being upset and depressed. So here's what I'm going to do. No Quiz, No Poll, No Tease, No Fest. Just take a few minutes and tell us about your most embarrassing moment or the funniest thing that happened to you or some special event that still brings a smile to your face. I don't want anything sad ... I got enough sad to go around. I'll even start the festivities. One of the funniest things I can remember is when I was a senior in high school (1988 if you must know). My boyfriend and I were standing around with a group of friends, just chatting before classes that morning. The halls were full and there were students everywhere. My best friend, Lynne, snuck up behind my boyfriend, Brian, and pantsed him. What made it funny was Brian was in sweats and hadn't tied the drawstring. When Lynne grabbed his sweats and pulled, she inadvertently got his boxer shorts too. Brian didn't even realize what had happened for a few moments because Lynne was so smooth and so fast. He stood there naked from the waist down with his pants around his ankles, talking to his best friend about their homework. The look on his face when he realized his dick was hanging out for all to see was absolutely priceless. It was truly a naked in school moment! Now it's your turn ... c'mon I need a laugh. Friday ***** All of the stories that follow are true tales of embarrassment as experienced by the members of the FKWLounge. Some of them involve sex, some don't. All of them are hilarious. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did. ***** Posted by R. Vargas This was about 11 or 12 years ago. I just started spending time with my mom after a long time apart. We weren't staying in the same house and she decided to call one of her roommates to let them know she wouldn't be home. Surprise surprise, a stranger answers the phone and tells her that he is a guest setting up for a lesbian wedding reception that is taking place the next day, without my mom's knowledge. We hightail it over to the house and see a long, and I do mean LONG convoy of cars heading from the house going the other direction. I wound up going to the wedding reception after doing some house cleaning where I lived. My mom and I were dusty, frumpy, and just didn't fit in. I had a blast. I did have one question that never got answered... which one was the groom? ***** Posted by Rod Ramsey Back in oh, '81 or early '82 I had just started a new job. My boss was only a couple of years older than me. He was showing me around the office and introducing me to the other employees. There was this one, Kendra, long blonde, blue eyes, great tits. You know the type. It was love at first sight and I made the comment after we walked back out that "I would love to get into her pants." His reply, "UM, Dude that's my sister." Oopsie. Turned out she was and her hubby was the regional manager. Never said another word about liking a girl in that office. Rod ***** Posted by MycroftXXX1 My daughter was of the age where she would repeat everything my wife and I said. She was also very good at connecting events to phrases that needed to be said. Needless to say, this learning process was forcing my wife and I to be more careful about certain words and phrases when our daughter was in hearing range. We were driving along in our home town one summer afternoon. All four car windows were down to enjoy the beautiful day. We had stopped at a light waiting for it to change. Just as the light changed to allow us to make a left turn, a driver ran the light cutting us off. It was an elderly lady with her windows down as well. I leaned into the horn but said nothing because my daughter was in the back seat. My little girl noticed the horn went off but Daddy wasn't saying the words that needed to be said for that event. So, with her little girl voice speaking as strongly as Daddy would have if he said it, she yelled "ASSHOLE!!!!" just as the other car passed. The little old lady's chin must of hit the steering wheel when she looked into my car to see who yelled that at her. I turned around to look back at my daughter who was sitting in her car seat with an ear-to-ear grin beaming out at me, proud as she could be. She was so happy she was able to help her Daddy...... [g] Mx ***** Posted by Mr. Freeze Since most of the stories are fairly sexual or exhibitionist in nature, I offer this experience. I was at Holiday World, a small traditional amusement park in Southern Indiana over the summer. As many here know, I am an avid roller coaster enthusiast and I was at the park for a coaster enthusiast event. These events are a good chance for enthusiasts to meet other enthusiasts and get to know them. One of the enthusiasts I met was someone I had chatted with quite a bit online with and it was a very nice female. For this story we will call her Sharon (to protect the innocent). Anyways, Sharon agreed to ride Raven with me. Raven is one of the park's two wooden roller coasters and was voted top wooden roller coaster in the country for the past three years. Sharon and I chose to sit in the very last row of the train, as this is where one can get the most coveted "airtime". We are both riding with our hands in the air and go through the first drop and turnaround with no problems. When we go down the second drop, Sharon screams really loud. I think nothing of it and the ride continues on its merry way. We get off the ride and she is red as a brand new Ferrari. I ask her what's up and she says that her shirt rode up all the way on the second drop. She then proceeds to tell me (God I wish I wasn't married at that very time) that she wasn't wearing a bra. She then said she was glad that it was a very secluded part of the ride away from the main midways and off in the woods where no one would see it. I agreed and told her I wish I would have looked over and we both chuckled at my remark. Anyways, about an hour later someone else was talking about the great pictures they got on the photo walkback of Raven. It hit me like a ton of bricks when I realized that they had a special walkback in the employee areas of Raven for enthusiasts to take pictures. That photo walkback started at 4pm. Sharon and I had been on the ride at about 4:15. I think Sharon realized what that meant to because she was as pale as a ghost after she heard about the walkback. Now if anyone out there has the pictures my email address is at the top of this message... Cheers, Freeze. ***** Posted by Roxanne L. Green Sometimes it is fun to embarrass the husband who delights in embarrassing his wife. This is one of those times. He wasn't my husband yet, at least not officially, but we had signed the cohabitation agreement. Stan and I spent the first few months of 1993 and the first few months of 1994 on a yacht in the Caribbean. The yacht was owned by friends of my dad's. The friend's son and daughter-in-law (mid- to late-30s) were using the yacht, and there were about a dozen couples aboard, with people coming and going. All it cost us was our share of the food plus tips to the crew. We were the youngest on board, with the oldest being in their early 40s. We put in at a small town on one of the islands. We were in our swim suits -- mine pretty skimpy but not a string bikini -- and walked maybe half a mile through town, then up a small river (or large stream) another half mile to a waterfall we had been told about. We were just wearing swimsuits and shoes. We were alone, and it was pretty, so the shoes came off and we went into the water. We "fooled around" some, and nature took its course, and in due time we were on a ledge behind the falls, barefoot all over. When we were finished, we could find 4 shoes, but only one suit. I'm pleased to report it was mine, or this story wouldn't be anywhere nearly as funny. It wasn't too long until sunset, which was sailing time. There probably wasn't enough time, or enough daylight, for me to hustle back, get Stan some clothing, go back to somewhere just outa town where he'd be hiding, and then get on board before sailing. They would have waited on us, but it was more a matter of no light to show me the way. We tried to fashion a girdle of vines and leaves, with his shoes strategically placed to afford him some modesty. To compound the problem, the only way to the dock was right through the main street of town, and the town constable's office was right at the pier. A couple hundred yards downstream, we spied what looked like his suit, snagged on a log in some pretty fast running water. I went downstream about 50 yards to a wide, fairly calm part of the waterway, to try and play goalie, should Stan succeed in dislodging it, but fail to capture it. He waded out and did get his trunks loose, but he couldn't grab them. He screamed they were on the way, and I did catch them. Just barely. The right leg was torn all the way up to the elastic at the waistband. From the front, the left side, and from the back, he was decent. From the right side, he was kinda all on display, and he was somewhat aroused too. We decided I'd walk on his right, as we went through town, to shield him. As we came to small groups of people in town, I'm afraid I was a step or two farther back than I should have been, and not by accident. He did get some hoots and whistles and catcalls. The folks on board -- even some of the men -- thought it was a lot funnier than Stan did. There have been several incidents of oneupsmanship over the years. I am more easily embarrassed than he is, so he gets me more often, and to a greater extent, than I get him. ***** Posted by Alienor In college, I had a summer job helping out the secretaries during registration. Since the translation school I went to was a separate program inside the college, I only did registration for those future translators. It let me meet all my friends from the previous year and all the newbies. Some people had been admitted directly into 2nd year. One of them, a guy from New-Zealand, I noticed. Besides the fact that he was wearing a thick down jacket in the middle of a pretty sunny French September, he was really cute, and had absolutely gorgeous eyes, green and blue, with long black lashes. I mentioned his eyes in passing to one of the profs (may she rot in hell), who had asked me about the new 2nd year students. At the beginning of the first class we had with her that year, she checked attendance. When she came to the new guy, she looked at me and said, aloud and in front of the whole class: "You're right, he has gorgeous eyes." Well, anyway, it turned out that the guy was gay as a goose, so... Alienor ***** Posted by Frank Downey OK, It's Christmas Eve. I'm dating "Alexandra" (yes, from the story). I'm over her house. It's late at night. I'm 18, she just turned 17. Her parents had gone to bed, and Alex assured me that they were sound sleepers. So, we're on the couch, pretending to watch TV. She's wearing a skirt. She's *not* wearing panties--they had quickly been discarded. One guess as to where my hand is. Her hand was in a similar place, having unzipped my pants so she could go exploring. We are--thank goodness--covered by a blanket, as it was cold. So, there we are, fondling away, when suddenly we hear a noise. We look up, and there's her father. "Just needed a glass of water," he says. Lovely. I have two fingers buried in his daughter's pussy. Alex, of course, comes just about close to panicking. "Don't worry," I whispered, "He can't see a thing beneath the blanket. Just don't move." We freeze there--which is tough considering where our hands were--and wait for him to go upstairs. He peers back into the room, and says, "Good Night." And then he looks down. To the floor. Where, in complete plain sight, were Alex's panties! He looks up at us, back down to the panties floor, and back up at us again. Finally--he shrugs and heads back up the stairs! Postscript: Alex's mom died a few years back. Alex's dad remarried. His new wife has a teenaged daughter. I see him all the time, he comes in my store. I was kidding him one day and said, "So, you're back to having a teenager in the house again, eh?" And he said, "Well, it's not bad. She's a good kid. No problems so far. I mean, it's not like I've come down for a drink of water and found her panties on the floor or anything like that!" [G] --Frank ***** Posted by Ed Houle Back in high school, in the late 70s, our 'gang' used to meet every morning before class in the cafeteria -- coffee and a smoke before class. We were a reasonably open-minded group, so one chap we often joined was an (ex?) biker who absolutely looked the part. He was huge, arms as big around as my leg, tattoos, the whole nine yards. He was usually there with his girlfriend. One morning the girlfriend wasn't there, so my bud, John, sat next to Rick the biker. The conversation was flowing along well, when Rick reached over and put his hand on John's leg and started gently rubbing. John gingerly brought this detail to Rick's attention. With impressive aplomb, Rick said, "oh, I'm bi before 9." Ed Houle ***** Posted by Roxanne L. Green As long as I told one on my husband, I might as well tell one on myself. I was in high school. I was spending the summer up in Idaho with my dad, working mostly in the mill, but I was taking a summer school class, and had all the time off I wanted to take. I had a "thing" for this boy from school, although I no longer remember his name. He invited me out to the lake, for his family's picnic. I was thrilled. I wore a fairly modest bikini, with a crop top t-shirt and jogging shorts over it, and topped it all off with a hot yellow mesh coverup. We got to the lake, and were met by other members of this boy's family. They had set up the whole nine yards. Food, beer for us under-aged kids, and two ski boats. I had never water skied, so I just rode in the tow boat. Eventually, I got up my nerve and tried it. Nobody warned me .... I'm an excellent athlete, and very well coordinated. Getting up was easy. They didn't go very fast at first, and I completed the ride without mishap. I did it three more times that morning. I kept after them to take me faster, and to swing me wider. It was the last ride before lunch. They swung me over another boat's wake. I blew the jump, and got horizontal to the water, finally doing a belly flop and got dragged quite a distance, but I didn't let go of the tow rope! Not me, Oh no, I wasn't gonna be some pansy who couldn't hang on. My suit couldn't hang on however. I didn't realize it at the time however. The water just peeled my top right off of me and I never saw it again. When you are wet, you aren't aware of your suit. I was treading water as the boat came around to pick me up. The boy lifted me from the water, and I felt my bottoms slip off of my ankle and into the lake. If I had planned this exposure, I probably would not have been embarrassed. This one I didn't plan however. The guys were staring, and I was crying. None of the guys had a shirt. They didn't even have a blanket or any other fabric on the boat that I could use for cover. Nobody offered me a Coast Guard approved personal flotation device. We were on the far side of the lake. It seemed to take hours to get back to the beach, but it was probably less than thirty minutes. I spent the first part of the ride face down under the seat, but that hurt. Finally I sat on the seat, hands over my breasts, legs tightly together. The guys would offer to equalize the state of undress, and I'd start to cry again. Somebody brought me a towel, which I covered up with, and waded to shore. There weren't a lot of extra clothes, and what there was didn't fit real well. I slid my running shorts on under the towel, and put my t-shirt on over it, minimizing my exposure. The top was short enough that when I stood, anybody sitting saw the bottom half of my breasts from the nipples down, and if I bent over, everything showed. The mesh beach robe helped to keep the top in place. I'm sure the baggy shorts with the high leg slit made an interesting presentation too. The guy wouldn't take me home at the time, because he wanted to water ski some more after lunch. Several of the women and girls walked around to an almost deserted beach, where everyone was sunbathing nude. My breasts had seen the sun before, but that was my first time tanning naked. His aunt told me not to let the men get my goat. She told me a similar thing happened to her, and once she started acting like she wasn't concerned, the guys let up. That made sense to my sixteen year old mind. When the guys came back in, we dressed, and when the teasing resumed, I acted like I was unconcerned. Strangely, when I acted like it wasn't such a big deal, it ceased to be such a big deal. I was still embarrassed, but had decided it wasn't gonna be fatal. The guy wanted me to go into the woods with him. Frankly, I was prepared to let him convince me, before the bikini disappeared and the teasing began. It didn't happen. I never dated him again. The story did circulate through school. Luckily, there was only one more week, and in September, I was back home, at school in California. ***** Posted by Paul Story OK... So this happened at my ten-year high school reunion weekend (no, I will not tell you how long ago it was!) Friday night, we get together for a casual hangout at a downtown bar, just to catch up, introduce spouses, show off baby pictures, whatever. Eventually, I catch wind of this rumor, that apparently, one of our former classmates (he's not present on Friday night) is now an "adult entertainer." Someone, a friend of a friend of one of the attendees, thought they saw his face (among other things) on an erotic pay-per-view movie in a hotel room. This is huge scandal for us. The guy in question (I'll call him "Greg") was *the* BMOC in high school, quarterback on the football team, dating the head cheerleader for three years. Clean-cut, all-American, polite to the teachers, all that jazz. So Saturday, at our lunch event, Greg shows up. And this is when I start to believe the story, because he looks the part. Greasy hair slicked back into a ponytail, oxford shirt with the top three buttons open, etc. I shake hands and make polite chit-chat, finding out that he lives in LA. I don't have the guts to ask him what he does for a living, and I don't hear anyone else ask either. Saturday night, we have the grown-up version of the prom. Dinner and dancing. Midway through the evening, they play the stupid prizes game -- who's been married the longest, who has the most kids, who traveled furthest to get here, etc. Some of the categories are subjective, and the winner declared by audience applause. We get to one of the categories like that. The DJ announces that the next prize is for "most unusual job." Every single head in the room swivels to look at Greg. I mean, absolutely every pair of eyes is focused on him, and the room is silent. Greg gets all red in the face, but heads up to the mike to accept his prize. He takes the microphone from the DJ, and says, "I just want to say one thing. It's NOT porn." "It's soft porn." [G] Cheer up Friday!! I've had a bit of the doldrums this week too. Paul ***** Posted by Catmandu99 Right before Christmas I manage to win some tickets to a concert featuring several bands hosted by a local radio station. I had called on a lark - never expecting to win. The concert was that weekend, so I had to be at the radio station by 5pm to pick up the tickets. Unfortunately, I was sick. I am also prone to get lost just trying to find my way home. I left work early and decided to find this radio station and get my tickets. I, of course, got lost. After 20 minutes of driving around trying to find a radio station that was (supposedly) only 3 miles from where I work, I decided to stop and ask for directions back to the interstate so that I could just go home. The concert was a lost cause. The building I stopped at was a nice 2 story brick building. It looked for all the world like a nice office building. It was only as I was walking toward the front door that I noticed the big gold letters that said "XXX" over the door. With a shrug, I decided to go in anyway. Hey...I write erotica. I wasn't skeered. Boy the looks I got from the guys in the store. The guy behind the counter was laughing so hard that he could barely give me directions. He quickly moved me out the door to talk. His comment was that it was "unusual" to have a woman come in...especially just looking for directions. I merely asked, "Why not? Nothing bites, does it?". "Only if you pay extra," was his reply. My co-workers still razz me about spending time at 12th and Division shopping for porn. Road trip, ***** Posted by Heathen Hmmmm. There are so many. One that happened during my 20th HS reunion. First remember that I was not in the "upper crust" crowd. I was smart enough that when someone wanted help, they asked me, but otherwise I was not one of the popular kids. We arrived at the Picnic to stares. Most of the guys were either balding, overweight, or both. I had gained weight as well, but since I had been seriously underweight then, I looked about normal. Also as most of you know, my hair is down to the middle of my back. The point of telling you this is that the further the day progressed, the more the beer flowed and everybody got a little loose. One of the Pom Pom girls forgot her snobbish ways and decided to get, shall we say "cozy". She followed me around the rest of the afternoon. She would lay her hand on my arm, stand as close as possible when talking, and even made sure to rub her breasts against my arm and shoulder. Sounds like the start of a good erotic story, right? But remember that my WIFE was standing on the other side of me the whole time! Talk about a case of nerves. Of course she doesn't say a word. Figuring I was a dead man, especially when the woman asks if I would escort her to the bathroom. I politely refused, and when she was out of hearing, my devious wife burst into laughter. She had seen everything but since it was oblivious the woman in question was wasted, she just found it hysterical. To this day, my wife will bring this up much to my embarrassment. Heathen ***** Posted by be287m I'm back in town visiting my grad school girlfriend. She's living in a two bedroom apartment with two other women. After a few months of discovering that none of them liked sharing a room with the others, they came up with an innovative solution--they converted the dining room to a third bedroom by hanging sheets floor to ceiling. One couldn't see what was happening on the other side, but of course one could hear everything. This was my girlfriend's "bedroom." So after spending way too long socializing, her roommates and their boyfriends decide to head out, promising to be gone for a while. We take advantage of the empty apartment and are going at it in her "bedroom" and it's getting hot and heavy, with her on top. Suddenly the door to the apartment opens, and one roommate's boyfriend calls out "Hi Honey! I'm home!" Right as I start cumming. Loudly. Which of course they can easily hear on the other side of the sheets. (and trust me, "Hi Honey! I'm home!" is not a phrase one wishes to have associated with sex. :-)) My girlfriend jumps off and goes to intercept them. This has two effects. The first is that she fails to snag any clothes and inadvertently shows the roommate's boyfriend everything. The second is that I'm still spurting semen, which is now going everywhere. The roommates burst out laughing as she comes back to our side of the sheet and we try to clean things up so we can go out and be social again. Needless to say, we got a hotel room for all future visits. be287m ***** Posted by Erik Thread In high school back in the early sixties, still living at home, my girl friend lived in the next town and I got a chance to see her only once a week -- or twice at most. I figured out a plan: I set my alarm for three am when I was sure my parents would be asleep. I crept out of the house, got in my mom's car and let it roll down the hill out of the driveway -- and started it after I was beyond sight and sound from my house. I couldn't operate the windshield wipers because that would provide evidence of the car being used, so I drew artificial "drip lines" vertically on the windshield in the dew and then I peered carefully through the drip lines I had created as I drove. I would get to her house in about a half-hour, rap on her window to wake her up and she exited out the sliding door in the rear of the house. We spent an hour together quietly "having fun" and then she would creep back into the house through the unlocked door and I would drive home, pulling into the driveway with the ignition off and coasting to the spot where my mom usually parked. Then I would get back into my house, crawl into bed to sleep for a while before my parents got up for work. I did this 1-2 times a week for month. One night when I was escorting my girl friend back to her house, the sliding door was locked! Locked from the inside. No entry from the outside! PANIC! We did find that her bedroom's sliding window could be jimmied open, however. So in the dark we got the screen off, opened the window, and I boosted her up the five feet so she could scramble in and close the window while I tried to replace the screen. All this rigamarole took extra time. Would I get caught when I got home? Just as I crawled into bed I heard my parents alarm ringing in their bedroom. I breathed a sigh of relief... I had just made it home in time. I continued to date her a few more weeks; night visits were cut back to a lesser number, however! Erik Thread ***** Posted by Erik Thread Following high school graduation, a buddy and I went camping to Yosemite for a week. Each night, back then, all the valley visitors would gather to view the "Firefall". During the day, park workers would build a giant bonfire on Glacier Point and at 9:00 pm they would push them off the cliff and the glowing embers would stream down the face of the mountain in a long waterfall of fire. (They don't do this anymore.) My buddy and I scouted out some great spots to view the Firefall with the girls we planned to meet sometime later. I found the perfect spot: A shallow basin in a cliff wall beneath a tree that had filled the depression with dried leaves. A nice, comfortable bed to view the Firefall -- and then a tricky descent from the perch would make my yet-to-be-found companion a somewhat captive audience. Everything worked out perfectly. We found a couple of cute honeys and took them to our spot. She and I climbed up to my nest. And then my plans fell apart: the nice, soft bed of leaves were under a holly tree and the leaves were sharp, pointy, very uncomfortable holly leaves. Well, that night was not much of a success. But at least it wasn't poison oak. Erik Thread ***** Posted by Arty This happened a long, long time ago when I was 18 and my girlfriend was 16/17. A group of us were celebrating completing our 'A' levels and hence leaving school and moving on. (We didn't have a tradition of school proms in the UK then - and anyhow I'd been organizing all the 6th form events for a year and didn't want to do another one.) So we met at a wine bar and drank and talked and drank and ate and drank until it was time to go home. My girlfriend (who's now my wife) was somewhat the worse for wear. Since this was the first time that she'd let herself get drunk she and I were having a great time discussing things in the way that drunken people usually do. We made it to her house expecting to be able to sneak her upstairs with minimal interaction with her parents when we arrived to find the house lit up and a surprise visit still in progress from distant relatives. So now my girlfriend and I have to spend at least a ten minutes making polite conversation and not swaying too much as the room circles gently around us. Finally we are able to make our excuses and leave. At the bottom of the stairs I tell her that on no account should she try and sleep flat on her back or she is likely to be sick. And I leave before her mother gets suspicious. She told me later that she used all her pillows to prop herself up, but that her mother kept popping in to see if she were alright and taking the pillows away! At which point my wife/gf would have to get up put them back the way she wanted them and try and get back to sleep - only for her mum to come back in and the whole cycle would start again! We were never sure: was my mother-in-law _that_ clueless? Or was she trying to administer some kind minor revenge? [For the record I cycled home (about four miles) and didn't fall off once so I wasn't _that_ drunk! 8-)] Arty ***** Posted by Lambert Bogers Well I do still know two embarrassing tales from some time ago... First was when I must have been about 10 and my sister 8. My parents decided to give her first earrings. Two small, unadorned knobs whose purpose was to create the holes... Things went really smooth for my sister, as they were shot in with something of a pistol designed for it, she didn't cry at all. I was something else entirely, crying all the tears she didn't and some extra... Of course it wasn't funny to me at the time, but it was for everyone else: The little girl not batting an eye and the big bro trying to flood the shop. I can smile about it now though (with a tear tho)
The other tale is when I went drinking with a few guys (and gals) from my after school job at the mall. Friday night after work we had a blast at the pub in the mall. After I cycled home (about 3km), I thought I wasn't so drunk after all, having made it without mishap so far. Since my parents were already asleep I decided to take my shoes off before going trying to sneak upstairs. In my room I collapsed on bed and woke up at about 10 or 11 and went downstairs for breakfast ('kay brunch). My dad asked if it had been late that night. I answered that we had a few drinks after work, but it wasn't that late. He quipped right back: "Because I found your shoes on the way down, almost tripped over them." I think I turned pretty red at that... So maybe I was that drunk after all... Lambert Bogers ***** Posted by Alienor OK, so we'll keep piling them on. I was 15 and I was spending my summer at my grandma's, like every year (when your grandma has a big house with a large swimming pool on the French Riviera, this is definitely not a lame way to spend the summer). My sister, who's 15 years older than I, was there too, with her husband and kids. Her eldest was 2 and the boy was a couple of months old. The day after we got there, my sister and I went grocery shopping in the nearby village. She left the napping newborn with daddy and we took the 2 year old with us. The dear girl started making a fuss (at the top of her lungs) while we were checking out at the grocery store, so I told Sis I'd walk her to the nearby bakery, since we were going to stop there anyway. In the bakery, the lady at the register chats with me while another customer is buying éclairs and stuff: did I just get there? and how was my grandma? And that little girl is so cute (the brat was hoping to get some candy, I bet). Oh, and she'd heard that I'd had another baby. Well, I guess I must have looked a very mature 15... Alienor ***** Posted by Ed Houle One more, but not for those of you with the flu: I’m sure there are lots of these “precious” moments since high school, but I can’t think of any at the moment, and hey, high school seems to be such a focus of this group. Another high school event that does come to mind was “model parliament,” which sadly has since become extinct. Students create political parties, everyone in the school votes, and then there’s two days where the successful candidates behave as if they were actually in Parliament, wearing suits and trying to make some useful (or, more importantly, witty) contribution to the debate. More important than the debates, of course, was the wind-up party. After the last session was prorogued, our gang headed for the local watering hole, known (not particularly affectionately) as the “Dead Mexican” (which should tell you all you need to know about both the cuisine and the skill of the cook). Perhaps the chief virtue of this establishment, now long since gone, was the rather blind eye they turned to the legal drinking age. Wanting a head start on the evening’s festivities, we imbibed on the then-local version of “high test” beer, which was truly hideous but had something like an 8% alcohol content. This served to wash down a truly execrable Hawaiian pizza. Andrew, one of our seat-mates in Parliament, and a fairly fussy chap, had procured his mother’s car for the evening, and to his credit behaved responsibly, notwithstanding that the term “designated driver” had yet to enter the lexicon. This was a rare privilege for Andrew, and the other four or five of us were repeatedly admonished not to get anything dirty, and for God’s sake no smoking in the car. One of our number wanted to stop at home and change before we headed off to the party, so the rest of us sat underneath a big pine tree to wait for him, finishing some purloined high test. Then it was off out to the country to the party, which was a huge success. One of our number, Steve, was rather older, having failed one or more grades, and befitting his advanced age styled himself as a drinker of some renown. He was particularly enamoured of the tequila that seemed to be abundantly available at the shindig, and seemed quite the happy camper as the party ground to a close and we poured ourselves into Andrew’s mother’s car for the ride home. Steve sat in the front with Andrew, while the rest of us piled into the back. We chatted away until, about half way home, I looked to the front of the car and saw what looked suspiciously like pineapple on the dashboard. I hadn’t recalled seeing anything like that there before, and it seemed like quite the odd ornament. Then Andrew screamed, “Out the window, Steve! Out the window!” Steve, now somewhat stupoured, did attempt to roll the window down, but with too little success for what followed. We stopped the car and let Steve out to let out anything that remained to be let out. Andrew was beside himself. John’s parents were away, though, and we consoled Andrew that we could stop at John’s place and get the car cleaned up better than any detailing shop. In the event, it was an instance of false advertising. Leaving Steve lying bonelessly on the lawn, we got out buckets of soapy water, rags, a vacuum, and anything else we could think of, and went to work in the dark. After a half an hour or so, we were reasonably satisfied with the results – everything in the front looked clean and orderly, just a bit wet. That’s when some rocket scientist decided that all we needed now was heat to dry out the upholstery. Unfortunately, turning on the heater told us that Steve’s contribution to the evening had migrated into the vents. Someone produced air freshener, and we went back to work. At this point Andrew decided to inspect the back as well, and to his horror noticed dark spots on the seat. “You guys burned the #$@(^% seat with your cigarettes!” he screamed. Of course none of us had smoked in the car (how the hell could you hide that, anyway?), but it did indeed look like cigarette burns. John, still working under the influence of much imbibing, put his arm around Andrew’s shoulder and said, “not to worry, mate – we’ll get it fixed up and your mom won’t know a thing.” Whereupon he went into the garage and produced a grinding wheel for an electric drill. Thus armed, they went to work on the “burns,” rather to the detriment of the upholstery. Some days later, much too late to be of any help of course, someone put two and two together and realized that the offending material was pine-tree sap, which could have been easily removed with a bit of turpentine. Sigh. I don’t recall that Andrew suffered any severe repercussions for the incident. The rest of us were left with one of what would become many “Steve throwing up” stories. Ed Houle ***** Posted by Tom Schroeder Sorry for the delay... I'll enter the "Embarrassment Fest" with both feet, in a story/narrative form First of all, Friday, I feel the funk as well, and I'm not trying to quote George Clinton here I was dating my future wife, Karen, staying at her at the co-op house she was living at. We had been dating for about 2 weeks at this point. Anyway, we were, ahem, *busy*, when we heard a knock at the front door, and a roommate of Karen's opened the door and Karen heard the voice, stopping our session rather quickly. "Oh shit", she said. "What is it", I replied, more than a little annoyed at the interruption of the moment. "It's my mom!" Now you have to understand the layout of the house. It was an old Victorian, with two stories, and a greeting area with a small living room area with a parlor straight in from the door. The parlor had been converted into a bedroom, with double wooden doors with glass separating us from the rest of the house. Flimsy curtains were the only thing keeping folks from actually seeing inside, although I knew you could certainly see outlines of people through the material. I could see the outline of Karen's roommate and mother through them, after all. Karen looked around frantically, repeating, "Shit, shit, oh Gawd, not *now*!" "What should I do?" I asked. All of this took place in seconds, as we both knew her mother was headed to the bedroom. "Get behind the bed", Karen replied, with no other idea. Even if I scrambled off the bed at this point, that would have been seen. Being *completely* inexperienced about dealing with a parent of a daughter I was sexually active with (I had lost my virginity to Karen just a week or so before), I did as she said, and quick. Thoughts of sharp objects or firearms went through my head even though Karen is older than I am and had been living away from home for some time. I maneuvered myself to the edge of the bed against the wall, positioning myself so that I was wedged halfway down the side; not quite on the floor, but not on the bed either. My "Kickstand" was out, as it were, helping to wedge me in position, although it wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, and Karen threw the comforter over where I was to look like she had just gotten out of bed, as her mother knocked on the door. She opened the door, and Karen tried to usher her out quickly into the Living Room area, but, of course, her mom was having none of that. I had a gap in the comforter enough to where I could see what was going on, at least through one eye. Her mom kept walking forward, talking to Karen, until they were semi in the bedroom. Her mom then engaged in, what seemed to me at least, to be a forever conversation. In the meantime, I desperately tried to keep the "kickstand" in place, knowing that if I slipped at all the jig was up. Anyway, her mom talked to Karen, talking saying things like, "How are you? What's new in your life? How's work?" While in the meantime, I'm trying to both stay still and think of every Supermodel I could think of just to stay in place. Things finally wound down, and I thought I had, and Karen thought so as well at the time, she said later, fooled her mom. However, as she was walking out the door, to leave, her mom said, "Oh, and by the way, would you *please* get your boyfriend to come out from behind the bed? He looks uncomfortable!" I fell to the floor laughing... Anyway, there's my most embarrassing moment. Tom ***** Posted by Girl Friday Yet another episode from my youth ... It's my junior year in high-school, the last day of school before Easter vacation. The teachers are just as ready for the break as the students are, so not much is going on in class. I'm in Spanish class with a bunch of my friends, talking quietly amongst ourselves as everyone else chatters around us. My friend Tammy was going on a cruise over Easter. None of us had been on a cruise, so we were talking about things she might get to do while onboard. Now you have to realize that every single once of us had lost our virginities at some point during junior year, so naturally the conversation turned to boys and sex. Tammy had some rather ... eccentric ... tastes in the male species and we were trying to decide if she was likely to get any action during vacation. Class is winding down and we are still chattering merrily along. Knowing the bell was going to ring soon, I wanted to give Tammy one last piece of advice before she left. My back was turned, so I didn't see the teacher, Mrs. Frasier, rise to her feet in the front of the room. The classroom, plenty loud enough to cover our conversation, went completely dead silent in response to Mrs. Frasier, just as I uttered ... "Whatever you do ... DO NOT GET PREGNANT!" *Everyone* heard me, including Mrs. Frasier. Pinning my burning face with a steely glare, she said ... "Si, senorita, I should hope not." Is this the end of the story ... I only wish. Fast forward twelve months. My senior year, same last day before Easter Break, beginning of English class. Mrs. Frasier is substituting for my normal teacher. I look at her and remember with embarrassment the previous year. Train of though winds through all memories of Spanish class and I remember a stupid cow hand puppet Mrs. Frasier used to use to make class funny. She had a name for that damn cow ... what the hell was it? I sat there for 20 minutes, completely ignoring English class, trying to remember the name of the stupid cow puppet. Finally, in a blinding flash it ... the name comes to me. I'm so engrossed in my own little world and thrilled that I finally remember the name, I slap my hand down on my desk and shout: "Maca Vaca! That cow's name was Maca Vaca!" Needless to say, class comes to a screaming halt around me. I'm once again sitting in my chair with a burning face and Mrs. Frasier pinning me with a steely glare. "Si senorita, Maca Vaca is the cow's name and I assure you, she didn't get pregnant. But this is not Spanish class, it's English class. May I continue ...?" If I ever get a chance, I'm sending Mrs. Frasier to rot in hell right beside Ali's teacher. Friday ***** Posted by Rod Ramsey Summer of '76, I'll be a High School Freshman in the fall. My family is picnicing with some others from church out at Woodward Resevior. My brother and some others have brought small sailboats (no motors allowed). Julie (I think that was her name), the cousin of one of our members accompanies her family to the lake. She is being teased by a bunch of boys and girls for not taking off her rather heavy looking t-shirt. All the other girls are wearing as skimpy a bikini as they can get away with. Being the nice guy that I am, I ask her if she wants to go for a sail on my brother's boat and get away from the rest of the kids. She agrees and we head out. I've done this trick before. About half way across the lake, laughing and having fun I stand up, grip the mast and tilt the boat. Julie is laughing as it gets closer and closer to capsizing. Water is splashing up on the deck when a wind gust hits us out of no where sending us into the water and the boat over. Does anyone know what the term 'turned turtle' means? Yep. The boat is all the way over and Julie and I are treading water in the middle of the lake. Fortunately she is still laughing, so I know she's not mad. We get the boat upright after a bit and climb back on board. I knew the possibility to capsize the little 16 footer was possible, I didn't realize that she wasn't wearing anything under the t-shirt. It's at that point that I realize why Julie hasn't taken off the t-shirt all day. The shirt clings to her body, now transparent, showing that she is not wearing a bikini top under the shirt. I turn away quickly, trying not to stare at her nicely shaped and now exposed tits. She finally realizes what happened with a "Oh my God! You asshole! You knew this was going to happen." "Honest. I thought you were wearing a bikini top under there," I replied. Embarrassed, I hand her one of the life jackets from the boat. Remember this is the '70's, clunky orange vests, not the sleek PFD's available now. As I head back in I cannot help but visualize what she looked like, a nice set of apple sized tits showing through her shirt. When we get back her mom talked to my mom and I found myself grounded for the rest of the weekend. Including just sitting at the picnic table unable to leave except to go to the bathroom for the rest of the day. I never saw Julie again, her family never came to another picnic that we attended. My brother still has that sailboat, but for the life of me cannot remember the last time he took it out. Rod ***** Posted by Frank Downey OK, here's one that happened at work--though it didn't happen to me, I was the witness. I'm in work. I'm in the back room, working on overstock. My friend Erin comes back there. She was on break, and, up until recently, we were allowed to smoke out by the back door in the back room. So, Erin came back there to have a cig. Erin's 16, a nice kid. She's cute, and rather curvy, especially in the ass. So, she comes out there, we're chatting, and she heads to the smoking corner. She takes a stool that we keep around there with her, and goes to sit on it. From the other end of the back room, I *heard* it. Rrrrrrrrrrip! "Oh SHIT!" she says. She stands up, facing me, and looks behind her. "Oh, shit, I ripped my pants *right* down the middle, and my whole *ass* is hanging out!" Of course, I'm a brat, and Erin knows it. "That could be cool," I said. "The male customers will love it. Are your panties cute?" I figured she'd throw something at me at that, but she just blushed and admitted, "Uh, well, I'm wearing a thong." I couldn't help it. I cracked up. "So you're telling me your practically *bare* ass is hanging out the rip in your pants?" "Uh, yeah." "Shit, Erin, we could charge money for a look at *that*! Sales will skyrocket." That's when she *did* throw something at me [G]. Anyhow, she asked me to go get her sweatshirt that she had out by the lockers, and she tied it around her waist with it hanging down covering her ass. And she called her Dad and he brought her another pair of pants. So all's well that ends well. But, of course, I still tease her about it. "Hey, Erin, nice ass!" [G] --Frank ***** Posted By Aguia Branca Probably one of the most embarrassing things to happen to me when I was younger... I was 16 ('88), and my girlfriend had finally agreed to make love with me. She told me she wanted to "do it" after school. Needless to say I was a bit preoccupied all day long with thoughts of finally having sex with her. We walked to my house after school, because my parents wouldn't be home until 6. Up in the bedroom, I remember I put in an 8 track of STYX in the stereo to listen to (what did I know about music back then?). We probably spent the better part of an hour getting her relaxed enough - it was her first time, and she was VERY uptight. We finally started, and I had just gotten fully into her when suddenly she screamed and literally threw me off of her and ran out of my bedroom and locked herself into the bathroom. I looked up from the floor (where I landed) and there stands my Dad in the doorway to my room. HE had a shit eating grin on his face, I was mortified. He had gotten off early that day, and was home when we got there - car in the garage instead of in the driveway, and had been in the basement doing something when we came in. I had not closed my bedroom door, and he was simply headed for his bedroom when he saw us. Needless to say, once Sharon got her clothes and left - she wouldn't speak to me. She broke up with me the next day. AB |
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