Every time someone asks me about my most embarrassing moment, I have to ponder it quite a bit. . . It’s not that I haven’t had blush-enducing events in my life – it’s that I’ve had so many and have decided that being mortified by them doesn’t make them any less embarrassing. I also believe that the amount of witnesses to said event also determines the level of embarrassment.
A good example of not enough witnesses was when I was on a date in Rexburg Idaho in the winter. That’s not the embarrassing part. My date was a pretty cool guy, complete with a Jeep. At the end of the date he came to my side of the jeep, opened my door, and reached for my hand. Luckily I took it because as soon as my foot hit the ice covered ground, it slid. Both feet shot between his and we were stuck, holding hands as he straddled my body, and attempted to keep me from hitting the ground. I was suspended in his grasp but during my fall, my dress rode up my body and became more of a cummerbund around my waist instead of the gown it was.
We laughed about it, but I wasn’t necessarily embarrassed. Everyone falls prey to the Rexburg ice sheet.
Another example was when I was walking with a group of friends from a college event. Strangely, I was dressed up again. We were the first group in long line of students leaving the building and as we walked, I felt the elastic in my slip’s waistband pop. I said nothing.
I remained silent as we continued walking and I could feel the slip slowly work its way down my waist. . . Soon we started to hear laughing from behind. I knew my slip was sticking far below the bottom of my skirt but I remained engrossed in our conversation, trying to walk a little straddled so I could keep it up. But to no avail. There was no way I could keep it up when it slid completely over the butt and hit the knees. The slip fell to the ground and I just stepped out of it as we kept walking. Laughter erupted from the dozens of students behind us but my friends remained oblivious to the situation.
I can’t say that was embarrassing because my friends never knew what happened (Ok NOW they do). And the people behind us had no idea who I was. . . And as far as I know, the slip is still on the sidewalk.
I guess I’m more embarrassed by things that you can’t laugh off, like rude behavior or meanness.
Huh. This reminds me. . . I need a new slip.
A good example of not enough witnesses was when I was on a date in Rexburg Idaho in the winter. That’s not the embarrassing part. My date was a pretty cool guy, complete with a Jeep. At the end of the date he came to my side of the jeep, opened my door, and reached for my hand. Luckily I took it because as soon as my foot hit the ice covered ground, it slid. Both feet shot between his and we were stuck, holding hands as he straddled my body, and attempted to keep me from hitting the ground. I was suspended in his grasp but during my fall, my dress rode up my body and became more of a cummerbund around my waist instead of the gown it was.
We laughed about it, but I wasn’t necessarily embarrassed. Everyone falls prey to the Rexburg ice sheet.
Another example was when I was walking with a group of friends from a college event. Strangely, I was dressed up again. We were the first group in long line of students leaving the building and as we walked, I felt the elastic in my slip’s waistband pop. I said nothing.
I remained silent as we continued walking and I could feel the slip slowly work its way down my waist. . . Soon we started to hear laughing from behind. I knew my slip was sticking far below the bottom of my skirt but I remained engrossed in our conversation, trying to walk a little straddled so I could keep it up. But to no avail. There was no way I could keep it up when it slid completely over the butt and hit the knees. The slip fell to the ground and I just stepped out of it as we kept walking. Laughter erupted from the dozens of students behind us but my friends remained oblivious to the situation.
I can’t say that was embarrassing because my friends never knew what happened (Ok NOW they do). And the people behind us had no idea who I was. . . And as far as I know, the slip is still on the sidewalk.
I guess I’m more embarrassed by things that you can’t laugh off, like rude behavior or meanness.
Huh. This reminds me. . . I need a new slip.
1 comment:
Yeah so...most of my embarassing moments happen in front of huge crowds and they seem to become something to talk about at parties...Sheesh!
BTW...when was this date in Rexburg...if it was while I was living there...
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