Oh, I could come up with more, many more. But when I think of humiliating moments from my past, three specific stories always jump to the front of the line, and cause me to grimace like Gilbert Gottfried. Today I’ll give you a quick rundown of them, and let you guys take it from there.
The one bathroom vacation home
I’ve told this story before, but it’s been a while. Back during the late ’80s I was dating a woman who invited me to accompany her and her parents to an island off the coast of Charleston, SC. A friend of the family lived there, and they were going to visit her for three or four days.
This was still fairly early in our relationship, so it was a risky proposition. Too much Jeff is not always a good thing. But I accepted, and it was incredibly beautiful. People actually live like this? Normal non-celebrities? I had no idea.
A couple of problems, though… The house had snow white carpeting throughout. Why?? Who would choose blindingly white carpet? I just knew I’d spill something, or track in railroad grease or something. So, that put me on edge from the beginning.
Also, I only saw one bathroom, and it was behind a hollow-core door directly off the kitchen. And the kitchen is where everybody hung out, drank wine, and talked. Whenever a person went in there, you could hear them peeing, as if the toilet was mic’d up and attached to an amplifier.
There was no way in this life or the next that I’d EVER be able to crap there. I mean, seriously. It would be like taking a dump on stage at the Hollywood Bowl. What would I do?? Maybe set an alarm, and shit at 3 am? It was something I seriously considered, but I was sharing a room with my newish girlfriend. I’d have to explain my neurosis to her, and didn’t know how she’d react.
So, I decided to just ride it out. I thought I could make it for a few days. Ha!
Around Day Two I felt like the Michelin Man. I was bloated and miserable. Everybody kept handing me coffee and beer, but I could barely eat or drink… because it only made matters worse. I was in a state of full intestinal distress.
On that night or the next my girlfriend suggested we go for a drive. And we ended up parking in a really pretty spot, overlooking the ocean. Before long we were making out, and one thing was leading to another. And at some point I moved in a certain way, and my ass went-off like a foghorn.
I mean it was LOUD. And sustained. It sounded like a cruise ship was pulling into the harbor. I might be exaggerating it in my mind, but I seem to remember a thousand birds leaving the nearby trees at once.
Oh my god! We were having a romantic moment, and I’d let-loose the fart of the century. It was one of the worst moments of my life.
But, thankfully, she thought it was hilarious. She couldn’t stop laughing, and it wasn’t mean-spirited, either. As it turned out, she and I had very similar senses of humor, and she viewed the whole episode as comedy gold.
Whew! After the laughter subsided, and we’d aired out the car, I told her the whole story. She started laughing again, and shaking her head in amazement. Then she told me about a second bathroom, in the garage. I had no idea.
And when we returned to the house, I made a beeline for that thing, and nearly filled the bowl. When I emerged, ten minutes later, this song was playing inside my head.
So, it had been mortifying, for sure. Be she’d made it a lot easier on me. AND I somehow made it through the whole visit without ruining that crazy carpet. It’s a wonder I didn’t explode all over it, in a spectacular supernova of poop.
A classroom surprise
When I was in 10th or 11th grade I went to school one day, feeling totally fine. I’d walked there with my friends, and we’d joked around, as normal.
However, by the end of first period I wasn’t feeling too hot. It was nothing serious, nothing I couldn’t manage. But I was definitely a little off. My stomach was gurgling, and I was getting sweaty for no apparent reason.
I made my way to the next class, and took a seat. And I didn’t feel horrible, but something was askew. I kept wiping sweat off my forehead, and the queasiness was still there.
I’d better get out of here, I thought. I raised my hand, to ask to be excused, and the moment I began to talk… I vomited. All over the place, with every eye upon me. It was as if I’d yelled “Hey everybody, watch this!” and puked.
The geyser came out of nowhere. There was no real build-up, it all happened super-fast. And good god… in front of all those kids. It was horrific.
Needless to say, there was a lot of shouting and people running for cover. Chris Griffith did a full Starsky & Hutch shoulder-roll to get away from me. And I had to take the walk of shame out of there, with vomit on my shirt. The memory of it nearly causes me physical pain.
The errant text message
A couple of years ago I was talking with my dad on the phone, and he was being uncharacteristically combative. I can’t remember the reason, but he was unhappy with me, and letting me have it.
I endured it, defended myself the best I could, and finally escaped the call.
Shaken, I sent a text message to Toney, who was at the grocery store. It was something along the lines of “Wow! Just got off the phone with my dad, and he was being a gigantic asshole.”
Only I didn’t send it to Toney… I sent it to my dad! I realized it the moment my thumb hit the SEND button, and the floor of my ass nearly fell out.
Yeah, he didn’t care for it. I tried to laugh it off, and pretend it was no big deal… but it didn’t work. He was offended, and so was my mom. So, there you go. Jeff strikes again.
It makes me to cringe, and I try to never think about it. ‘Cause my parents are great. I couldn’t hope for a better mom and dad. And I called my dad — who is the nicest guy in the world — a gigantic asshole, or something similar. Shit! I wish I could have that memory surgically removed from my brain.
Now it’s your turn. Do you have any tales of personal humiliation you’d like to share? Please do so, in the comments section.
And I’ll see you guys again next time.
Have a great day!
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Thanks for those!
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I’ve stepped on my dick so many times there’s a Nike symbol permanently embeded in it.
In the last month I’ve pissed off the president of the hospital where I work and caused a regional director from my company (who thankfully is not my regional director) to resign from his position from the board of an agency that does our certification/accreditation.
You think I’m a jerk on line? Wait til you meet me in person.
Good God – too many to mention but the top 2 have to be 1) when I shat myself in gym class. (Ex Lax, 100 yard dash and a belly full of cafeteria pizza).
2) when I thought I was shot on the streets of Manhattan. (empty stomach and a margarita served in a fish bowl and a brawl with a ketchup bottle).
We use Instant Messenger in my office. The crotchety mean old lady that sat next to me farted once. I went to IM this – “I think Sandie let one go” to my buddy a couple seats to the right of me, hit send and waited for the *ding* at his desk but instead heard it right next to me on the left. I’d sent it to Sandie on accident! Instant panic set in. She wasn’t at her desk at that exact second and thoughts of jumping on her computer and deleting the thing ran through my head. But she came back quickly, read it and in her gruff, “I’ve been drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes since before you were born” voice. “BEN! WHAT IN THE HELL IS THIS?” I about shat myself. All I could think to say was… “Sandie… did you toot?” Right then the local tooter of the office walked by. I quickly said, “Oh it must have been Bob. Yup, it was Bob.” I then stared straight ahead for the next 5 hours of work.
I peed in church. I was like 2 years old and don’t remember it, but my dad was absolutely mortified and never missed a chance to relive the horror. Makes me smile to this day!
Good for you, Brenda! LOL
I was a freshman in ’98, and wearing this skirt that hit a little above my knees; it was silver and sort of thick pleather-ish (not my greatest fashion statement). I was walking to English class through a known senior hall, and people were looking at me and laughing. I didn’t realize what was going on until a nice pair of girls came up to me to explain my skirt in the back was bent under, and I was walking down the hall with my underwear (an ugly pair, too – oh God) hanging out. I had to side-step against the wall to the nearest bathroom, I was late for class and thus had to explain to my teacher after class what happened (and she was not pleased). I wanted to die.
When I was a freshman in college, I wore a a cute little silk skort to school one day ( what can I say, it was the 90s). Add a silk skort to a backpack slung over one shoulder, and throw in a small window of time to get from point A to point B, and what you end up with is one underwear-clad ass cheek exposed to half the student body. That backpack betrayed me and literally ate one side of the skort. At least I had on cute panties. and thankfully I wasn’t in a thong. I cringe mostly because I thought I was getting so many second glances because I was looking hot. Nope, just looking stupid.
Holy cripes….where do I begin?
Welp, there was the time back in the 80’s when I was teaching a huge aerobics class, I was decked out in a bright shiney red unitard. Yes. A one piece tank top unitard. I was jumping around like Daffy Duck not realizing my bra strap broke. And not only did it break, it had managed to slip down my back. So….there I was doing high impact 1980’s-type aerobics with my bitchin uni and leg warmers, with one boob out of it’s holster…..flopping around like a fish out of water. Since I was oblivious to it all, one of the other instructors at the club was in my class and ran up to me when the class was facing the opposite direction and told me. She took over for a few minutes while I hopped out of the room and tied my bra together.
Wet my shorts at girl scout camp, tried to pass it off (I almost made it to the toilet) that I splashed water on myself washing up. Like, a GALLON of water, that smelled like pee, all afternoon.
Passed out hammered on a college band trip. People took pictures.
Then there was that time at the yearly gyno visit when…well…it IS possible to lose certain items ‘up there.’ Good Lord.
Oh come on, you can’t leave us hanging with a story like that,and not share the details that’s just rude.
@Tiff…Like, what are we talking about here? Did they find Jimmy Hoffa?
I thought he was a bridge abutment these days.
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Kids, you don’t want to know. No thrilling sexy things, no dead mobsters, no gerbils, even. Just a prosaic absorbent object best left for a girl to handle herself,and NOBODY ELSE.
Again, Good Lord.
I always worried that would happen to me, but it never did, thank God.
I was in a restaurant with the woman who is now my wife. Needed to squeak out a sneaky fart, so I did, but sadly it was a fart with a bonus, a shart if you prefer. It wasn’t full shit your pants time, but I was wearing light khakis and it was more than enough.
We drive past that restaurant a couple of times a year and she bursts out laughing every time.
I misread the Bird meter at the radio station, setting the FM transmitter to 10 watts output instead of the 1000 it was supposed to be. I only realized it a couple of days later, when the GM complained that reception was bad in his car.
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“… a full Starsky & Hutch shoulder-roll… ” perfect!
The time I was discussing Lisa’s incredible sluttiness (previously mentioned on the Lisa name game) with friends and my phone had purse dialed her. Then there was the time I had a cyst removed from my tailbone area. It was a day surgery so when I woke up I was sent to the supply room off of recovery to dress and go home. My whole midsection numb and still slightly groggy, I bent over to pull my pants up and heard a noise behind me. I turned to see a giant explosion of shit everywhere including in the open doors of a supply closet of clean towels. Not pertinent to the topic but important to say, if you ever get a cyst anywhere in your ass crack just draw a happy face on it and call it your friend. Do not let anyone cut the crack. It is your body’s natural fault line and it is just looking for an opportunity to split open and stay that way. Once it does, like 2-3 days later when you politely sit down on the toilet, they cannot sew it back and you will have to have dressings changed daily for months while closes itself which it really doesn’t want to.
You win.
Hilarious!!!!
I had one of those projectile eruptions one time, in the 7th grade. About half an hour after lunch it hit me from out of nowhere, like a brick upside the head, that I was going to puke, and soon. So I got up and wobbled toward the front of the room. The teacher asked if I was feeling alright, and I muttered something about going to the restroom. I didn’t quite make it to the door. There was a wastebasket in the corner right next to the door, and I managed to heave a fair amount of my lunch into that from a few feet away, but there was spaghetti with red sauce all over that corner of the room. As I recall, it looked like at least five gallons of spaghetti had been shot out of a cannon. I didn’t get to see the poor old janitor clean it up because for some reason I ended up in the principal’s office while I waited for my mom to come get me. The principal was awkwardly trying to console me, but he was clearly out of his element. I just wished he’d leave me alone.
I didn’t get near the teasing I expected. One of the cool kids ribbed me about it a bit, but not in a mean way. It was more like he was impressed by the spectacle. It didn’t bother me much, but I did feel bad about making such a mess. Guess I was used to embarrassing myself, and that episode was something I had no control over.
I feel like I have far too many. Here’s a couple.
My first day of work at a mom & pop pool supply store, I was 16 (I think), and a tad nervous. I’ve always tended to get minorly-black-outish from low blood sugar…and naturally, I made for a perfect storm by being nervous and not eating that morning. I remember feeling intensely hot and then the cold sweat hit. I blacked out for just a moment, catching myself on the counter behind me…but that was all it took. I immediately felt it. I’d shat myself. It was very minor, but because I was a teenaged girl, I was wearing a thong beneath my tight(er) khakis. That thing did nothing to hold in the evidence.
Quick thinking led me to the lie that I stuck with – I’d suddenly gotten my period…and needed new clothing. I was beyond mortified, but knew that my lie was embarrassing enough that nobody would question it. Great first impression.
My poor, poor midwife. I farted directly in her face. As she was stitching me up after my first kid was born. I was mortified. Absolutely mortified. I loved and respected this woman and I’d just unleashed a fury in her face as she’s trying to make sense of the war zone that was my lady parts, post-birth. To be fair, my coccyx was broken…so I was at a loss when any form of matter was near it’s exit, but that doesn’t make it any easier in the moment.
Ow, ow, ow! 15 years as an L&D nurse, and I only saw–and heard–that once. It was an awful noise. And I am referring to the broken tailbone. Laboring women fart and poop all the time, so don’t be too embarrassed. I seriously doubt you were the first or last to do that to her.
Yeah, it was obvious what it was the moment it happened, but it was the last thing on my mind…until I had to get up afterward. Ouch. I was sitting on a hemorrhoid pillow for 2 months. I learned my lesson not to push my next baby out while lying down, no mater how tired I was 😉 Thankfully, having babies at home makes that much easier.
My roommate’s dog went into my room, unearthed my vibrator, and brought it out to the living room where my roommate and her boyfriend were. The only blessing was that I wasn’t home to witness it. Oh God.
Was talking to a friend about him getting married to the most vicious, C U Next Tuesday on the planet. We were out in the back 40 of his land drinking beers and having fun. She called his cell to ask when he was coming home, blah, blah, “Ok love you too honey” and he hung up. But he didn’t by mistake and neither did she!!! I then continued on my rant about how awful a person she was and how she was evil to the core. She heard it all. Needless to say, I didn’t get an invite to the wedding. And she forbid him from ever hanging out with me again. They were divorced in 3 years. Fuck ’em both
this brings to mind the time i bought a padded bra that closed in the front. when i went to church that sunday, for some reason i decided to out holy my cousin fritzie, who walked up to communion holding his hands together in a prayerful manner and his eyes raised to heaven. however, as i squeezed my elbows against my sides, the hook on the bra came loose. all of a sudden i had four boobs. the priest didn’t even notice, but the altar boys enjoyed it a little too much. the walk of shame back to my pew was excruciating. .
stole twix bars from big lots as a teen and they all fell out as i was walking towards the door, manager saw me. i was hot with shame. the same feeling you get when passing a cop while speeding.
The song that SHOULD have been playing in your head after you got to go to the bathroom was “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue”.
An internet friend and I were complaining about the owner of a 10,000+ person online group. Only, I sent the hateful message to the whole group. Yep, I was banned forever. It was so humiliating, but five years later, I realize I should have left on my on sooner.
A neighbor came over once – I didn’t really know him – and he asked me if I had a black dog. Well I did but I wasn’t sure why he was asking so I sort of half nodded and said uuuuuh yeah. He sez “well he broke into my house”. Whuuut?? He broke into my house. Tore out the screen window on the porch. His wife had come home and here’s this black dog sleeping on the living room floor. She yells at her son for bringing home a stray and he sez “What Stray” at which point the dog jumps up, jumps out the window and runs straight home. All the while he’s telling me this, I’m standing there with my jaw sitting on the tops of my reboks. He continues on. Apparently my dog smelled his female dog whose pump was primed so he broke thru the screen banged the she dog like a storm door in a hurricane, ate all of her food and then took a leisurly nap. He’s telling me this with a really serious look on his face and finished the story with “and my wife is really pissed!” I thought he was really mad. But instead, at that point, we both just busted out laughing – Sex, a big meal and then a nap. Sounds natural to me. What a hoot. I offered to fix the screen. Too late to fix the dogs.