This is the worst thing (socially) to happen to me. Ever. Yet, I just love telling the story- call me a glutton for jest.
It was Valentine’s Day, 2001. I was 16 and a senior in high school (yes, you read that right) and my friend-since-before-birth and I decided to go to the high school dance. It was a cruel twist of fate that we arrived overly dressed and, thus, had to go home to change into something a little more… dance-y.
Let me add a little detail here, I was new to the school. Although I’d grown up in the valley, I knew no one because I’d attended private Christian school my whole life.
Amy and I entered the front doors of the school, all hot and 16-like. I thought I looked pretty good in my tightly fitted red cords and black halter-top and I acted like I thought it too. What I didn’t think of was the good ol’ phrase, “Pride comes before a fall.” I remember there were about, ohhh 100 or so people there.
A few of our friends met us there, among whom was a guy named Mac (who later became a professional dancer). About half way into the dance, Mac and I joined up and began showing off our dance moves. You named it, we tried it. Including The Candlestick. Anyone seen Swing Kids? You know that whole string of tricks where the guy picks up the girl, throws her to one hip, then the next, then she does this reverse piggy-back thing and finally slides threw his legs and come up on the other side with a really cool twist? Yeah, we did that. It was a ton of fun and (for having no dancing experience before then) we pulled it off pretty well.
Fate decided to have some fun. A dance circle formed. Mac urged me into the middle to do our thang. It began rather well. Looking back on it, I know I should have tucked body parts in just a little more than I did. But, you know, Hind’s Sight is 20/20.
So we’re dancing; I jump up, swing to one side. The other. The reverse piggy back thing and back to slide down to the ground.
I heard everyone gasp before I heard the back of my head smack against the concrete cafeteria floor. Honestly, I didn’t feel it.
That’s not the worst part.
The worst part is that when I was sliding back down to the ground (before/as I hit my head) Mac’s thumbs had become tucked underneath my top. Yup, you guessed it. He pulled my top up and (almost) over my head as I went down.
I don’t remember much after that. But, that’s not the worst part.
About a week later, I was hanging out with a ton of my new school friends when this random guy walked over to me. He said, “Do I know you?” I replied that he did not, because I was new.
With his finger on his chin he thought, “No, I do know you. You’re the girl who was dropped on her head at the Valentine’s Dance!”
End of story.
-Sazaran
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The Bathroom Hallelujah Party!
So there I was…my third trip to the bathroom since 8am. At work.
Im normally an observant (shoe peeker) person, but when you’re in a rush, you just gotta get there you know? So there I was...
Ok, back the truck up. Before y’all get any ideas…I was both deprived, protected, and there was not a chance in the world, no possibility what-so-ever that I was. But after having two WHILE being protected (and not deprived), it’s just natural to have a little party, once a month, every time…even when there is no chance. You know, almost a “thank you God for letting me be deprived” dance.
So anyway. There I was. And for whatever reason, probably the high amount of caffeine that morning, I got a bit over excited, and actually said “Hallelujah”. Fairly loudly. In a small, echo-y bathroom. Immediately following, was a joining in celebration by laughter and the flushing of the toilet next door. I quickly pulled up my feet, and hid in the stall until the bathroom was vacant and whoever said female was, was far enough down the hall for me to leave unidentified. Unless she noticed my shoes. You shoe peekers. I know who you are.
Bah! I hate being she-male.
-Nomz
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Pssst. I have to share my dad's most embarassing moment, because it is one of the funniest ones I have ever heard!
On the night of his very first date, he pulled up to his girl friend's house in his fancy sports car- flaunting his new tires.
He rang the door bell and was greated by her parents. Like a good little boy, he waited in the living room, making small chat with Ma and Pop. This is the layout of the house, picture it in your mind: living room has big beautiul bay window and faces the flight of stairs that leads to the girl's bedroom.
So, the moment arrives and comes down Miss Pretty in a long, strapless gown (must have been prom or something). As she glides down the stairs, she accidentally steps on her gown and it exposes her jewels.
To divert the attention from his sweety-pie, my dad ever so cooly turns toward the bay window and says, "Look!"- referring to the new tires on his oh-so-cool car. Too bad he didn't look, himself, before he spoke. Instead, he and the girls parents all turned to see two dogs humping outside of the window.
Since we were so humble-like and shared our horrific life's tales, please, do the same! :)
Monday, February 23, 2009
Embarassing moments! They make us who we are :)
Posted by Daily Offensive (baha!) at 2/23/2009
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2 comments:
embarrassing story: years ago I was living in a house with 3 other guys. it was an older house, needed lots of work. We also had a pretty complicated network setup (stuff out in the garage and in the house), so I was occasionally in the attic doing work (running wires, fixing wires that had been chewed on by squirrels, etc.
one afternoon I was in the attic above my roommate's bedroom when he came up with his girlfriend... and they proceeded to have sex. Loud sex. Right below me.
What is with the monkey's lately? And my bad grammar?? Eeek.
Hope everyone enjoys this as much as we did. :D
~Nomz
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