Humiliating Myself: My Top 3 Embarrassing Moments

We've all done something to embarrass ourselves. You turn a little red, feel your face heat up... but, what about those embarrassing moments that are so bad you want the ground beneath you to open up and swallow you whole? Here, in no particular order, are my top 3. I'm still trying to get over them.

1. The Rooster.

My mom, brother, his friend and I took a trip to Myrtle Beach. My brother and his friend were about fifteen at the time and I was twenty. We got to the hotel, unloaded the car and after the eight hour trip, my mom was tired and wanted to rest. To give her some peace, I took the boys to the grocery store to get food to stock the small kitchen in our hotel room. We drove to Kroger's on Kings Highway.

I should have known that something would happen because as soon as I parked, I looked up to see a live rooster walking around in front of my car. "That's odd," I said to the boys but, instead of taking it as an omen, I got out of the car and into the store we strolled.

The first thing I noticed was that there were no shopping carts inside the store. A quick glance told us they were all outside. My brother's friend, being the nice kid he was, offered to go get me one. A minute later he came through the automatic doors with one, a loud one. He turned his hat around, I thought. They boys always wore their ball caps backwards, but now his was straight. I threw my purse into the child seat and proceeded to take the shopping cart from him.

Problem was, he wasn't giving me the cart. "I'll push it," I said, a little irritated. As I was nudging him with my hip, I noticed my bother repeating my name over and over under his breath. Still holding onto the cart, I turned to him. "What'?" I said. He nodded toward the automatic door. I followed his eyes and their he was... My brother's friend. Pushing a cart, his hat on backwards, through the door.

At that moment, I thought I was going to pee my pants. I looked up at the poor young man whose shopping cart I was viciously trying to steal. He looked confused, yet determined at the same time. Determined, I guess, to keep the psycho lady from taking his shopping cart. I sometimes wonder why he didn't just give it to me. I muttered an apology and grabbed my purse from the child seat. Within minutes, my brother was telling the story to his friend who had missed it all and they laughed at me all the way through the store. I just wanted to die.

I should've listened to the rooster.

2. The Mix-up

For this story, you need to know that I owned a black Toyota Corolla. It was a newer model at the time, but was covered in hundreds of tiny, round dents after being in a severe hail storm. And, the story goes like this...

When I first starting out in life, my father showed me how to change my own oil in my car to save money. Although it wasn't a lot, he said it was a good thing for me to learn. So, I did and I changed my own oil. One day, I was at my mother's changing it, (my apartment building didn't have a place to do it) and I couldn't get the bolt off the oil pan. I grunted, cursed, nothing worked. I had my brother give it a whirl. He couldn't get it off either. Seemed the bolt was stripped.

I gave up. I went in the house and cleaned myself up. My sister was home so I asked her if she wanted to go with me to the Toyota Dealership. Why? She and my mother wanted to know. I told them I was going to buy a new car. My mother protested. Mine was only a few years old and nearly paid for. I didn't care. I was sick of the dents anyway. (I'd chosen not to get them fixed with the insurance money, I know, shame, shame.)

Anyway, my sister and I were off. The car in question was my third car and I prided myself on my ability to wheel and deal with car salesmen after having done it twice. And, that's what I did.

For half an hour, my poor sister listened as I argued retail to retail price and wholesale to wholesale price. I wanted retail for my car and to pay wholesale for theirs. They'd go broke, they told me. I stuck to my guns. I gave my final offer and the red-faced salesman told me he'd run the numbers by the finance manager. I told him to take his time, that I was going to step outside to have a cigarette.

My sister walked out front while I headed out to the back where my car was parked to get a cigarette. Then, I was to meet her out front. That, wasn't to happen.

When I got to my car, I climbed into the driver's seat and flipped open the glove compartment. It was empty. Where the heck were my cigarettes? I started to look around. The car was mpty. How dare they, I thought, getting madder and madder. I jumped out and slammed the door after hitting the lever for the trunk. I lifted the trunk to find it empty. Gone was my oil changing tools, my air compressor, and my emergency kit. I slammed the trunk shut.

I headed back into the dealership, running into my sister. "What's the deal?" she asked, referring to the fact that I never showed up out front of the building. As she's asking, my red-faced salesman shows up smiling. Seeing my expression, his smile faded. "What's wrong?" he asked.

I let him have it. "How dare they empty my car," I raged. "I haven't even bought a car yet." "You should let people get their own personal belongings!" On and on I went. He apologized and offered to walk out with me to check out the situation. As we're walking, he tells me the manager accepted my offer. "I'm not worried about that right now," I tell him.

Outside, I took the lead as the salesman and my sister followed me to my car. I jerked the door open and flipped the lever on the trunk and then opened it. With the door and the trunk open, I turned to them. "See?" I said to the salesman, noticing my sister. She was smiling and shaking her head. The salesman looked a bit amused too. I was irritated.

"That's not your car," the salesman finally said in a gentle voice. I turned and looked. He was right. It wasn't even the same color. My car was black. This car was green. My car was covered in dents. This car was not. My interior was gray. This one was black. "There's your car," he says, pointing about five cars down.

I felt like an idiot. My sister was struggling to hold it together and the salesman was too. All I could think was that I had to get out of there fast. I apologized to the salesman and before he could repeat the story in front of me, I was pulling my sister to the car, telling him I'd have to think about it. I knew the manager and a few salesmen were going to ask him what had happened, after having heard the fit I threw in the dealership and no way did I want to have to explain that. I drove off with my face on fire and my sister telling me what a loser I was.

I've never returned to that dealership.

3. Speed Bump

I'd just got my driver's license. My mother occasionally let me drive the car to school under the condition that I drop my sister off at the junior high where she went to school. I wasn't supposed to, but she and I stopped and picked up my best friend and with the radio blaring, we all rode to school together.

One morning, my best-friend and I were chatting and I guess I wasn't paying attention. I was young and dumb. We were stopped outside the junior high and my sister was getting her stuff together as she climbed out of the back seat. I thought she was out, so I shouted a 'bye' at her and let off the gas.

That's when I heard the scream. I hit the brake in time to turn my head and see my sister laying on the sidewalk, one leg still in the car. It took her a second to get it together. (Note, this girl is bigger than me.) "Are you okay?" I asked her. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" she screamed at me, hurling herself through the backseat, trying to get at me in the front. "PUNCH IT!" my friend yells, suggesting I take off and leave the poor sister I just ran over. I didn't know what to do. "I'm telling mom," my sister said, pulling on the back of my seat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I kept telling her. "Don't tell mom. We'll have to ride the bus everyday," I pleaded.

She finally calmed down. By this time, we'd attracted a small crowd, some of which attended the high school with my best-friend and I. (They were waiting for a bus to take them there.) Realizing this, all three of us settled down, and after telling me under her breath, "this ain't over," my sister headed up the sidewalk towards her school. As I started to pull off, I heard someone yell at her from one of the open windows of the school, "hey speed bump!" I knew I was in for it.

All day, people made fun of me for running over my sister. You can imagine, right? When I picked her up that day, she told me everyone kept calling her speed bump. The name stuck. Years later, they were still calling her speed bump. We laughed about on the way home from school that day. She didn't tell on me. We remained buddies.

We told mom about it seven years later. She thought it was funny.

That was my top three in no particular order. I'm not sure which one I think is the worst. If anyone has done anything more embarrassing, I'd love to hear about it. Leave a comment. Thanks for reading!