Embarrassing Moments That Make You Cringe

I’m laughing like a hyena, as I recall embarrassing moments in my life. I’ve prayed for the earth to swallow me or for someone up there to hurl a lightning bolt at me, but neither happened!

My first embarrassing moment was when I was about 11 or 12 years old. I was performing a dance routine on stage with my sister when I noticed my parents and cousins in the front row whispering into each other’s ears the entire time. My mother rushes over to me after the performance saying, “You forgot to wear your leggings underneath the transparent, georgette pants.” At that tender age, the only way I could deal with my embarrassment was to cry uncontrollably.

I seem to have the knack of making a fool of myself. It’s something I’m naturally good at; you don’t have to trick me!

I’m at a club to meet my classmates for a reunion lunch and I waltz into a room that’s exploding with voices and laughter. I step in and there’s pin-drop silence. It’s that awkward moment when I realize I’ve gate-crashed a party. I dash out of the door and sprint to the “BAR,” which is at the far end. I open the door and I see my classmates huddled in the corner. I should have known better. I’m going to have to spend some time behind ‘Bars” to make some more bad decisions.

I was at the supermarket check-out counter one time, and the long winding queue behind me was all grunting and sighing. The machine declined all of my cards and I can feel my cheeks flushing, turning red, and almost charring before the manager shows up. “That can’t be,” I exclaim. The Manager inspects the swiping machine and says, “I’m sorry Madam, the machine is faulty.” When I hear the chugging and tearing of the receipt, I let out an enormous sigh of relief. I could have drowned in my sweat.

I walk out, the guard hands me my car keys, and I walk towards a car that looks similar to mine. I press the unlock button on the key and insert the key into the door; nothing happens! Then, suddenly, the car lets out an ear-splitting screech. Agh!  I had no idea it could be so dramatic and overly sensitive. “Madam, this is not your car,” the guard screams into my ears even louder. I was probably in need of a jump-start. I should be more car-eful!

When it comes to greeting long-lost friends, I’m a little more restrained now. Earlier, I would sprint at breakneck speed, my arms stretched out like wind fangs, and I would Slam, causing us to Stumble, Tumble, and Thud. Since then, it’s been impossible to convince them that “I never let go of friends when they’re down and out and I’ll be there to support them no matter what.”

I enjoy a friendly hug, but not when I’m being squeezed, lifted into the air, spun around, bones cracking, and leaving me breathless. They don’t get it, do they? Seriously!

While kissing on the cheek is a common greeting, a few of my friends have a custom of kissing three times on alternate cheeks. Why don’t they just kiss both cheeks and let go like everyone else? My life is already spinning like a whirlpool in the ocean, and having them cup my face and turn it three times from side-to-side takes a toll on me, especially with my vertigo. I freak out, but they’re my friends, and we are together because we suffer from almost similar disorders.

I have no idea how I get myself into these crazy situations. I’ve tried to gain perspective and evaluate them, but in vain.

I recall being given a spare key to a friend’s house to pick up something. I turn the key in the door lock, completely unaware that I’ve jumped out on the wrong floor. I struggle, and just as I’m about to give up, the door creaks open, and I see an elderly gentleman pretty shaken-up. Consider what would happen if he passed out, had a heart attack, called 911, or raised an alarm. That was an extremely frightening experience!

Admiring myself in reflective windows on cars is a big “No-No.” One time, I was fixing my hair in front of a car with these windows and it was the most terrifying experience. The window rolled-down, arms came out, and a man yelled, “Boo!” Since then, it’s always been a fleeting glance.

Another time, I walked into a glass door at a shopping mall. The security guard rushes over to see if I’m okay. “Yes, thank you, and please congratulate the housekeeping staff on a job well done,” I say. I return home with a bump on my brow, which worsens when I’m asked how I got it.

The push and pull-on doors are tricky to handle. The door says push, and I’m pulling with all my might. On the other side, people are pointing to a sign that says “push”, and others gesticulating with sign language. I’m glad I didn’t try sliding or lifting the door from the bottom.

Before I go, there’s one more thing you should know about me. I have trouble remembering people’s names, and I’m told that memory lapses are fairly common. So, if you see me and we exchange glances, then I turn and flee in the opposite direction, don’t take it personally. You don’t want to be the one doing all the talking while I’m distracted by trying to remember your name.

I’m convinced I wasn’t born to be normal, so please don’t expect me to be.