Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Embarrassing Things

A few weeks ago, I posted about finding the other me on You Tube, and I said that thank God I had never posted embarrassing videos of myself singing on You Tube. I mean, my God.

When I was writing up that post, I was trying to think of things I have done that were publicly embarrassing (on purpose, that is), and I couldn't. I guess I haven't done too many humiliating things, which seems strange--seems like there should be many incidents. Probably there are, but I've repressed them or else allowed my sleep deprived brain to delete those in favor of more important data--like  remembering brushing my teeth.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait long before I did something embarrassing.

One recent morning I was walking the whippersnapper to school and saw this guy sitting outside with his young son-- which he does every Thursday because his son loves watching the garbage truck. He's done this for a at least two years every Thursday, and we always see him (because we're watching the garbage truck too), except I never knew his name or where he lived. (We watched from our window, see.) But on this day, it was the first day I'd actually come out of the house while there were there.

He said hello and I said hello. He asked how I liked the whippersnapper's school. We chatted a bit about the school, and finally I asked, "Where do you live?" Because see, he must live close by to always come for the garbage truck. I had him pegged for the pink house three doors down.

He gave me a weird look. "Just over on Jones Street, Sierra."

I froze. How did he know my name? (And Jones Street is just the street above ours.) I smiled weakly and pretended I knew what he was talking about and then feigned hearing the school bell from blocks away.

As soon as he was out of sight, I remembered. He's the husband of my friend Tiffany, who is part of my mommy playgroup. The little boy is her older son, whom I see every Wednesday. I've been in their house several times.

This was a horrible, horrible gaffe. I hoped fervently he was still there by the time I had dropped the whippersnapper off and walked back. I even remembered his name by then! But no, he was gone. So I was left to text Tiffany and say how sorry I was, and how I couldn't believe the enormity of my brain fart.

No worries, she texted back. He understands Mommy Brain. He's totally laughing about it.

I deserved that. He probably had a good laugh when he got home. "Hey hon, guess how cr-aaaaazy that Sierra is!"

Ugh. This is the stuff that makes it into my fiction. It kind of has to. So, go on. Tell me your embarrassing story.


9 comments:

Linda G. said...

I had a great embarrassing story to tell you...but I just forgot it. ;)

(If you think Mommy Brain is bad, just wait until Menopause Brain hits you. *grin*)

Cathryn Leigh said...

Linda... you now have me scared.... Anyway... Hm... embarassing things. If only My mommy brain can remember. I've got a dose of exhausted on top of it, so I might not be able to think of anythings, wait... No... *sigh*

I know I've definately forgotten peoples names before. I promise if I think of something I'll come back and let you know. *grin*

:} Cathryn

Steven J. Wangsness said...

Oh, Lord, where do I start?

How about asking "another parent" at the PTA what he thought of the teachers, only to be reminded that I was talking to my son's teacher, whom I'd met several times before.

Going over to a girl's house in college, tryin' to chat her up and win her heart, only to embarrass myself when I sat on her chair and broke it.

Introducing my eight-grade Spanish class to the big evening assembly and forgetting my own name.

Advising a woman friend of mine who was trying to get rid of an unwanted suitor to tell him she had herpes, only to be told a few minutes later that she *did* have herpes.

I could go on and on...

Susan Flett Swiderski said...

The worst one I can think of right now is when I asked a gal at church when her baby was due. Y'see, she and I had already been pregnant at the same time for two other pregnancies, so I was teasing her about not waiting for me this time. And she hadn't been to church in months, y'see ...

You got it. She wasn't pregnant. (Now, unless I actually see a baby's head crowning between a woman's legs, I will NEVER assume someone is pregnant.)

DL Hammons said...

I hate that feeling!

Not having a sense of smell, there are days when I come home from work and my wife holds her nose around me that I wonder what the people who I work with were thinking. :)

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