I’m not even sure if this qualifies as an embarrassing moment for ME necessarily, but it’s close enough.
Kelsey, Elana and myself were all in class one day and happened to be giving group presentations. Unfortunately, our professors caught on early that we should be separated at all costs and we were placed in different groups. It’s funny, because I don’t even remeber what exact class we were in or what the presentation was about. I think I actually blacked out for a bit. You see, Elana has this amazing “fancy” voice. She uses it during situations that call for the utmost professionalism. This fact is integral to the story because you need to imagine this happening in the fancy voice: mighty, confident and powerful. Because this is why it was so unbelievably fucking funny when Elana, in the middle of her presentation, said “alcohol aboose.”
The minute it happened – I’m talking the nanosecond – I knew I was done. I tried will all my human willpower NOT to look at Kelsey sitting beside me but it was as if I could feel the laughter radiating from her brain and was siphoning it directly into mine. Kelsey then leans over, picks up my pencil, and in her beautifully neat printing simply writes: “Aboose?” My stomach began to instantly and violently convulse with silent laughter as my face exploded into an unnatural shade of red. Because the only thing worse than laughing uncontrollably, is laughing uncontrollably when you’re not supposed to be making a sound. As Kelsey tried to hide her face, I looked around and saw that our current physical condition was gaining more attention than our dear friend’s presentation. Not wanting to make things worse for Elana, I decided to take action, standing up and escorting myself out of the classroom and into the hall where I promtly began howling for a good 7 minutes.
All in all, not too embarrassing for me necessarily…but definitely an awkward situation.
The time I made out with the chaperone of a Mexican exchange program for high school students who were attending our college. At least I didn’t make out with one of the actual high school students. Regardless, ¡que paso, Lalo!
At the beginning of each year, our program hosts a very bland, often uninspired softball tournament. At the beginning of my second year, however, I decided to spice things up by polishing off a bottle of red wine by noon, before the tournament had really even kicked into high gear. Although many of my peers eventually caught up to my level of debauchery, I’m *fairly* sure there was a good 3-4 hours in which I was simply running around in the field, bottle in hand and wildly swinging a bat.
It takes a lot for me to actually get off my ass and hit the gym, so I usually use music as a major motivator. And by major motivator, I mean complete swagger-defining soundtrack. And I strut. Ohhh how I strut. One day, I was feeling particularly bossy after a good workout and walked outside to my car like I was doing the damn thing on the red carpet. I got into my car (which was an old ’91 Chevy Cavalier), kept my music blaring in my iPod, put my car into drive and began to exit the parking lot via the empty parking space in front of me.
Only one problem: I forgot about the concrete parking block in front of my car. As my car began to heave over the mighty slab of concrete below, it was like I was witnessing a car crash happening in slow motion. Except I wasn’t really crashing into another car…and my foot was on the gas. And I didn’t stop. Anyways, my car got stuck halfway over the parking block and I couldn’t drive any further over it, nor could I put my car in reverse and back up over it again. I was totally stuck.
After unleashing a wild string of profanity and a few punches into my steering wheel, I begrudgingly got out of my car, only to find a group of four dudes laughing hysterically at my misfortune. I then had to get back in my car, put it in reverse, and watch them LIFT my car up and push it backwards. One small push for mankind, one giant leap backwards for my entire gender.
And my Number One most embarrassingly glamorous college moment….
Halloween 2005. Campus bar. I’ve been drinking and acting as the proverbial Mother Hen all night towards Kelsey, who has been entertaining the notion of a certain gentleman. Now, it’s not that I intentionally try to dislike every man my friends are trying to conquer, but it’s been known to happen.
That night I was feeling particularly fiesty (I blame the costume), and could not find Kelsey ANYWHERE. We were supposed to be leaving soon, probably so we could hit up the Wendy’s late night drive-thru. Using my superhuman intuition, I guess that they were up in the seating area of the food court making out. And I was right! As I stormed out of the bar and up the huge flight of hard, concrete stairs…I began to recite the witty script I was going to use to bust them in the act of drunken love.
Quite frankly, I don’t even remember what I said, although I’m sure Kelsey does. The only thing I DO remember, is spitting out my wrath, abruptly turning around and storming off with major attitude. As I made it to the stairs, I felt that sudden panic that overwhelms your body when you realize you’re going down. And boy….was I ever going down.
I woke up at the bottom of the stairs with pieces of my costume all within about a 5 foot radius. Shoe over here, fedora hat over there, sharp pain in my left elbow riiiiight here. I was so stunned at what had just ocurred, that it didn’t resonate with me that NOBODY had seen it happen. So what did I do? I walked back into the campus bar and gave people the absolute, honest answer as to why my elbow was all bloody and bruised and I only had one suspender done up.
Needless to say, the story got around. And the best part of the urban legend that my graceful fall became, was the catch phrase: “Ceiling, stairs, ceiling, stairs.” Which was a witty description of “all that you must have seen” as I tumbled, kindly created by none other than Kelsey herself.