Monday, July 29, 2013

My Most Embarrassing Story.

I think the time has come that I am finally prepared to share this with the world. I can't believe I'm doing this willingly.

The first time I shared this story I was in college. It was probably 5 years after the incident and I was still so mortified by what happened that I hadn't spoken a word of it until then. Well, on a quick college road trip to Lava Hot Springs, sitting in the warm water with some friends, we took turns asking questions and exchanging stories. When the question came up, "What is your most embarrassing moment?"

I knew the answer. I had my backup answers ready. The ones I always gave when this inevitable question arose.
         "I ran off stage to throw up in the middle of a dance at U.S. Championships."
         "I fell 6 times in a row in the snow after the bus dropped me off in front of my apartment. All while the bus driver waited for me to finally get up safely while the bus full of 60 of my college peers watched."
         "On a first date while walking across a parking lot, I slipped, my date tried to help me and I pulled him down too. At which point he slammed his head into a parked car."

These were all embarrassing, yes, and great stories. But the time had come to finally share my actually, true, most embarrassing moment. I was shocked with myself when the words actually started spilling from my lips. But the second it started speaking, I realized how incredibly hysterical it actually was.

Now the time has come to share with the rest of world.

I was sitting in class during my first semester of my high school career. Eager to make friends and fit in, I acted my part accordingly. I went for the trendy girl image with lots of friends. The last things I wanted was anything to make me the weird, different girl. This mindset only added to my embarrassment.

Here I am, the period after lunch, and it just hits me. BAM! My stomach is going to explode! To this day, I have never had such a terrible stomach ache. This was not just food indigestion. Something was terribly wrong, and I could feel that "wrong" pushing as hard as it could to get out of my system.

And contrary to popular belief, girls do fart. It happens. We try to be polite and hold it until we are blue in the face. But in the end, we all have to let it out at some point.

I tried every trick in the book to keep it in. I was already at my blue in the face point, but I was determined. I knew whatever was in there was ready to reek havoc. But finally, it crawled it's way out.

Soon, every person around me starts erupting in gagging and dry heaves. The rest of the class looked on in innocent sympathy, knowing the feeling, and glad they were in far enough range to avoid the gasses that were certainly clouding our part of the classroom. Little did they know they were about to find themselves under attack as well.

A girl next to me, disgusted by the smell, starts throwing blame and trying to find the source. She turns and angrily tells me, "I think it was Ryan!"

"Yeah, it had to be Ryan! How could he!?"

I protested the smell and tried to act disgusted instead of embarrassed right along with the rest of the class. Yes, the rest of the class. By this point, it had reached every person in the suddenly close quarters. Even with the unusually wide spread of odor, there was an even more unusually long linger time. It would NOT go away.

I was counting the seconds, then minutes, waiting for it to dissolve. But it wouldn't. Finally, my teaching reached her limits. She tried to stay mature and play it off. This was no longer possible. Determined to get rid of the stench. She made the entire class check the bottom of their shoes for poop.

I am that girl. I brought an entire class of people to tears with my fart.
And we had to check our shoes for poop.