"Top Ten" or "The Great Emasculato"


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"Top Ten" or "The Great Emasculato"
« on: February 10, 2017, 12:50:06 AM »
I puked at work again. Speaking in public does that, along with pit stains. I was asked to give a presentation and I didn't go more than a few seconds before getting nervous and puking. This was actually the second time that's happened, but both were under the same circumstances.  The first time, I lied to my boss and said it was something I ate at lunch. The second time, I just admitted speaking in front of people made me nervous. Both times were equally humiliating, I'd say, but it could have always been worse seeing as how those two incidents weren’t the most humiliating vomit stories I’ve ever had.  I once ate shrimp as a kid and it gave me food poisoning, which I only found out the next day when I went to Wal-Mart and ended up doing the double-dragon in the cereal aisle.  That was my most embarrassing vomit story.  Of course, when it comes to the most embarrassing moments of my life in general, it’s not even the worst.  Maybe it’s in the top ten most humiliating moments of my life, but it’s not at the top of the list.  It might be number ten or something.  Number nine would be the time I had a job interview and called the interviewer Dad by accident.

Anyway, like I said, I puked at work. Telling you my job isn't important. It's mundane. It's boring. And I wear a tie. When I told my boss I was nervous giving presentations, he told me he would give all future presentations to Sam. I hate Sam. I call him Smug Sam, or at least that's what I call him in my head. I know that with Sam giving presentations now, it means he will take all the credit for my ideas, which means more bonuses for Sammy. Also, I puked on my tie. Luckily, it was on a Friday so I could shop for a new tie in the morning. Unlucky for me, my sister called me up that night and asked me if I wanted to go to some party the next evening.  I love my sister and everything, but she can be a bit much.

She’s younger than me by two years and while it's typical for an older sibling to bully a younger sibling, somehow the roles were reversed here. She was freakishly strong.  There were several times when the two of us were getting ready for school in the mornings; I would rush to get in the bathroom first, but it wasn't uncommon for her to butt in and push me out of the way or snatch me by the back of my shirt and yank me to the ground, then she would go inside and lock the door behind her. There was one incident as a teen when I had managed to get in the shower first, but like an idiot, I forgot to lock the door behind me, so she barged in, pulled the curtain back, and dragged me out of the bathroom, all soapy and wet. My dad thought it was hilarious seeing me shivering outside the bathroom and my mom at least had my sister open the door to get me a towel so I would stop dripping on the carpet. On my list, it's up there at maybe number five or six.  As I was saying, there were a lot of instances like that and they weren't always bathroom related. For instance, sometimes I would be watching TV and she would tackle me, wrestle the control from my hands, then change the channel to watch her show. If I tried to get the remote back, she would give me one or two thumps on the head. If I slugged her back, she would just punch harder so I learned not to fight back too much growing up.

Then there was mom and dad's annual brunch party. They would invite everyone they knew to these boring old brunches, usually on the first Saturday of spring. We were expected to dress up and look photogenic. I hated getting up early for those things, but I was about 9 when I had the worst brunch of my life. I was supposed to get up earlier that morning, but I slept in. My mom didn't realize it until several guests had already arrived, so she sent my little sister to get me out of bed and in typical fashion, she came in and tore the blankets off. "Get up, mom says," she told me. I rolled away from her and tried to get the blanket from the floor, but she began shaking me, "You have to get up". I pushed her arm away and tried to sleep, but at that point, I felt her tiny little arms wrap themselves around my torso and pull me right out of bed and onto the floor. I flailed and yelled, but she had no trouble dragging me out the door and soon, I was in the living room. I looked up and saw some of our neighbors and friends of my parents standing around. They laughed and smiled because I'm sure it looked hilarious to them to see my little sister drag me around the house like that while I was still in my pajamas. I decided enough was enough and found the strength to pry her hands away and stand up. I gave her a good push, which made her stagger. Undaunted, she pushed back and I fell right on my butt and what little bit of courage I had quickly faded. It was at that point, I looked up and noticed Stacey Dawson's parents. I had a crush on her at the time and had one since kindergarten. Sure enough, Stacey was sitting on the couch beside them with the most confused look on her face. There was no way I could salvage this situation and I knew I was better off getting out of there as soon as possible, so I flipped over on my hands and knees and literally tried to crawl away. My heart sank when I felt two hands grab my waist and pull me to my feet. It was then that I realized I had nothing left. No dignity was salvaged that day and the little sob that came out from between my lips confirmed it. I could only pout and sniffle as my little sister giggled and shouted a command, "Come on, Mom's waiting," then she marched me through the living room to the kitchen. I simply plodded forward as she pushed against my back, trying to ignore the chuckles and the occasional "aww" that followed me. It didn't matter at that point. My mom gasped when she saw us since I was still in my pajamas, so she ordered me to get dressed and comb my hair; I had to quickly run back through the living room to my bedroom, trying my best not to make eye contact. The brunch started a few minutes later and everyone pretty much went about their business. From then on, Stacey and her friends would always whisper and giggle when I saw them at school. Even that was probably only the fourth most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me.

Now you understand why I didn’t want to talk to my sister, so when she called me up and invited me to go to a party, I told her I was shopping that morning.  I kicked myself when I said I was shopping in the morning because she mentioned that there would be plenty of time to go to the party afterwards.  I kicked myself even harder when she asked if she could go shopping with me as well and “make a day of it”.  Again like a dope, I agreed to go shopping with her, but I at least put my foot down about the party while talking to her over the phone.  It was a small victory.

I've always hated parties because if you're single, you're expected to hook up. This reminds me of another humiliating moment in my life, actually.  Let’s say it’s number five or six.  Oh, I said the shower incident was five or six, didn’t I?  Well, that one was number five.  This one would be number six.

I’m a lightweight when it comes to drinking.  Two beers and I’m usually pretty buzzed and a third usually knocks me out, so two and a half tends to do the trick.  I was at a party in college.  I was hanging out with my roommate and making sure I nursed the one beer in my hand since I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.  “You’re empty,” he told me as he took a closer look at the bottle, not knowing how little tolerance I had and me not wanting to share that bit of information.  Before I could say anything, he whisked himself away and before I could think up some lame excuse, he whisked himself back with another.  I slowly began drinking it while chatting with some friends and I guess I just got too comfortable with the whole situation and drank too quickly.  I’m a bit fuzzy on the details of what happened next.  Different people have told me some variation, but the end result was me getting clawed up by a cat.  The person hosting the party had an orange tabby cat.  I got it in my head the cat looked just like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh and I began loudly telling my friends this, which got everyone’s attention; the next logical step, apparently, was to pick up the cat, throw it in the air, and do my best impression of Tigger’s laugh.  The cat twisted around and next thing I know, I’m getting stitches in the ER. So yeah, I tend to hate parties.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yeah, my sister wanted me to go to a party and I didn’t want to go.
We met up at the mall the next morning.  I had already picked out a new tie and bought it, so I was mostly just standing around, waiting for my sister to finish.  She didn’t mention the party until about an hour after we got there.  She always had a roundabout way of getting to a topic.

"So, ya got a girlfriend?," she asked.
"No, not at the moment," I groaned, dreading the conversation I knew would take place.
"Why not? You gotta go out and meet people."
"I meet people all the time."
"You gotta meet the right people. Come to the party tonight. I mean it."
"I dunno."
"Why not?"
"I'm just not into parties."
"Hey, you're coming and that's final," she playfully jabbed my shoulder, "Don't make me kick your ass. I can still beat you up."
"What? When did you beat me up?," I tried to play it off like I couldn't remember and I'm not sure why.
"All the time. What are you talking about?"
I tried to shrug it off, “I think you might be exaggerating."
"No way, I was probably the only girl who could beat up her big brother.  It’s something to be proud of. Do you remember the time at Mom and Dad's brunch? You got it bad that time."
"They always had brunches."
"Yeah, but that was the epic one. The legendary one."
Again, I played it off, "They were all pretty boring to me. Not sure I would say any of them were memorable, let along legendary."
"I dragged you all up and down the house. Everyone saw it!," she snorted a bit as she laughed which always bugged me, "I remember, I had to pull you out of bed.  Your chicken legs were kicking everywhere and you were screaming and crying. You don't remember that?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"I think Stacey Dawson was there. Didn't you have a crush on her or something?"
"Not really."
"You cried in front of her and everything. You have to remember that!"
"I don't know. Maybe?"
She got two handfuls of the clothes she wanted to try on, then started toward the change room, "So anyway, are you coming tonight or not?"
"Yeah," I said with a roll of my eyes.

   So I got to this party at my sister’s friend’s house.  What’s the first thing I see?  Shrimp.  They were serving shrimp.  There were some chips and stuff too, obviously, but since all the snacks were right there next to it, I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything and because I didn’t want to eat at all, I knew that I had better not drink any of the booze.

“This is Peter and Diane,” my sister said as she introduced the married couple responsible for the party.  I politely shook their hands.  My sister was in the same yoga class with Diane or something.  I guess after meeting them, I was meant to mingle.  I’m not good at mingling or small talk.  Oh, that reminds me of another story.  I’m doing this weird countdown thing aren’t I?  Let’s call this one the eighth most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me.

I was at my ten year class reunion.  I hadn’t seen anyone from high school for years, so I was excited to meet them, but I soon found out that if the last time you saw someone was when you were graduating high school, it’s amazing how little you have in common.  Or worse yet, you have trouble remembering someone or they think you’re someone else.  All three of those things happened to me in one conversation with a little cherry of dumb luck on top.  It wasn’t too long after I got there.  I was by the snacks and feeling pretty good about myself considering they didn’t have any shrimp.  Suddenly, a hand flew through the air and landed on my back.  “It’s been ages,” the unknown man said, “You look about the same as you did in high school.”  “Thanks, you too,” I said as I struggled to recognize who he was.  I am mostly positive the guy was in the watch business or at least collected watches or, I don’t know, maybe he thought I liked watches.  He started going on about the watch he just bought and started discussing brands.  I kept spouting out the odd, “Yeah, sure” or “I think so”.  I had no idea what he was going on about and it got really awkward when he called me Phil.  He thought I was Phil Thorpe.  I wasn’t Phil Thorpe.  I didn’t want to embarrass the guy, so I didn’t correct him.  The guy asked if my dad was healthy these days and I just randomly said he passed away some years ago.  I have no idea why I said that.  I figured Phil’s dad might have died at some point and went with it.  He kept talking to me, though, which made me more uncomfortable, so I started looking around for a way out.  I guess I offended him because he asked what I was looking around for.  I got defensive and told him he was imagining things.  That just made things worse and he raised his voice.  I tried to calm him down but after a while, he blurted out, “What happened to you, Phil?”  Just then, Phil Thorpe walked over to him, smiled, and said, “I’m right here.”  There was an awkward pause between the two of them, then the guy looked over at me.  I walked away.  I turned around and I walked and kept walking until I was in the parking lot, then I drove home.  I didn’t know what else to do.  I thought I might’ve been in the clear as the guy obviously didn’t know who I was, but apparently Phil recognized me because I ran into another former friend from high school who told me, “Phil Thorpe said you were being weird at the reunion”.  I guess everyone found out.

I keep getting sidetracked, sorry.  So I was at this party and I was bored out of my mind because I didn’t want to talk, eat, or drink.  I was standing in the corner alone when… You know what?  I’ll go ahead and tell you the seventh most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me.  It was another awkward conversation.  I’m telling you, I’m no good with these things.  So at my last job, there was this co-worker who was smoking hot.  I had a thing for her, but I never acted on it. One night, I got a text message from her, “Come play with me,” it read.  I forgot what exactly I texted back, but she responded with something along the lines of, “I want to play.”  I couldn’t believe what I was reading.  I asked what we should play and she said “Doctor and nurse.  You are the doctor.”  I was sweating.  Out of the blue, this woman just texted me with this kind of dirty talk?  I began typing out my response.  I won’t go into details, but it was some of the filthiest, dirtiest things I could imagine.  I raised my thumb, hovering over the send-button and thank God I didn’t press it because the next message was, “Sorry, my daughter got a hold of my phone.”  Yeah, it turned out she had a five year old daughter who I guess was bored, got her mom’s phone somehow, and randomly texted her co-worker.  I never got the full story.  The next day at work she said she thought it was cute that I was playing along and I pretended like I somehow knew it was her kid.  While I was the only person who realized the situation, it still ranked pretty high since I could have easily gone to prison for it.

Okay, back to the party.  While I was there, I saw someone I didn’t expect to ever see again.  Her name was Beth.  Beth was the first woman I dated when I went off to college.  I thought we were made for each other and that we really hit it off.  I guess this is what this whole list thing has been leading up to because I am now going to tell you my top three most humiliating moments.
« Last Edit: March 03, 2017, 02:06:44 AM by AP »


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Re: "Top Ten" or "The Great Emasculato"
« Reply #1 on: February 10, 2017, 12:50:29 AM »
Hopefully, the past seven stories gave you a taste of what’s in store.  I thought she was the one, so I decided to propose to her.  Not just that, but I proposed to her in the campus food court where we first met.  I also took the initiative to ask one of the local bands to play a Greenday song.  Everyone in the food court turned to watch as the band started playing and I bent down on one knee in front of the Cinnabun and asked her to marry me.  She was at least nice about it when she said no.  “I’m sorry, but it has only been about three months,” she told me quietly, “I don’t think we’re ready,” then she kind of half-ran and half-walked away.  She was a sweet girl, honestly, but this was the most humiliating moment of my life.  Of course, someone recorded it on a phone and it ended up on the internet.  You can probably still see the video.  Search for “Idiot proposes to girlfriend in front of a Cinnabun”.  That’s me.

Now for number two.  I didn’t see her again for about two years.  My roommate (yeah, the guy who got me drunk that one time) brought a girl home with him one night.  I was in our apartment, playing a video game when I heard the door opening and I could hear the sound of a girl.  It wasn’t that uncommon for the guy to bring a girl home so I didn’t look up from the screen when he introduced me, but when I heard my name in a familiar voice, I looked up and saw Beth there.  She awkwardly said hello and I sort of nodded and mumbled at her, then they disappeared into his bedroom.  I didn’t feel like playing video games at that moment and decided on just going to sleep.  That was a bad move because I could hear my roommate and her.  It seemed like they were going at it all night and I’m sure she never made those sort of noises when we were together.

Number three happened the following morning.  I was already up and eating cereal and she got up before my roommate.  We locked eyes and she politely asked if she could have some cereal.  I poured her a bowl and she sat next to me.

“So how have you been?,” I asked.
“Great.  How about you?”
“Same here,” I said stupidly because this was not only an awkward moment but like I said, I’m horrible at small talk.
“Almost done with school?”
“Yeah, next year will be my last,” I nodded toward my roommate’s door, “So… you and him?”
“I don’t know,” she said sheepishly.
“Because if it’s not serious…,” I began like an idiot and then stopped.
“Oh,” she smiled and her tone was as if she was looking at a basket of puppies, “You’re still in love with me.”
“No,” I half-shouted.
“Fine.  Sorry,” she removed herself from the table, “I’m gonna hop in the shower.”

   She disappeared into the bathroom and a few moments later, my roommate emerged.  He heard the water running and looked over at me, “Is Betty taking a shower?”  I was floored.  “Her name’s Beth,” I growled.  He shrugged and poured himself a bowl of cereal.  I can’t blame him.  He didn’t know we had history, but the fact that she was just a one-night stand for him and couldn’t be arsed to even remember her name easily made this the third worst moment ever.

   So years later, I found myself at this party I didn’t want to go to and I saw her standing across the room.  She was talking to someone and didn’t see me, so I quickly turned to go outside.  On the way out, I hit a bookshelf by accident and it made the vase wobble on top of it.  It didn’t fall over or anything but the sudden movement combined with the noise got a lot of attention, but there was no time to turn to see if Beth saw me.  I got out of there and stood outside the front door.  I thought I was going to puke.  Wouldn’t you know it, but my sister came out a few seconds later, “The hell, man?,” she said.

“Did you see Beth in there?,” I snarled.
“Is she here?,” she asked.
“Did you know she’d be here?”
“No.  She must be a friend of a friend or something.”
“I”m not going back in there.”
“Come on,” she lightly punched me in the shoulder but it hurt any way, “You don’t have to talk to her.  Talk to someone else.  There are plenty of singles here tonight for you to meet.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Are you that nervous to be around Beth?”
“I would be nervous no matter what.”
“So you’re nervous about meeting women.  Is it because of…,” she tilted her head down as if indicating something.
“Because of what?”
“You know,” she did it again.
“No I don’t,” I tilted my head back at her mockingly.
“Come on, you know I’ve seen it," she gave me a nudge in a sincere attempt to cheer me up.
“You saw what?"
“The day I threw you out of the shower.  You can’t pretend to not remember that one,” she laughed and clapped her hands a little too loudly as she snorted again and I just prayed no one was within earshot of what I knew would be coming out of her mouth next, “I think you were about seventeen when I saw it, but you still had the tiniest little -"
I quickly cut her off, "Hey, I’ve grown up since then!"
She smiled and glanced down, "I doubt it. You haven't had a date in years. It can't be that big,"
“Can we change the subject?,” I whined.
“Look, whatever your insecurity is, face it head on.  No one here knows you but her and she doesn’t even know you’re here yet.  Besides, she’s always been pretty nice to you.  What do you have to lose?  Go back in there, smile and nod at whatever conversation you find yourself in.  You’ll be fine.”

   I went back inside the house.  I looked around for her and finally spotted her sitting in a couch.  I figured I would go say hello.  What harm could it do?  I started forward but then noticed everyone was sitting down, facing the TV.  Peter and Diane were getting a video ready.  “We have a surprise for you, Beth,” Peter said.  “I hope it’s not the video I think it is,” she laughed.  He brought up a video and I saw the familiar Cinnabun.  A younger version of me was standing with his stupid back facing the camera while a younger version of Beth looked at him, trying her hardest not to cringe.  “Oh, this is the most embarrassing thing ever,” she laughed.  Peter began to play the video and I turned and left before anyone could see that it was me.  I guess things could have been worse, all things considered.