What Could Possibly Be Worse?

I've been prompted lately to write about my most embarrassing moment from childhood. Well, there certainly are plenty to share. Take, for instance, my entire sixth grade year when I dressed like a total nerd and listened to The Monkees. Totally embarrassing to remember.

Oh, and then there was the time my sophomore year of high school that I passed out during swimming and had to be carried from the girls' locker room by a group of football players while wearing only my swimming suit. If I hadn't felt so sick, I would have died from the shame.

There are many stories like that, oh so many. But the story that takes the cake was the time I totally made of fool of myself during a high school dance.

Imagine a warm summer night lit only by the shimmering stars overhead; a large group of teenagers from three different high schools in a crowded parking lot; and the loud, thumping music provided by a DJ. Imagine dancing, laughing, talking and flirting going on all around you. Now put yourself in my shoes.

It was the beginning of my junior year. I had just turned sixteen and the dating possibilities seemed endless. My older sister provided proximity to so many older guys to choose from. That night at the dance I spied one, at least I thought I did. His name was Jim. I spotted him from across the parking lot where he danced with a group of unfamiliar girls. I figured they were meaningless drones from another school. I wanted to, had to get his attention. How better to do that than to give the guy a wedgie, right? Of course. So, naturally, I crossed the parking lot, walked up behind him, and placing my hands firmly on his shorts, gave his pants a great big Yank, yelling, "Wedgie fever!"

Imagine my mortification when a total stranger turned around to face me. A totally cute total stranger. A totally cute, total stranger who rightfully thought I was out of my mind.

"You're not Jim," I said, dumbly. "No, I'm not," he answered, his drone of girls looking on in contempt. I turned tail and ran back to my side of the parking lot faster than one could yell Wedgie Fever.

The moral of the story is: Never, ever try to get attention by assaulting someone's nether regions with an attack on their underwear. Not, I repeat, NOT a good idea.

Post edit: I forgot to give credit where credit is due. You can thank Emmy for this post. Click on over to her site to read more embarrassing stories.