February 14, 2008

My most embarassing moment. ever.

The year was 1991. My bangs were poofed sky high and no amount of wind was gonna knock ‘em down. Besides, I used L.A. Looks Hairspray. That stuff was like spray on super-glue. It would take an nuclear meltdown to tear down my wall of hair . I wore a stylish calf-length black and white plaid jumper that day. No pantyhose, (7th graders can get away with that look) white socks and the ever so popular Keds tennis shoes. My outfit was perfect.

It started out like any ordinary day would for this NKOTB lovin’ gal. Hangin’ Tough played loudly on the radio as my Mom drove me to school in her crappy Mercury Sable. I was feeling good. Little did I know what the future held for me that horrendous day.

I made it through 1st period alright, then I felt that twinge in my crotch. All girls know it. And all girls FEAR it when it happens. Admit it girls, you've felt the twinge. It is especially worrisome if you are wearing a black and white jumper and ill-prepared for the first day of your period. I quickly eased myself up to the teacher’s desk to ask for permission to go the bathroom. I moved ever so gently as not to erupt the encompassing flow of death that I was sure was coming very soon. I made it to the bathroom, but in my rush to get the heck outta the classroom I realized I forgot to ask the teacher for a pad. I didn't care how urgent the need, I wasn't walking all the way back to ask for one. That would be like death warmed over and social suicide for this quick thinking 7th grader. No, I would have to come up with another plan.

Being of sound mind and body, I rolled up some toilet paper to create a make-shift maxi pad and placed ever so gently in the crotch on my underwear. I smiled at how frugal I was being. Heck, I was so pleased with my little invention I just decided to not even bother asking for a pad for later that day. And that decision is where my trouble started.

Next up was recess. I knew I had to hurry! I tromped my happy ass outside to join in a game of kickball. I was flying high and feeling good. I kicked the ball with the greatest strength I had ever felt run through my body. I ran as fast as my semi-chubby legs would allow me.

As I ran, I felt it. I felt it free itself from my underwear and felt it float onto the ground. I saw it there. Laying on the ground. Just staring at me. I tried to save face and acted surprised as I witnessed what lay in front of me. Sheepishly I shrugged my shoulders as if I didn’t know who put that ungodly thing in the middle of the kick-ball field. Everyone knew it was me. Everyone. I wanted to crumple up and die. I wanted to be anywhere but there. Heck, I would have settled for being that damn piece of toilet paper on the ground reflecting the sun’s fierce glow in all its red glory.

I then decided it would be a good idea to put my foot over it and try to cover it up and hide it. Which I did. But then I couldn’t move. People were yelling at me to run to 2nd base. They were yelling at me to pick up my icky pad. They were laughing and snickering. Those that didn’t see “the incident” as I lovingly refer it to…would soon know about it. Gossip like this would spread like a wildfire on a hot windy California day at my small school. They might as well have put the story on the marquis. Life as I knew it was over. I picked up the toilet paper, wadded it up in my hand and made a beeline for the nearest bathroom.

"Dear God!", I prayed as I ran, "why me? Why now? Life was going so great! I’ll never live this down. Oh, God WHY?!!"

I tried to boost my shattered ego a tad by telling myself that no one noticed…that no one will care…that I just imagined it (all of which were lies and really were not making me feel any better).

But just when I was feeling a little bit better and had calmed down after my frightful accident...... I saw the “stain” on my dress. I knew that this day was far from being over for me and my very unwelcome visiting Aunt Flo.

Oh, God had much bigger plans for me that day. In my 7th grade mind I began to go through the solutions to this problem. I could:
1. Call Mom to come a save me.
2. Tell the Teacher and she will save me.
3. Hide in the bathroom. Forever.
4. Flush myself down the toilet.
5. Find some “White Out” (the liquid pen eraser stuff) and fix this little problem. I’d paint it on the “stain” and all will be good.

I decided in a flash that # 5 is the best solution for me. I sneaked out of the bathroom, down the hallway stairs and around the corner to our classroom. I located my desk and began rummaging for my white out. I knew it was there somewhere. I looked, and looked, and looked again. No amount of rummaging was going to make it appear. I knew my time was limited.

I decided to go with plan B... Erika, my "frienemy" had some in her pencil box…I’ll just borrow hers to fix this little problem. An added bonus was that she sat right next to me.

I located her white out, put her pencil box back where I found it…slithered down the hallway, around the corner and up the stairs to the bathroom again.

I carefully painted the white-out on the stain. Aunt Flo had mostly kept herself contained to the black part of my plaid jumper, but I wanted to cover up the white area that was stained too. I always prided myself on my creativity, and well....this was art!

Much to my surprise the white-out DID cover my stain. If it only would cover up the social downfall I was about to encounter. Outside the bathroom door, I heard voices. I panicked and decided to throw the white-out in the garbage. I even made sure to cover it up with paper towels so no one would see it there. Don’t ask me why I threw it away, but it seemed like a great solution at the time. I didn’t want to be caught with it. What would people assume?!

Recess was now over and all my classmates were lining up to make their way back to the classroom. I hung my head, and joined in the ranks. My best friend, Buffy, heartily dared anyone to say anything to me. I guess they listened because I never heard one snicker after that. No one ever talked about my kickball “incident” again. At least they didn't discuss it while I was around.

It was now 6th period and the day was almost over. I see that Erika is searching for something in her pencil box. I silently pray that it is not the white-out. Because I knew it was safely hidden under paper towels in the girls bathroom. Thank God I had covered it up with paper towels. How smart I was to be so stealthy! Her shrill voice rung out for all to hear, “Mrs. Thompson! I can’t find my white out! I KNOW it was in here ’cause I used it this morning! I think someone STOLE it.”

I kept my big mouth shut. And I think my heart stopped beating for at least 10 minutes.

Originally I posted this story on a website called The Pioneer Woman
for a Wii giveaway. I didn't win, of course. Go figure. I tweaked it a bit before I posted it for your reading pleasure. And yes, this really did happen. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried. Be inspired and tell the world about your most embarrassing moment!

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