You know how some magazines have a feature where readers send in their embarrassing stories and they print them all on one page in little blurbs? I love those.
I love the sense of camaraderie I feel from reading about other people's humiliation. Kind of like we're all in this together. It's like, hey you crapped your pants at the mall? Me too. Let's hug.
I woke up feeling kind of low this morning, saw a random picture of some french fries (don't ask) and was reminded of one of my embarrassing stories, which is fairly tame and thankfully does not involve pooping myself, so I thought maybe we could have an embarrassing story day here at Wide Lawns and Narrow Minds. I have a treasure trove of mortification from which to draw, let me tell you.
I'll start simple though...
Some time ago, when I lived in Atlanta, I went out to meet some friends at a very popular and crowded restaurant. While waiting for our table, I found a seat at the bar next to a woman who was enjoying a plate of crisp, heavenly, truffle fries. All I could smell was the delicious salty, fatty, truffled, parmesan goodness of these fries.They looked like the most delicious, golden, beautiful french fries that have ever existed. They intoxicated me. They called to me and I was starving and must have had low blood sugar, because without even thinking, I absent-mindedly grabbed one of those delicious fries off of her plate and popped it in my mouth. Then another and another and I swear, I didn't even really realize it was happening and at first, neither did the person that the fries actually belonged to. Finally, she turned around and saw me about to pinch another one so defending her dinner, the horrified woman actually smacked my hand! I was mortified and tried to apologize, even offering to pay, but the woman caused a scene and demanded a whole new dish, which I think was a bit of an overreaction, my God. I was so embarrassed that I sneaked out and went to a nearby Steak-N-Shake drive-thru to satisfy my fry craving. Not even joking. My friends teased me about it for years afterwards.
Ok, your turn. Cheer me up with your crazy, embarrassing stories. I don't even care how dirty or messed up they are and yes, if it's that bad go ahead and comment anonymously. You're always safe on my blog.