I was about 9-10 years old at the time. I had only recently immigrated to America and was just beginning to fit in a bit. I was still, however, far from being one of the cool kids. I was sitting in music class where we were all dutifully learning to play the recorder. Sitting right in front of my was one of the cool girls. Let's call her Kyla. She was pretty and had a bit of a mean streak which of course meant she shot to the top of the grade school hierarchy. I also had a bit of a crush of her. So we are sitting in class when Kyla goes to the bathroom. At the same time, the teacher calls up to the front of the class along with a few other students to write something on the board. I do as asked and go to sit down. I pick up the recorder off the desk as the class begins to play a song together. I noticed that the recorder tastes a little different. Kyla makes her return and we both realize that I sat down at her desk and began to play her recorder. The bitch launches into a tirade. I start apologizing but she is telling me how gross I am for doing what I did and that I probably did it on purpose. The teacher put an end to her berating but she made a few more snide remarks under her breath to her friend in front of her, knowing that I would hear it as well. I couldn't help it...I began to cry. I tried to hide it but of course the bitch noticed and loudly said "oh my god are you CRYING you little baby??" Now everyone else noticed and did what kids do so often...they joined in the mockery. It felt like the end of the world. The teacher let me go to the bathroom to wash up and scolded the class. By lunchtime, everyone had heard about it and the little headway I had made toward fitting in with my new peers was gone. It sucked. Fast forward to the present. I have been having sex with Kyla for almost a year now. Go me. One day while hanging out with her, I reminded her of the story. She had zero recollection of it. Bitch. Focus: Tell us about your most embarrassing event in your school career. Did you ever manage to get payback in some fashion as I did?
Warning **Long story** Spoiler It was in 4th grade, and since I got to this overpriced uppity school on Chicago's south side, I was not i the top tier of the popular kids, but I had friends with people that were in each of the major cliques. My biggest barrier against me being where I wanted to be socially were these two girls Laura and Lauren. They were best friends, and for some reason, hated me. Every year, everyone that had a birthday party invited everyone else, as each parent tried to get Except I never happened to get invitations to L & Ls joint parties. Of course, I showed up to them anyway after the second time when I didn't get invited. Dick move on my part, but they fucked up first. Anyway in first grade, once this realization locked in, I began guerilla warfare to get back. Every single class prank possible, trick candy with dye, whoopie cushions, stink bombs by their stuff, and everything. I caused the school to do bag checks in the morning because of these pranks. I never got caught, because the teachers loved me and didn't suspect me, the girls knew. They got their first strike revenge against me on this trip to this koi pond park (foreshadowing) that all the 4th graders went on to have this huge picnic with other schools. Everyone gets "dressed up", it was catered balls to the wall and had all the best junk food and shit we could all eat. Well, these girls get their revenge, Lauren comes up to me with a flower, and tells me Laura wants to talk to me offering peace since the classes finally split up in 5th grade. I fell for it because they were pretty for 4th graders looking at other 4th graders. So we all walk far away by a very dark, and active pond with the fish basically jumping out of the water, no idea why. Laura says she wants to kiss to prove that she's totally over our 4 year bitch war, that we're all growing up and need to act like it. She's standing on the edge of the pool, "close your eyes, lean forward..." Sidestep-> PUSH, SLIP, IN THE FUCKING POND!!! I'm screaming my head off, freaking out, of course it was only 3 feet deep, but the water was murky, dirt was getting in all my shit. Screamed my ass off. The girls run away giggling one way, my friends come another way. I tell the teachers, nothing happens to them, guess who's parents just donated like 20k? No wonder. I transfer at the end of 4th grade because paying that amount for schools is nuts. Fast forward a few years to Junior year in highschool. My best friend Eric was banging this girl that went to that same school that is elementary through highschool. No one leaves until college. I got dragged to this huge party at a mansion. We get there around 10-11 and everyone is already trashed. Everyone is getting rooms and fucking, or in the kitchen just drinking themselves in oblivion. Guess who I run into? L&L, already and shitfaced. They barely remember me, don't remember any of the hi-jinks, but since I'm a fucker that holds a grudge. If it didn't involve water, where I've almost drowned 5 times, I'd been cool, not this time. They are trying to find their bfs and want to get into rooms to fuck. I know their boyfriends from other random parties and pick-up basketball games. I tell them to go to the rooms and I'll tell they're boyfriends where they are. They buy it. I find their boyfriends, switch the rooms when I tell them, and hope the shitfacedness and lights off works out. My obvious genuis plan being each guy fucks the wrong girl, destroys two happy relationships and friendships as revenge for pushing me into a koi pond. Well it was June, but it was my Merry Fucking Christmas. Laura's boyfriend catches on and does not fuck Lauren. But guess fucking what? Laura was already fucking Lauren's boyfriend! Then when he walked in on this night, they were both drunk enough to forget their significant others were at the party. They start going at it fucking like cave people. Laura's bf walks in and catches them. Hours of crying fighting and talking later, it comes out that Laura has been fucking him for like 6 months of their respective 2 year relationships. Years of Relationship destroyed total: 4 Years of Friendship annihilated total: 10 Feeling of being a catalyst for revenge: Priceless.
In the seventh grade, I left the washroom with my skirt tucked into my panties. Since my mom did my shopping at the time, they were the worst kind of patterned granny undies imaginable. The school bitch, Carrie, was right behind me as I left the bathroom, and not only did she not tell me, she stayed behind me and interrupted anyone who came to talk to me, presumably so they couldn't tell me either. I spent 15 minutes during break wandering around like that, and the remainder of my school career trying to live it down, until I beat the shit out of her in grade twelve.
I figure I'll go with the road less traveled and regale you with stories in which I get embarrassed, yet I get no revenge at all. Just a whole lot of embarrassment on my part. I was a crier. I have no idea why, it's not like I had no pain tolerance. I actual could sustain an average amount of pain and roll with it. But in some instances for some reason, I would just cry. It might have been the shock of what was going on and me not being able to change it at all that caused it. But when shit went down, there was a good chance the water works were soon to follow. First instance that comes to mind is grade 2. My teacher's last name sounded oddly familiar to Trailer Park, so people would either call her Mrs. Toilet Paper (the initials of a compound name were TP) or just plain old Mrs. Trailer Park. And this teacher was a bitch. She was brand new, only ended up teaching at my school for one year before moving along, and for some reason she just has a fucked up way of running her classroom. One rule she had? If you wear a coat to school in the morning, you have to wear it every time you go outside for the rest of the day. She said that she noticed some kids getting colds (My god! A kid getting a cold in the winter/spring!?!?!?! Call the Hazmat team!) and figured not enough kids were wearing their coats when their parents wanted them to. So those spring mornings when it was kinda nipply out, but got scorching hot once the morning dew had burned off were hell for me. So not only am I slowed down by this out on the playground, but I'm also sweating my hairless, prepubescent balls off. Well one day I just said fuck it, and started leaving my coat just outside the classroom door. She started noticing and started getting pissed at me. Friends of mine hid their coats in their backpacks as soon as they got to school and told me to do the same, but I wasn't having any of it. That bitch can't go around making retarded rules, all willy nilly and get away with it. Well It all came to a head one day when she saw me leave my coat outside the door and yelled at me to come back inside. She had had enough and made me spend the rest of the recess inside the classroom. And then I started to cry. Not sure why it happened but it did. Nobody saw me actually crying, but the kid who sat beside me saw the red eyes when everyone came back in from recess, assumed it was crying and kinda started whispering to everyone about it. Second time I wasn't so lucky. Same teacher actually, different circumstance though. This was caused by a retarded double standard that I still fight to this very day. This being elementary school, she of course wouldn't let any boy wear a hat inside. I still don't see the logic behind this, but everywhere you go this rule was in place so nobody really fought it. Well that was until Jessica wore some cute little hat that matched her skirt. Trailer-Park didn't say shit to her for the whole morning, so I figured hats were fair game at this point. As soon as I threw mine on though, TP started busting my balls again. I pointed to Jessica, but she said that girls can because it matches her outfit. I mentioned that my shirt and hat are the same color so my shit goes together too. No dice. I ask her why boys can't wear hats in the class. She mumbles something about disrespect and tells me to keep it off. I put it on. She takes it off and says she'll give it back to me at the end of the day. And then I started to cry. It wasn't a hard, sobbing cry. But it was noticeable and everyone in the class saw. Nobody said anything cause they all agreed with me, but it still spread to the other classes after that that I was a crier. Third grade. New kick ass teacher, unfortunately the same outcome. He had this little game to practice everyone's knowledge for math and social studies. Spoiler You and another kid would stand up, he'd ask a question, first to answer get's a point. Loser sits down, next kid stands up. This goes around the classroom until someone gets 5 in a row. Then their name goes up on the board with a 1. If they get 5 more in a row, they get 2. But if anyone beats them, they have to sit down, and someone else starts a run at 5. If they get to 4, the person with their name on the board goes against them. If the new kid wins, his name gets put on the board. Well I was the fucking king at this game. At one point I had over 10 on math and around 5 or 6 on socials. Coolest kid ever. Anyways, one day another kid got to 4 on math and challenged me for my supremacy. Teacher asked a question, we both answered. I thought it was a tie so I was ready for another question. He however thought I had outright won, so he sat backdown and was about to wait for his next turn to take a run at me. But not the teach. Somehow he saw it as an outright win for him. I protested, the other kid questioned it and said that I had won, but he wasn't having any of it. Erasing that number and my name off the board was like punching me in the face. And then I started to cry. Now it was just getting ridiculous. Fast forward to grade 7. I've managed to curb my watery habit, but I knew it could come back at any time. Winter time and some friends were walking home from school, along with the new cute girl Heidi. This chick was not only super cute, but has no problem hanging out with the guys, and doing guy things. Like throw snowballs at each other. Well one day when we're all throwing snowballs at each other and Heidi joins right in. Only she isn't throwing snowballs. She'd make a small snowball, then squeeze it in her hand until it hardened and froze into a small iceball. And those things stung. Like everyone else, I'd been hit a few times on the walk home, but it wasn't a big deal until Heidi's iceball caught me. It didn't help that she was literally 3 feet away from me and could have just taken another step and simply punched me in the face. I actually might have preferred this to the eventual outcome. This iceball comes whipping at my face, and catches me right in the ear. And then I started to cry. Ever been hit in your ear when it's cold out with something hard? Ya it fucking hurts. But it wasn't enough to make me cry. But for some stupid reason, the waterworks still began. This had to be the worst time since my closest friends saw, and it was a girl who made me cry. Being grade 7, everyone was ruthless and they started making fun of me non-stop. Hell one of my friends would bring it up out of the blue until just recently. I'm sure there were more that I have forgotten over the years, but these seemed to be the most noteworthy. And as you can tell, most of those weren't really anyone else's faults so revenge was kinda impossible. Unless I managed to break that stupid Trailer-Park bitch's hip. Or kick her in the chode***. That woulda been sweet. ***I would not have been surprised at all if that old hag was actually a dude.
In 6th grade we were playing dodge ball outside (which is fucking awesome) and I had to take a piss. The football practice field we were playing on had a row of pine trees that separated it from the baseball field which was down the hill from it. The hill was pretty steep, very little grass, lots of sand and pine needles. Unbeknownst to me my friend Chris saw me heading to the trees and followed since he was knocked out of the game. I went through the pines to the edge of the hill so no one would see me, unzipped and started to piss. Midstream I was shoved violently from behind and tumbled, still pissing down the hill. I cartwheeled 15-20ft and looked up to see my friend's fat leering, laughing face. As soon as I started back up the hill he ran away. That's when I realized my pants were covered in piss. When I got back to the field all of my friends knew and were quickly telling other kids. I was smart enough to know I couldn't tell on him or just stand there so I ran back to my locker and found a pair of crappy paint covered pants that were at the bottom of my locker. When later asked about it I denied, denied, denied until the "rumor" went away. Revenge? I fucked his huge breasted sister and got her to give me naked photos of herself which I shared with our other friends when we were in high school.
Honestly, I never had any crazy revenge wars like this. Perhaps the reason was that I beat the absolute hell out of anyone that ever tried this bully shit with me. The school I went to was a very rural, very small school system. k-8 class size of around 75-100, graduating class size of 150-200 (this was an entire county consolidated BTW). Anyway, there were a few people who tried to bully me in elementary school, (football captian, which is weird cause I was on the football team) and a couple other jackasses who thought that it was worthy to make fun of me for being aethiest..... Well, all of those guys quickly learned, that even if they could kick my ass, I was not gonna stand for it. The QB/captain tried talking shit one time during a field trip to the vocational school, we were in weld shop. It was a large room, divided into tons of concrete booths, about the size of a phone booth, maybe a touch larger. There were like 4' wide hallways that ran the length of these rows of booths. We were waiting for our turn, and I cant even recall what he said, but the next 30 seconds of ensuing rage was quite amazing. I ened up bouncing him off of several of the walls where we finally ended up in a booth. I had him on the ground, neck bent at almost a 90 degree angle against the welder that was the in floor, totally beating the hell out of him. Around this time is when the weld shop teacher pulled me off him, from what I understand, he had to almost fight his way thru the crowd that had gathered. Anyway, the walk out was priceless, its about a 1/4 mile across this facility to the vocational school's principals office. That walk, with blood up to my elbows, passing most of my team mates and friends, covered in blood of someone elses, combined with the supposed "badass" of the school walking behind me holding his face, was easily the turning point in my schoolastic career. From that moment on, everyone always treated me much differently. Some were scared of me, but most were just happy cause no one really liked the guy anyway. Cue 10 years later, I saw this guy for the first time since graduation. In our home town, he would'nt even speak to me. HAHA, I found it hilarious, and challenging. I mean I'm a damn nice guy, the only fight i've been in since was against a group of black guys down town after I saw one in the group hit a girl. But other than crazy situations, i usually try to avoid conflict. But just the fact that this guy would'nt speak to me really made me want to show him a repeat of 10th grade. But alas, I held my composure.
I posted this one on the RMMB, but whatever - the new kids haven't read it. There are some other incidents, like the time I refused to do work and lifted up my desk lid and went to sleep with the teacher howling at me, but this was the worst. In my final year at school, on my way to a class which had been moved to an alternate location, I slipped and fell in the school swimming pool, which ran alongside the main classroom building. I was seen by +- 300 people. I was clearing an errant soccer ball, which came flying in over the fence. I got a great connection, right on the volley, but too close to the pool. One leg in, one leg out. Luckily, I didn't land on my nuts. I managed to rip the back of my pants, with obvious hilarity for everyone else. I had also successfully wrecked my underpants, too. People had actually left their classrooms and were laughing and pointing. I just wanted to be struck by lightning, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Of course, the headmaster arrived, with someone who was visiting the school, just as I had managed to compose myself. I managed to carry my heavy school bag in a way that hid my wrecked pants. For those who do not know, I HATED the headmaster, but I kept my shit together. Fortunately, the Boarding Establishment's Matron-on-duty was able to fix my pants. After that, I switched to boxers. Obviously, I could not ever get payback.
In 7th grade I had a crush on this chick Tiffany, who was one of my only chick friends at the time. I had an art class with her, and we sat in groups of four - our group consisting of the two of us, my friend Justin, and some other dude. This guy Justin was a little dorky, and wasn't really a good friend of mine, just a guy I got along with and had gone to school with since Kindergarden. But for some reason I told him I had a crush on Tiffany - probably because we all sat together in that class. Well one day, right before art class, Justin came up to me and said "Hey man, remember in elementary school when I had a crush on 'Sarah' and you told her that I liked her?" "Uh, no." "Well, you did, and now I'm gonna get my revenge and tell Tiffany, and the entire school you like her." "Oh boy, please don't." He did. As soon as we sat down in art class he said, "Hey Tiffany, George has a huge crush on you." Ughhhhhh. She asked me if it was true, and I didn't respond, which made the answer obvious. I was too busy threatening Justing about how I was gonna beat his ass after school. Then the bell rings and he literally goes down the hall grabbing everyone who passes by and tells them that I have a crush on Tiffany. Points me out and says "Him! He's George, and he loves her, Tiffany!" Then just runs up and down the halls yelling it as loud as he can and pointing me out the entire time. He pretty much let the whole fucking school know. What the fuck is this kid doing? Nobody cared who I liked. I wasn't a particularly notable or popular person in middle school. Most everyone knew and liked me, but that's because I was just the nice, well mannered kid who all the teachers liked, but I wasn't a suck up or anything. Pretty much the anonymous kid. I was known, but not cared about, but not disliked. What was the point of all this? Anyway, it was ridiculously emberassing. Tiffany and I never really had the same friendship through middle school anymore, and the rest of the year in art class was kind of awkward for everyone. That fuckface didn't really think it all through. He and I never talked to each other again. Surprisingly there was no animosity between us, we just didn't really go out of our way to hang out. I ended up going to a private high school, and didn't see either of them anymore after 8th grade. Looking back on it, I'm pretty sure I had a chance w/ her, but I didn't really have the confidence to pursue it after the emberassing manner in which it was made public. Fast forward to present day. Tiffany and I are now part of the same extended social group. We occasionally see each other, and she's a real cool chick. She ended up playing soccer at VT and is pretty successful. My girlfriend now is way hotter than she is. So...that has nothing to do with anything, but don't think I wasn't going to mention it. This time last year I was celebrating the newly arrived warm weather, driving around pretty hammered after a Sunday afternoon on the beach when I got pulled over by a cop. Fuck. This is it. DUI. Who was the cop?? Mother fuckin' Justin. Hell yea. We shot the shit for about 15 minutes, agreed we needed to meet up for a beer soon, and he sent me on my way. We became facebook friends, and that's the last I've heard from or seen him since. I haven't brought up the incident with either one of them. Even my drunken logic is aware that it's a bad idea. Either they wouldn't remember, and I'd look like an idiot for bringing it up. Or they wouldn't remember...and I'd look like an idiot for bringing it up.
I can't be the only one that suffered from "Summer Break Poop Syndrome." To be clear, this is when you get into a fixed pooping schedule all summer break. Then, on the first day of school, you're suddenly jolted out of your comfortable routine. The first day of high school was the worst. I'd been shitting regularly all summer at 12:30. Come 12:30 first day of school, and I'm in the middle of class, clenching my butt cheeks together with every ounce of willpower I had. I made it through that class, then decided I might as well hold out for one more period, since no one likes shitting in school. Big mistake. For that entire class period my sphincter was assaulted with waves of pain. We were playing that stupid fucking "name-game" where you say everyone's name in succession, and I couldn't concentrate at all because all my energy was diverted to not pooping my pants. Eventually my stomach started making weird animal-mating call like noises so I asked the teacher if I could go to the bathroom. "Can't it wait?" she said. "We're playing the name game." "No, it can't wait." I said, squirming in my seat from another wave of butt-contractions. "Ok, well why don't you just tell everyone your name now so we don't leave you out." "Nate." I said, then jolted to the bathroom. I'll spare you the details, but this was one of the most forcefully propelled, high volume shits of my life. When I came back twenty minutes later and class was nearly over, it was pretty obvious what I'd been doing. This is exactly the impression I wanted to make on the first day of school: Nate, the kid who takes twenty minute shits.
We had a cryer named Ted in our school. In fifth grade we had band class before school started and had to wait in the gym after it was over and before school began. My buddy and I yoinked his Goosebumps from him and played a little keep away until he tried kicking at us and somehow wound up kneeing himself in the face. That started up his water works. Through out middle school most kids would try and get him to cry. It's kind of sad how much we all preyed on the weaker kids. By high school he grew out of that and he became just another random kid like the rest of us. As for me my most embarrassing moments came at the hands of one of my best friends. Through out the years we've gone back and forth and I can't remember what I did specifically to get him back from these two. The first was really my fault to begin with. In seventh grade english the teacher would start each day with a paragraph written on the board. It was usually topical to current events and had nothing to do with english. One day she wrote something out and from one line to the next she had broken a word up at the end of the line and the start of the next. Except she didn't put the little dash that you normally do. I didn't realize this and thought she had blatantly misspelled a word. This paragraph was already on the board when we all had arrived and before she got into the room I went to the board and drew and arrow at the word and wrote "Nise Speeling." Intentionally misspelling my note to her to add to the comedic effect. She saw it as soon as she came in and was confused and angry about it and started questioning who had done it. I realized immediately that I had fucked up and my friend saw my wincing reaction. He then raises his hand and narcs me out and she proceeded to read to me out loud why nothing was wrong with the spelling. I was as red in the face as they come. The second is a similar incident with the same friend and same teacher. Him and I had been playing some sort of game where the loser had to take slaps from a ruler. After losing a few times in a row I snagged the ruler from him and snapped it in half. I put it back in the pile of rulers and not ten minutes later the teacher is again question the class on who broke the ruler. Once again he narcs me out to see my squirm. He had an older sister but she was married with kids before we reached puberty. Her kids are pretty hot for 15 year olds. I might try banging them when they reach legal age. Just to show him! edit: Just remembered my first grade incident. My mom would drop my off at a neighbors house each morning and she would take me and her daughter to the bus stop. One day the mom drove us down to the stop too late and just drove us to school. As we were walking up the sidewalk in the schools parking lot our bus pulled up next to us to let everyone off. The bus driver seeing us says, "Hey you two trying to play hookie or something!?!" I didn't know what hookie meant but it sounded like hooker and I knew that was a bad word because it had to do with sex. Everyone on the bus howled with laughter. I felt a huge pit in my stomach even at that young of age. Im guessing a psychologist would have a lot to say about that incident and my problems with confidence. I never got the bus driver back, hell she was a bus driver, not like it gets much worse than that.
Back when I was in the fourth grade, I went to a small catholic school. Our teachers were fond of using the students as messengers, and one day my little sister( who was in second grade at the time) came in to give something to my teacher. Completely out of the blue, my sister came up with this little gem "my brother plays with my dolls" This was, of course, a complete fabrication, I had never done any such thing. However, this was not apparent to the rest of my peers and I was mercilessly berated by every single one of those assholes. I mean it was bad, real bad. Even before this incident, I was a very shy kid who wasn't getting a great deal of respect from the other kids. I was continually ripped on for the rest of the school year. A few years later, if it was ever brought up again to a Black Sheep Dog with more self confidence, I would just counter it with the story of how my sister shit her pants at deny. That usually got a few laughs.
I remember this one nasty little bitch at primary school called Tania and we all used to have these massive sandpits out the back next to the rugby fields we would play in when we were about 7 or 8. One day I get called into the principals office and he starts hacking on me about this chicks jandal saying something about how I've gone and buried it under the sandpit as deep as I can and she can't find it. He was getting into me for about half an hour and the conversation ended with something along the lines of parents would be called in because hers were not happy with what I had supposedly done. Parents get called and lucky me it was my old man who got the call, he sides straight with everyone else so there I was no idea what had even happened before it started and absolutely zero chance of getting out of it. Spent a afternoon straight after school finished digging up the sandpit looking for this jandal that probably cost fuck all with my old man watching then getting an absolute hiding when I got home. Found out a few weeks later from a mate that this bitch had been bragging about burying it herself, incidentally she was also the person who gave me the nickname that stuck with me throughout primary school and I'm still known by to a few mates I catch up with from around that area.
My sinuses have never been particularly co-operative at the best of times. They can go from clear to clogged in a fraction of a second. Until the following happened, it had always been bearable though slightly annoying. In grade 10 accounting, I was sitting in the front row right in front of the teacher. My nose was stuffy, but it wasn't completely blocked. It wasn't irritated by anything that I can remember. The teacher had just turned around from the board to address the class and I sneezed. You know those dainty little sneezes that women do? I don't sneeze like that. Mine are full body, full lung affairs. The whole class went dead silent and the teacher stared goggle eyed at the thick ropes of snot connecting my nose to the desk. If I hadn't had the presence of mind to put my hand over my nose, she would have been covered. In muttered embarrassment, and speaking as you only can with copious amounts of mucus stuck to your top lip, I begged some tissues off anyone in the class who had some. It took about half a dozen to clean up the mess. Thankfully no one ever mentioned the incident. From that day, I have never gone anywhere outside the house without a handkerchief or at least some tissues on my person.
Jandal is New Zealand slang for flip flops; what Aussies call thongs. It's a contraction of "Japanese riding sandal".
I haven't had anything too embarrassing happen. I cried in the second grade because I didn't receive a hand out. I got a detention in 3rd grade for putting a brush into some paint without cleaning it first (that teacher was a cunt) and shed a few tears, and I probably slipped/dropped shit and all that standard stuff. The following, I can only wish happened to me, because I would be slapping 5 all day long and probably earn a trophy. Sadly, it happened to a really shy and weird, pudgy kid who would read sci-fi books and stare at girls' legs for several minutes at a time. So, here we are, sitting in sophomore year history class in high school, watching a fucking video about the holocaust. What does this silly bastard do? Sneezes and farts simultaneously. I about lost it, but had to put my head down and silently laugh/convulse as to not seem like a dick for laughing during a holocaust video. I had a few friends in that class that were doing the same thing, and we still talk about this incident to this day, even though it's been 6 years. No one gave him shit, because we weren't total dicks, but that story is the stuff of legends. edit: Oh fuck, I forgot about the time I shit my pants. Woops! I had eaten I believe Panda Express for dinner, and then we went to the mall. 5 of us dude friends, just hangin out. Then one of those dicks suggested getting Cinnabon. I wolfed the whole thing down, and have never felt that full in my life before. Sure enough, on the drive home, something starts a-brewin' in my stomach. It grows and grows until I am literally sweating, clenching my butt cheeks like a homophobe during his first prison shower. I guess I should have been doing kegels or whatever, (or is that for vaginas only?) because the dam burst and warm soft-serve-resembling turds reared its ugly head. I screamed at the driver to pull over on the shoulder, and sprinted off in the distance yelling "dudes, I think I shit myself!". 90% of it came out after I had dropped trou, so it wasn't a messy clean up, though I did have to throw those boxers out. Eventually, one of my friends spilled the beans, but I took it like a man and took on full responsibility and humility. Also this was later in high school, at a point where I had friends shitting themselves while black-out drunk here and there, so it wasn't too big of a deal. I haven't eaten cinnabon since.
In 2nd grade my teacher had a rule that you could not, under any circumstances, leave your desk unless you had permission. My seat was in the back of the room next to the bathroom and one day I had to take a piss. Instead of just getting up and walking the 3 feet to the bathroom as would be appropriate in 99% of social situations, I followed the rules and raised my hand and waited to get called on. I'm not sure what exactly was going on in the classroom that day, but I distinctly remember having my hand up for at least 15 minutes. It started as a slight urge to piss. Then I was tapping my foot. Then I started shaking my legs. Eventually I was sweating bullets and bouncing my whole body. In a final ditch effort to abide by the rules, I stretched my whole body out to take pressure off my bladder while I instinctually hummed a guttural noise to myself. A couple seconds later I was full on pissing myself. As soon as the flow started I bolted to the bathroom but by then the damage was done. Half of my bladder emptied into my jeans before I was able to finish in the toilet. I was lucky because for some reason it was cold in the classroom that day and a lot of people were wearing jackets. When I came out of the bathroom I simply wrapped my jacket around my waist to cover up the basketball sized spot on my jeans that was darker than normal. The rest of the day I would hear kids ask "what's that smell?" to other kids, but I don't think anyone knew what happened. I'd gladly take being the stinky kid for a day than being the kid that pissed himself.
How nice for you. I, on the other hand, spent much of my younger years in my own little world, and therefore oblivious to my appearance to those around me. By far the most embarassing episode was the time in 7th grade when my language arts class was in the school library to watch a shuttle launch on TV. There was a statue of a Greek athlete, nude, on the windowsill. Naturally, or unnaturally, the first thing that popped into my head was "i wonder if they sculpted a wang onto him?" So I went over to check it out. They hadn't, but his ass cheeks were rendered in great detail, and even spread slightly, so my inquiring mind wondered next "did they sculpt on an asshole?" So, curious, and unaware that a couple of kids had noticed me studying this statue and wandered over, I lowered my head to windowsill level and tried to look up the statue's ass to assess the level of detail the sculptor had imparted to his creation. Nope, no asshole - but a couple of classmates with their jaws on the ground asking me "What the fuck are you DOING!?" I have no idea why this little story didn't make the rounds, but aside from some thinly veiled remarks about my sexuality the next day i never heard about it again.
What happens to most people when they have to take a shit? They find the nearest semi-clean bathroom and take care of business, right? Not me. Not for 21 years. I can only shit at home, and then only when there are a maximum of 2 people around. Let me tell you why this happened (cue blurry fadeout). When I was in kindergarten I noticed I had to take a shit. Being the good little boy I was I raised my hand, got my hall pass and toddled my way down to the bathroom. As I'm sitting there making chocolate I hear the door open and several guys come in. I realize this is awkward and try to keep my breathing as inaudible as possible, but... well you know. The next thing I know there are three 7th graders opening the stall door to see what's going on (it's public school. of course there were no fucking locks on the stalls). One of them happens to be a mutated 6 foot ginger named Blayze. He spends a couple minutes ridiculing me while I ask him politely to go away (which is exactly how my psychologist parents told me to deal with confrontations. I now know better). Eventually he leaves and my butt stops making a fist, but ever since I have been struck with intense anxiety whenever I have to shit in a public place. I sweat, it takes forever for me to loosen up, and I jump at the slightest noise outside. Later I became friends by proxy with his younger sister (dating a friend). I found out that he did not graduate high school and got busted for coke distribution and burglary, so while I didn't get my revenge, it seems that karma fucked his ass up for me. seriously, fuck that guy.
In middle school the first class of our day was a half hour long deal that was essentially filled up with school announcements and a stupid little exercise or two which served no real academic purpose so we essentially used it to hang out and talk about whatever it is that middle school kids talk about. One day in seventh grade as we are sitting and talking I'm sort of feeling around my mouth since I had just had an orthodontist's appointment the previous day and my braces had just been adjusted. In the process of doing that I noticed the back left side of my braces had a little more wire than usual sticking out of the end, which was kind of annoying as it would poke my gums. As I felt around with my tongue and thinking that I could probably use this to get out of school for a bit to get it fixed later in the week my tongue suddenly was stuck on that extra piece of wire. At first I thought nothing of it, but I started to get nervous as I realize I couldn't get it off. I spent about another five minutes trying to maneuver my tongue off of that piece of wire but it just wasn't going to happen. I silently excused myself from the conversation and went up to the teacher. I don't know if you've ever tried to talk with your tongue stuck in the back corner of your mouth, but its pretty much impossible, so it took me around 15 minutes to explain to my teacher (who I hated) what was going on and finally convinced him I needed to go to the office and call my mom. Once I got to the office I had to explain to the secretary what was going on, but she could not grasp what had happened. I finally had to write a note explaining and asking her to call my mom and have her come in. Then I had to sit in the office for 20 minutes while my mom drove in as people I knew walked in and tried to say hi to me. I eventually just started showing people the note, which was horribly embarrassing. Worst yet was when my mom got there and tried to pull my tongue off this piece of wire in front of everyone in the office for about 10 minutes before conceding defeat and driving me to the orthodontist to get it taken care of. No one ever gave me too much shit about it, but at the time it was horrifically embarrassing and a few of my friends still bring it up from time to time to this day. One of my friends had a worse time, he was on the bus on the way home when he realized he had to take a shit. Bad. But he had about 30 minutes left on the ride home. He spent the whole time shifting and clenching and holding it in as best he could. By his own description he was on the verge of losing it by the time he made it to his stop. He sort of waddled down the aisle of the bus and managed to make it down the steps to the road, but at that point he realized he had to go for it or he had no chance of making it to a bathroom. As soon as he hit the street he broke into a dead sprint towards his house while still trying to hold it in, resulting in a hilarious skipping run that left those of us still on the bus who knew what was going on rolling in laughter. The last we saw of him he was opening the door of the house as the bus pulled away. The next day as he got on the bus we were all looking at him, expecting a resolution to the story, wondering if he made it or not. The only thing he could say was "It was in my shoe by the time I made it to the bathroom." We were nice enough not to spread that story around the school, but it got brought up every time my group of friends hung out for a six months after that.