My Most Embarrassing Moments
How we learn from experiences that make us blush.
The moment you realize you’ve done something extremely stupid is the loneliest moment imaginable. There is no one with you, there is no one on your side, there is no one who wants to associate with you. Yet, all eyes are on you. Everybody saw you doing stupid. There is nowhere to hide, however much you’d like the world to swallow you. Whether it is true or not, that’s how you feel.
It was the first day of my matric year. the front tire on my bike was a little deflated. Not completely flat, but I had to pump it before I could take the three-kilometer ride to school. I was early, enthusiastic to start my last school year, so, no problem with the tire. Quick to pump, I loaded my bag on the carrier and off I went.
Reaching the school without another incident, I locked my bike, grabbed my bag and went to the courtyard where all my friends were catching up on life, swapping holiday stories. My best friend was not there yet and I decided to wait for her while all the others strolled in the direction of the school hall. When the bell rang, I gave up and dashed to the door, just to hit something solid blocking my way.
I looked up at a vaguely familiar face. When the recognition hit me, I yelled loud enough for the whole school to hear:
“Hello Wol…” and shut up when he frowned at me and shook his head. To make it worse, I started giggling. Three years of childhood memories flooded my mind. This person, Big Brother’s best schoolmate, was now towering over me with a disapproving glare in his eyes before he turned his back to me and climbed the steps onto the stage where all the new, young teachers were waiting for the schoolmaster to introduce them to the learners
Big Brother’s best friend was now a teacher at my school and had to be addressed as Sir. In my mind, I still called him by his old school nickname of Wolfy, (short for some German name), but whenever I walked past him at school, it was Good morning Sir. And then I giggled. Every time. Because, among many incidents, I remembered the red spot on his cheek where I hit him with an overripe berry from a peashooter.
Lesson: don’t apply for a teaching position in the school where your old school pal’s baby sister was a learner.
Compared to what happened in the following years, this embarrassment is a minor, soon-to-be-forgotten.
Although I didn’t study art, I was a casual enthusiast, amateur painter and sketcher. So, when I saw on a notice board an advertisement for the Artists Association monthly meeting, I immediately decided I had to attend and join in. In a notebook, I jotted down the date and time for the meeting before rushing to the next lecture.
Later in the day I looked for my notebook but could not find it. That evening I wanted to make a note on my calendar so that I would not forget about the Artists Association’s meeting. My notebook was still missing. Good thing I lived in a dorm. The girl in the room next to mine was a senior and always willing to help with info or advice on campus life. Upon enquiring from her, she told me she didn’t know anything about it, but that she’d find out and let me know the time and date for the meeting.
Half an hour later my neighbour knocked on my door with a page from a booklet with the time and date and place of the meeting I had asked her about. Her boyfriend had a friend who attended the meetings regularly, so he knew the answer without having to check it.
Marking it on my calendar, something bothered me. The date did not seem to be the one I thought I remembered. Well, never mind, I thought. If I had remembered correctly, I wouldn’t have had to ask. I also didn’t remember the meeting to be in the evening, but I could spend time in the library while waiting for the meeting to start. The venue was off campus, but close enough to walk.
Two nights later I entered a small room in a building three minutes walk from the library. There were chairs arranged in a half-circle and most were occupied. Saying hi to everyone, I seated myself just left off centre. None of the attendees looked like students and I began to feel uncomfortable. However, always the optimist, I took a deep breath and decided I’d make the best of whatever the situation was. And then introductions were made.
All around the circle, the attendees introduced themselves:
“I am Amy and I am an alcoholic”.
“My name is Sean and I am an alcoholic”. And so it went. When my turn came, I boldly declared:
“I am Magdel and I am an artist”.
“Are you an alcoholic?”
“No, absolutely not. I never touch alcohol”.
“Why are you here?”
“As I said, I am an artist and I’d like to join the Artists Association.”
“Err, Magdel, this is not an Artists Association meeting. It is an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting”. Earth, open up and swallow me, please.
Lesson: Check your facts.
About a year later, I had the same thoughts about the earth opening up.
It was late afternoon. There were three people in front of me waiting at the bus stop. They were together and talking to each other to pass the time. I was standing a meter or two away. When the bus came to a stop they bundled together to get in as soon as those who were getting out, have cleared the door of the bus. Those three were already punching their tickets when it happened. I was still on the sidewalk, just about to climb in when a middle-aged, man stumbled out of the bus, grabbed me in a bearhug, singing at full volume:
“Dein ist mein ganzes Hertz” the smell of wine overwhelming from his wide open mouth. Then he dropped his arms and stumbled along the sidewalk in the direction from where the bus came. I was stunned. It was when I heard giggling from the inside of the bus, that I realized I’d better get in and punch my ticket or wait for the next bus.
Lesson: Stay in the bundle at the bus stop.
The last and perhaps worst of my embarrassing moments during my student years, at least those I remember, happened in class. I studied languages and Literature Science. One of many young lecturers taught one module for only a quarter but he loved to tell stories instead of lecturing. (Despite this, I can’t recall any student failing his class).
A decade or so later he became quite famous. He published many humorous short stories and took part as a co-host in a talk and storytelling show on national TV. But in my student years, he was just a lecturer with a healthy sense of humor and a strange regional accent.
We loved to attend his classes, mainly for the next interesting story. But time passed and a scheduled test had to be written. Two weeks after the test, we all looked forward to getting our results. This lecturer, like many others, called each student by name and handed over the marked test paper. My turn came. Handing over my paper, he looked intently into my eyes and said loudly enough for all to hear:
“Miss Beauchamp, you look exactly like a girlfriend I had years ago”. My oh my. How was I to react, other than grabbing my paper, jogging up the aisle and sinking into my seat as low as possible?
Lesson: Wear heavy makeup when your lecturer is a country boy who likes simplicity.
Now, years later and many more incidents that I wish I could change, I am still learning from the things I do wrong, things I say that I shouldn’t say, or at least use a different tone of voice, just to end up apologising later. Like this morning. I am neither a computer expert nor an internet expert. But my husband doesn’t know ten per cent of the little I know. My computer is old, our internet is unreliable and I get easily agitated when I try to do something but nothing seems to work.
After hours of fruitless struggling, I threw my hands in the air and told Hubs I give up. Of course always willing to help, he told me to make coffee while he had a go at it. At what I didn’t know because he didn’t even know what I was trying to do. I rolled my eyes and gave him a nasty answer. But I did make the coffee.
When I put the coffee down he said: “Is this what you wanted?” I was ready with another sarcastic answer but quickly swallowed my words. Egg on my face once more. In a few minutes, he got what I was looking for. I asked him where he found it. Shrugging he said he had no idea. He just played around, clicking here and there, and stumbled upon something by accident.
Lesson: Don’t compare a lack of knowledge to a lack of wide thinking.
My next post might be about the things I am thankful for. Until then, feel free to visit me at Author Masterminds.com