Three Embarrassments

Lately I seem to be accumulating embarrassments, so I thought I’d share three good ones with you. I’ll be driving about 13 hours east tomorrow, so I’m hoping someone else can drive the responses on the comments board. Can someone please adapt my humor, wit, and charm? Thanks!

The Vacuum. I’m leaving town, so I thought it prudent to vacuum my room before I left. (Also, sidenote: I never like to blog when I’m going out of town in case any of my readers are also robbers and want to break into my condo while I’m away. However, my roommate is staying here while I’m gone, so you’re in for a big, burly surprise if you try anything.) I started vacuuming my carpet with my $70 vacuum cleaner, and nothing’s getting sucked up into the tube. I keep going over the same spots. Nothing. I clear a cat’s worth of hair off the brush. Nothing. I empty the container. Nothing. So I eventually I just resign myself to barely cleaning the carpet, which I spent the next 15 minutes doing.

As I’m putting away the vacuum cleaner, I happen to glance down and notice that I had it set to “hose” the entire time. I’m sure I’m not the first person in the history of time to do this, but I felt like a fool. And I realized that I hadn’t actually vacuumed anything in my room–I just thought I had. So I had to redo the whole thing, with my cat watching petrified from the hallway.

The Wave. On Saturday night, I hung out at a friend’s house to watch the Saints game. They were going to a club after the game, and I, being lame, went home. As I opened the door to my car, my friends drove past, and I waved somewhat gleefully to send them off.

Then, two seconds later, my friends actually drove by.

Yep, I waved with enthusiasm at some stranger’s car. That same person promptly parked on the same street and then looked in my windows as I drove by. She was pretty cute, though, so I consider it a win. I’m never that bold when I’m actually meeting a cute woman–maybe I should just pretend they’re all my friends.

The Pregnancy. I learned today that two married friends of mine–I’ll call them Matt and Kim to protect their identities–are expecting a child. So I wrote them a congratulatory e-mail, subject line, “You’re Pregnant!”

I was a way from my computer, and when I came back, I had e-mails from Matt and Kim…but not Kim’s husband Matt. A different Matt. Yes, I let gmail autofill the wrong Matt into the “To” box. So the wrong Matt wrote that he was pretty sure he wasn’t the father, and Kim wrote that she’d have to get a DNA test before she could confirm anything, and I have yet to hear from the real Matt, who was CCed on the chain after the original e-mail.

Hopefully you can learn from my shortcomings and avoid these mistakes. Or you could share your embarrassing stories of late below. You won’t get comment responses from me, so just imagine me thanking you for your comment, sprinkling in a few LOLs and smiley faces, and then making insightful remarks about the future of embarrassments.

No Responses to “Three Embarrassments”

  1. Lauren says:

    Well, I’m pretty sure that no one can hold a candle to your comment moderation skills – so forget that.

    “Then, two seconds later, my friends actually drove by” ’bout knocked me off the sofa!

    I just shared a pretty embarrassing moment on Twitter. I’ve been known to use the F-bomb. Especially when I’m drinking. Especially, especially when I’m drinking and a little nervous. I make no apologies for my F-bomb droppage. I’m a grown up and I can F if I want to.

    But I pulled out the big guns during my visit with Jamey on Saturday. I used the C-bomb. Yes, it’s the one you’re thinking of. And I forgot ALL ABOUT IT until Jamey so kindly reminded me this evening. You could hear a pin drop in that wine-cellar-meets-dark-trendy-lounge when that word came out of my mouth. Jamey and Doug both looked at me with their chins on their laps, and I might have died — if it wasn’t SO DARN true about that C!

    • T-Mac says:

      Wow–based on your blog and your cute comments about your little boy, I just can’t image profane things coming out of your mouth!

    • Neeraja says:

      I don’t apologize for my F bomb ways either, Lauren. You drop that bomb and you drop it proud ๐Ÿ™‚

      • Lauren says:

        Love it, Neeraja! We should start our own little F-bomb pride group. Consider this: Smokers offend people all day long with their smelly polution (sorry if you are one – stay with me here – I’m making a point). They, like us, make no apologies for their habit. Yet they get to take smoke breaks at work as a reward for their offensive behavior. I say was start taking F breaks. What do you say? Will you join my revolution? PEOPLE FOR THE FAIR TREATMENT OF F’ers!

        • Gab says:

          I agree with the idea that people should just quit complaining about Fs and Cs and all those other awesome words we say. I am a prolific user of almost all the good words out there and often get cold stares from parents if I am out and use the ole F-bomb. Its ridiculous. Either they already have heard it, so no problem, or they ask their parents what it means and they are getting a vocabulary lesson. in about 10 years I expect an influx of thank you cards from kids who just aced the SAT verbal

  2. T-Mac says:

    I know this is totally off topic, and the rest of the commenting universe can feel free to avoid my detour, but when you hear that Matt & Kim are having a baby, does anyone else immediately picture Matt & Kim doing it? I CAN’T HELP IT. It happens every time. Then I start thinking, “I wonder if Matt & Kim are actually any good in the sack?” (and the questions just keep rolling through my head).

    Jamey, thanks to the anonymity of this post, I’ve been picturing all of our couple friends getting it on for the last 15 minutes.

    • Neeraja says:

      More than that, I’ve been running through all your married friends and wondering WHO IS PREGNANT!?!

      I know it’s none of my business. But I’m just so curious.

      • T-Mac says:

        Well Neeraja, I guess I’m ruling you out, unless this is an elaborate ruse to throw me off the trail. I apologize for unnecessarily picturing you and your boyfriend knocking boots (literally, in this visualization, you were wearing hiking boots and Tim was wearing galoshes).

  3. Josh says:

    Freshman year of high school I went to a surprise party one Friday night. Unfortunately, the party was Saturday. Imagine my surprise. Also imagine my embarrassment when, since being 14 and having had my mother drop me off, his mother had to drive me home, hiding me underneath the dashboard and out of sight.

    • Neeraja says:

      Oh my God. In the eighth grade, my friend Jennifer called and invited me to a sleepover. I had my mom drive me all the way to Jennifer’s house, only to find out from the house-sitters that Jennifer was out of town. Completely confused, my mom and I drove home. And then I got a call from Jennifer. The OTHER Jennifer. I hadn’t realized that the Jennifer that had invited me to a sleepover was Jennifer H, not Jennifer C.

      So humiliating.

  4. Such active comments today while I was driving–I love it. I’m not going to respond to everything because it looks like you all had a good conversation without me (do you even need me?!), but I loved these embarrassing stories (Josh, Lauren, Neeraja–they all made me laugh), and I like the commentary from Gab, Lauren, and Neeraja on the F-bomb. Gab, don’t expect to get those thank you notes, but you never know. And Lauren, although I’m not an F-bomb dropper, may I serve on the advisory board for the revolution committee?

    Oh, and Trev, I definitely know what you’re talking about. I have to restrain myself from writing such thoughts when I reply to serious e-mails, but the comments board is fair game!

  5. Christa says:

    Kids provide for some of the best embarrassing moments. I like to refer to them as blackmail moments for when they become adults. I assure my kids I’ll only announce them at innocuous places, like their weddings.

    My daughter has had some wonderful ‘blond moments’ if you’d like to read. Here’s a link: My favorite was when she was driving the car.

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