I'm going to guess the most embarrassed I've ever been (because I still remember it 30+ years later, albeit probably as a screen memory) was when I was five and walked up to Becky Something-or-other to start a doubtless fascinating conversation and suddenly realized I looked like I was in line for the girls' bathroom. Ok, I am not trying very hard to think of more current examples.
To properly assess the Judge Ito story one needs to understand visual characteristics of the underwear and its state of cleanliness. Not that I'm interested in such a discussion (and I infer from your attitude that the relevant factor was the mere fact of the underwear being underwear rather than any secondary characteristics), but just saying.
I will always be grateful that the underwear itself was completely unstained and unremarkable. I think it was light pink cotton.
I sort of half-ass planned an after-event party in high school and two people came. I at least drove them to the real after-event party.
Actually, they weren't cotton. They were that flimsy nylon material that cheap nighties from the 70s and 80s were made of. It looks viscous and silky, but is actually sort of rough to the touch.
4: My girlfriend at the time (who participated in the school event) did not even come to the my "party". Competent hosting/entertaining remains outside of my skill set to this day. Nor is it a strength of my wife; don't come to our house.
I feel like this is the "the worst thing
I've ever done was to deliberately kill a bug"* of most embarrassing thing ever stories. Hells no I'm not sharing.
*I may remember TFA incorrectly.
Had the first story happened to me I think I would have had to change schools. How was it when you returned to class?
It's probably pretty tame, in the grand scheme of things.
OTOH, lots of times embarrassment is self-inflicted. It's not that the actual event would be universally devastating to everyone, but it's got a specific chemistry tailored to your personal fears.
How was it when you returned to class?
I'm sure nobody forgot, but nobody referenced it overtly, either. I think we all just came in, sat down, and class continued. I think I participated a lot less for a few classes.
Possible excuses:
1. "Those aren't underpants, they're spats with attitude."
2. "You're not telling me you haven't heard of the second most famous exhibit in the case? 'If the pants don't fit, you must acquit'? Hello?"
I "threw" a party in my mid-30s to which I invited almost everyone I knew plausibly as a local friend or even friendly professional acquaintance. No one came, except one older relative. No friends at all. As in, I'd cooked food and put out drinks and not one person showed up, except one relative. That was way beyond embarrassment -- it was intense suicidal ideation. There's a difference between "kids are laughing at me" and "my entire life is an obvious failure."
I'm so sorry. That sounds completely awful.
12: That's rough. Did you ask any of the invitees about it afterwards? I can only imagine some sort of statistical fluke, where each person has a specific reason why it's inconvenient for them that night, and assumes that enough other people will turn up.
I've tried to invite people to parties a few times, and generally about 5% of the people commit to coming, and at least half of the people invited don't respond. End result, no socialization and I get depressed looking at my expertly decorated apartment which no one but family members will ever see. At least I don't bother to prepare for the party until it looks like there will be at least five people there, which is never.
I've had fiascoes sort of like that (although 12 is worse than anything that's ever actually happened, rather than just what I've feared). Megan's talked about this as a successful party thrower: that you have to invite people repeatedly, and remind them, and confirm that they're coming, and you still get about half of the people you invited. I think people like me and Presidential and Ned sort of mention that there's going to be a party, maybe, sort of, and don't do the follow-up.
Also, my experience of my early thirties involved going from being full of energy and wanting to go to parties, to being a parent and wanting to stay in.
I held my b-school graduation party at a bar (Chief Ike's for those of you in D.C.). I was confident that a lot of people would come, but probably 2 hours after it started. So I said I'd pay for drinks for the first hour. Whaddya know? Everyone showed up on time. (It was in a separate upstairs room, so the general public couldn't just wander in and get free drinks.)
It's not a tactic that everyone can afford, obviously. I did give the bartender a limit for the total tab, but we managed to stay under that.
It was a great party, too. With cake!
I threw a couple of fairly successful (by U of C standards) parties in college, but haven't really attempted since. Seems like organizing conferences or workshops is the same sort of thing, though. You tell people it's going to happen, then you invite them, then you remind them, then you tell them about the other awesome people who are coming, then you remind them again, and eventually things sort of work out. It takes a lot of harassment, though.
18: Maybe I will pull that trick next time I host a party at my place. "All drinks are on me for the first hour!"
I do think that a big difference between popular, outgoing people who don't have any trouble hosting events and the rest of us losers is about insecurity. Someone like me, I basically assume that very few people, given a choice, would want to be in a room with me. So to get me to show up for something, you pretty much have to mug me and drag me there -- otherwise I'll decide that no one really wants to see me and I might as well spare everyone the annoyance by continuing to hide under the bed, where I spend most Saturday nights. Same for throwing a party: I might mention it in passing, but I'm not going to remind anyone to show up because they didn't want to come anyway and why should I inflict my ghastly mockery of hors d'oeuvres and drinks on poor innocent people.
On the other hand, someone who's convinced that everyone's champing at the bit to spend time with them can nag and remind and reconfirm without feeling as if they're making a pathetic spectacle of themselves.
I have no solution, but I think this explains a lot of party failure.
It's a shame South Park wasn't around at the time, or you could have done a meme mashup:
1. Underpants.
2. ??????
3. Acquit!
21.1 is so me, except I would never think of throwing a party. I feel that way about, say, inviting people to go see a movie with me, or even calling them when they haven't called me.
I basically assume that very few people, given a choice, would want to be in a room with me
You know, LB, we've been meaning to talk to you about coming to meet-ups . . .
I would go to your party, LB. If it was, you know, held near me.
We do a lot more entertaining now than we used to. Dinner for 11 tomorrow night, for example. The most important thing is that we know a bunch of fun people. Next house I live in, though, is going to have a place for a bonfire.
Megan's talked about this as a successful party thrower: that you have to invite people repeatedly, and remind them, and confirm that they're coming, and you still get about half of the people you invited.
About four reminders per person. I expect a 20% acceptance rate for a popular party with a history (like the annual Pie Contest). I don't bother with RSVP's; they're never accurate, either way.
I'm not so outgoing that I expect that people want to spend time with me, but... I always try to co-host, so I can say, well, they want to spend time with the other cool person. And, I've got a good track record for food and drink, and people often want to be where the crowd is. Get the core of the crowd, and the party follows through.
Competent hosting/entertaining remains outside of my skill set to this day.
I wasn't thinking of it as a skill when I started doing it, but my parents threw three big (100+ people) parties a year, so I grew up knowing that people do that and also expecting the pre- and post-work. I've also always been interested in it. When I meet other party throwers, we talk about them. "It really worked to create an entrance space that helped people transition." "I keep a rack of silly clothes on hand for parties, so people can wear a boa." Over the years, I've collected several rules and proportions for foods. I always review every gatheringing I throw for a while afterwards (huh, people didn't touch the chips, but chowed on the tater tots. OK, next time. This time of year they seem to like the porch better than the kitchen. I should have more water available on the porch.).
After twenty years of this, it does turn into a skill.
Throwing parties no one shows up for sounds like no fun at all. Sorry to everyone that happened to. When I organize an unusually large birthday party this summer, I'll try to take some of the advice in this thread.
I'm pretty sure my most embarrassing story is pretty high up there, though. I've told this story before, but in pieces and in other contexts.
I pulled a hit-and-run and got caught. I wasn't thinking clearly about it right in the moment, I just thought, "uh oh, let's hope it's not that bad", hoped no one had noticed or recognized me if they did, and left. That might not be that embarrassing - hey, lots of teens have bad driving records - but there are at least two reasons this was particularly bad.
(1) It was just a boneheaded mistake. This wasn't a slippery road or a dog running into the street or something, I had just turned my wheels too far as I backed out of a parking space and hit the guy parked next to me. I could think of excuses like poor visibility or being unused to the car I was driving, but really, it's the kind of mistake no one would think of because it's so easy not to do: keep the wheels straight until you're clear, dumbass!
(2) This was the high school parking lot. It is right in front of the cafeteria. I did this during or shortly after lunch, probably on my way to an afternoon class or two at the community college. And apparently the accident was big enough to be audible or at least visible from the cafeteria, so almost literally the whole high school saw me hit the other guy's car and drive away.
When I got home several hours later my parents greeted me and clearly already knew about it. The principal had called them. The talk with them about it was really not fun. Nor was school the following few days.
Evite automates a fair number of those reminders, so you don't have to do them personally. (I don't love Evite in particular, but some software will bug people for you.) Even so, every time I saw someone I'd invited, I'd mention the party.
I don't mind doing that because I don't feel I'm pressuring them to spend time with me. I feel like I'm giving them an opportunity to be around other neato people that I've invited. I'm also letting them know they're wanted somewhere. I'll invite people I know can't make it, just because then they know they were included in my thoughts.
On the OP's most embarrassing experience bit, I'm pretty sure I've already related mine:
Our 7th grade English teacher had us reading aloud from time to time -- no warning, no opportunity to review the text, just start reading now -- and I came to "chihuahua" which I naturally pronounced "chi-hooah-hooah".
Stunned silence followed by lengthy guffaws. I've gotten over it, but I doubt I'll ever forget it. I can't really remember anything more downright embarrassing and red-faced in the moment. A complete bomb of a Halloween party, once, but I was pretty philosophical about that -- there were other parties that night, and we hadn't really tried that hard to promote it.
I had 12 happen to me and my now-wife when we tried to have a going-away party before leaving the area we'd lived in while she was in grad school. It's likely that a number of individual statistical flukes were involved, but part of the problem, in a sense, was that we had made so few friends out there that it was pretty easy for that to happen. It was traumatizing, but since nobody was there to see, it's hard to call it embarrassing. I don't think we tried to throw a party, or anything beyond inviting a specific person or couple over, for five years after that.
While waiting for the girl I was supposed to meet at a banquet I took a seat at an empty table, and then watched while the entire hall filled to capacity except for my table. Faced with slinking out and continuing to wait, I foolishly chose the latter. The girl never showed.
14, 30 et al. -- statistical flukes and not great planning played a role, but the biggest problem was a complete failure to acquire and maintain good friendships. Things are mostly better now, but I will never ever try a big party without a co-host again.
M/tch and I had a housewarming party that turned out to be a smashing success -- much better than I expected. Lots of people from different parts of our lives came, they mingled, they ate. We toyed with the idea of making it an annual thing, but I have resisted because I know it wouldn't be as good and possibly quite disappointing. People made a real effort to come because it was an Event and that wouldn't be the case next time around.
I forgot to express solidarity with the original post: that underpants in yesterday's jeans-leg thing happened to me repeatedly in the past. I never got embarrassingly busted so that I knew someone noticed as I recovered the underpants, but I came close enough to be horrified by the prospect.
18,33: It must be backwards day in Texas.
M/tch and Sir Kraab are coming to our big yearly party in a few weeks.
We're trying to figure out how we might rent paddleboats that people could use on the river, without risking the paddleboats disappearing downstream when people hop out to go to the playground on the far side.
The idea is that if people are drinking, they won't secure the boats properly? I don't think there's anything to do about it beyond exhortation to do whatever you're supposed to in order to keep them secure, and following boaters around to check on the boats.
HP 1 & HP 2 should be put on boat patrol. They've been freeloading for long enough.
Stormcrow, I assume you're trying to be insulting in 35, but it's kind of confusing. 18 didn't even take place in Texas.
Nevertheless, how dare you, sir!
Meanwhile, have people looked at the cake design linked in 18? Because it was super awesome. (It was printed on one of those sugar sheets and then laid over a sheet cake.)
39.1: Not really insulting, just half provocative, half asshole, half mocking, half ironic and half commenting Tourette's. I was merely struck that in a thread dedicated to embarrassing moments you had managed to instead post about two entirely successful examples of something which others had discussed failing at. And I further presumed that you were commenting from Texas today, and had not a thought as to where the parties themselves had taken place. That is all.
Now off to construct PowerPoint slides.
The idea is that if people are drinking, they won't secure the boats properly?
There's about 20 yards of woods separating us from the river, so it would mean stationing someone at the river, I think. I haven't figured out any way to do it that lets the boats be a self-regulating activity.
I'm not so worried about drunk people as kids - two eight year olds take the boat over to the playground, and don't cinch it up correctly on the far side, or something.
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This Obama Derrick Bell/Harvard video "scandal" is an absolutely fitting memorial to the legacy of Andrew Breitbart. It is beyond incredible in its lameness.
"That was the edited version, it did not show that you seconds later Barack Obama embraced Bell before turning the microphone over to the controversial professor," Hannity said.
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Hmm. I feel like many of my worst, most embarrassing moments have been kinda on a level with each other. There was the time in 2nd grade when I -- gasp! -- had not watched the Grammys the night before, and so did not get the teacher's reference to Men At Work. But, come on, the Grammys?
Also, my pants fell down once on the bus, as they were loose, and I was sucking in my gut so I could squeeze around people (who were deliberately blocking my path out of the bus through their own stupidity), but at least I was wearing boxer shorts and I managed to hike my pants back up in 2 seconds.
More recently, I misinterpreted some non-purpose flirting, flirted back with clear intent, and got shot down, but I blame the 7 drinks for that one. And what're ya gonna do, I mean, people are not always clear about their own motives in those contexts, so why would I be expected to know exactly what was going on? Also, I only embarrassed myself in front of the one person, albeit, it was someone who shares many close friends with me, so I don't know if word got around or not. Probably not.
I've thrown a few dud parties too, but I'm pretty philosophical about it. I mean, I flake out on stuff like that all the time, so why shouldn't other people?
I once organized an unfogged meetup at my place and no one showed up.
I do have the standard crush on a girl, told my friend, he told her when we were all in the library before chemistry, awkward subsequent class time.
I put glue on a caterpillar to see what would happen (it died a very distrubing death).
Our 7th grade English teacher had us reading aloud from time to time
In 9th grade we read Romeo and Juliette aloud. The teacher thought it would be funny to have the very uptight kid be Mercutio, so that happened. I got to read the phrase "bow-boy's butt shaft" in front of a room full of 9th graders. That was fun and a half.
(The teacher was actually great in a way because she was very enthusiastic about theater and took us to plays. Through her I know John Guare, so yay for that. On the other hand she said, about half in jest, "I know everyone talks about the language in Shakespeare but I really like the sword fights" and told me in as many words that I was a B student. Dear Mrs. Hill, I now write things for a living, so blow it out your bow-boy's butt shaft.)
Wait, does that make it sound like I know John Guare personally? I do not know John Guare personally.
Then there was the time as an adult when I posted about reading Romeo and Juliette aloud as a 9th grader.
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44: Self-quoting a pause/play comment is probably (and justifiably) bannable, but people really should take a look at this Obama college speech/hug "controversy", it is unbelievable even in the World of Unbelieve that is right-wing media.
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I saw that and could not imagine what on earth to say. I didn't know Prof. Bell well -- one seminar a decade ago -- but he was such a warm, friendly, decent guy. The idea that hugging him could be a scandal is just strange beyond words.
52: I forget exactly how Wingnut Collective Nouns work. Are two black guys together a "mugging" or a "riot"?
And if they're talking about getting more women and people of color on the Harvard Law faculty it's probably an "insurrection".
Are two black guys together a "mugging" or a "riot"?
It depends if there's also a white guy there or not.
12 sounds like the nightmare scenario obsessive fretting over which has always made throwing a party such an anxious experience for me. Actually having it happen... god, how awful. My sympathies.
THe other day I had lunch with a friend and a friend of his I'd never met before. As we were leaving I went down to the toilets, and the guy I'd not met before followed me down. As we were both pissing, I continued the conversation I'd been having with him. As I turned to go rinse my hands, I realized it was somebody else of roughly the same height and body shape. Ooops.
Heebie, your friend at 13 trying to spare you embarassment is really kind of awesome. Kids can be so great sometimes.
I second 58. That friend showed her worth; I hope you've had the opportunity to do good by her too.
when i was in college i had a huge crush on a girl down the hall. she had a boyfriend at home, of course, so i was left to be the Good Friend.
anyway, we were talking one night, sitting on opposite sides of the dorm hallway. i was sitting indian-style facing her and she was facing me. after about an hour, i looked down and noticed a hole in my sweatpants. right in the crotch seam. and then i noticed what was just barely poking out of that hole.
It.
It was poking out of that hole.
Oh no, cleek. It just wanted to say hi.
58, 59: She was a very kind, great person. They moved away during high school and we lost touch, though.
61.
thankfully she was gracious enough to not reply to It.
63: But what if replying to It involved her ripping her seam in solidarity?
I'm glad cleek posted 60, because now I feel perfectly fine about sharing this one.
This is light years from being in the 'most embarrassing' category but it involves that awful phenomenon of delayed embarrassment, wherein it only occurs to you significantly after the fact--when it's hopeless that you can ever make amends--that you've made a total jackass of yourself.
Depressingly many years ago I struck up the usual bored, pre-flight conversation with a youngish guy who, it turns out, was the son of a famous psychologist who worked on judgment and decision making. (The name is, I'm sure, known to everyone here.) Anyway, I reverted to fanboyish gushing and somehow managed to blurt out that he should be sure to tell his dad that his work was inspirational and that he was one of my intellectual heroes. I recall a distinct ringing sensation in the far reaches of my mind as the words left my mouth, but (as usual) the bells went off too late. He politely said he would, and then we boarded. Never talked to him again.
Obviously, as I was able to discover once I found internet access, his dad had in fact died several years earlier, a fact which I *knew perfectly well* but had just forgotten at the moment--that is, at the one moment when it would have saved me from making a total ass out of myself. Anyway, I'm grateful he reacted like a gentleman about it but I still can't think about that (probably) forgivable but not very classy episode without wincing.
It's okay to just say the famous guy's name.
Also I kept waiting for the part of your story where your wang fell out (of your Man Suit).
67: It's a little early in my commenting tenure here for me to be crossing the wang bar, but the night's still young.
Apropos of Megan's reminders concerning the importance of multiple invites for a gathering, perhaps the SF Meetup could be reposted to the top of the page, seeing as it's happening tomorrow...
OMG, you guys, the party failure thing above happened to me so many times in New York. I'd invite 135 people, and six of my friends, mostly you guys, would come. My roommates would invite 25, including people who don't even live on this side of the country, and they'd fly out for it.
One of the things I miss about Cleveland is there, people begged for invitations to our parties. We had legendary parties. Maybe it's that I'm old more than geographical problems.
70: Now I feel bad about not coming to that party you invited me to.
74: Now I feel about about not getting invitations! (Kidding.)
I really feel bad about my typos, though. SO EMBARRASSING.
I have pretty tragic embarrassments on a weekly or so basis, of course. If I don't humiliate myself in public regularly I get itchy and anxious. On Wednesday my favorite author came to visit my campus, and, five minutes before going to meet him, my mother called to say my grandmother died. I showed up a little thrown, and at dinner with him and all my colleagues I started going off about how deeply I admire this one colleague of mine for being so genuinely empathetic (about which she emailed me today to ask if I was making fun of her--no! I am for real!), and then I got kind of drunk before introducing said author in a way that made no sense, in front of all of my students and the entire department and literary community. It was very impressive. Way to go, Bear!
75: You just need to attend more meetups.
Sorry to hear about your grandmother, AWB.
And the Master of my undergraduate House did much worse things when drunk.
Thanks, BG. I sent a clarification email to the beloved colleague explaining the grandmother situation and the resultant awkwardness. The favorite author seems not to have been disturbed, other than he wanted some clarification about some of the things I said in my intro, to which I responded, dude, your book fuckin' did this and that so deal with it.
Yes, my sympathies about your grandmother.
60: this could actually be read as an admirably bold play to exit The Friend Zone.
I have lived long enough that I can no longer pick out particular humiliating episodes...it's all kind of blurred together. Life is very humbling.
Very sorry to hear about your grandmother.
Yes, condolences on the loss of your grandmother. I hope too it doesn't make it harder to deal with other awkward family members - loss diesn't always bring people closer.