I worked in a drug rehab with teenagers. Most of their joking was juvenile and perverse, but one day a patient told me a joke that was actually funny. I laughed so hard and couldn’t wait to tell my wife. I forgot about it for several hours until we were at a dinner party with about twenty people. Most of these people I knew but not all. After we ate everyone was sitting around kind of quietly in the living room. I decided to liven up the party with a couple jokes, so I told the one the patient had taught me earlier. The room went silent.
One friend spoke up with a gasp, “Micah?!”
“What?” I replied.
“Do you not realize what that…”
“Umm… does it… oh no!” I trailed off and tried to play it off by talking to my wife about it. I was innocent – not realizing it was a REALLY dirty joke. The problem is that the joke had already been told.
Micah the Admin
A few years ago my family was in Hong Kong. We had taken the metro from one side of town to the other, on our way to the mall. We were told that once we got off the metro we were to look for Hong Kong Station, go up an escalator, and then we’d be at the mall. We had been walking for a while with no luck. So I decided to ask for directions. I went up to a lady who worked there and said, ‘Excuse me, where’s Hong Kong?” She tried to keep a straight face, and my family started laughing at me. I quickly continued, “Station! Where’s Hong Kong Station!” I felt like a complete idiot and my family teased me the whole day. But, we did find Hong Kong Station!
Amelia – Brazil
When I was a teenager, I really wanted to jump off the Orford-Fairlee Bridge into the river, but my mother talked me out of it. ”It’s too high and you could break your neck,” she said. ”Besides, there could be old bridge posts you could land on.”
Shortly thereafter, I was just about to take a walk across the bridge when I saw about a dozen young (and handsome) guys standing on the other side of the rail, about to jump. Eager to save their lives, I began running as fast as I could, yelling: “Don’t jump! Don’t jump! You could die!”
They politely refrained from jumping until I reached them. Grinning, one of them asked me why he shouldn’t jump. I repeated what my mother had said. Trying valiantly not to laugh, the guys told me they’d already jumped off the bridge several times and it was perfectly safe. A hot blush flooded my face, but I tried to play it cool. ”Oh, carry on then,” I said. I was almost out of earshot when they burst into guffaws.
The moral of this story is: Don’t listen to your mother.
Rachel – NH
In second grade I was chosen by my friends as the leader of a few areas. Those of you who know me know that I am horrible at anything athletic, but this was before I got my belly. I was the fastest runner and chosen as the best artist. One day my friends decided to have a gorilla drawing contest. I wasn’t to compete. I would be the judge. Sheri and Ryan were the only ones who got close. They brought the papers to me, and I picked the one that was by far the best. “Ryan wins.” Sheri snapped back faster than lightning with a weepy voice, “You just picked his because I’m black!” I had never even thought of such a thing. We were in second grade. I was instantly struck with fear, embarrassment and a sense of injustice. So I replied with the best answer I could think of at the time. “No, I didn’t!” I think that was awkward for everyone in a five-feet radius.
When I was about six or seven I had a really good friend who lived across the street, he was the same age as me and had an older sister, about ten or eleven who really didn’t like me AT ALL. He was really sweet and always giving me flowers and gifts and things. One day we were playing in his back garden, his mum was there, his granny, a few family friends, his sister and us, he was like ‘I’m gonna get you something to eat’ it was a real sunny day and I wasn’t even hungry but he went into the kitchen and came back with a biscuit(they don’t make them anymore but they were called 5,4,3,2,1’s and they were like a wafer covered in chocolate with toffee inside. I didn’t even want it but he was pressing me to eat it so I scoffed it and was sitting there with melted chocolate on my fingers and the incriminating wrapper beside me on the grass when his sister came out of the kitchen, she let out this HUGE gasp, I mean like you would have thought someone had just sucker punched her and started hyperventilating, LITERALLY HYPERVENTILATING and started maniacally tearing at her hair, he and I were looking at her like, what the hell is wrong with her?! Then she started uncontrollably sobbing and screaming at the top of her voice….’She ate my 5,4,3,2,1,SHE ATE MY 5,4,3,2,1, SHE ATE MY 5,4,3,2,1!!!!!! AAAAAHHH MY 5,4,3,2,1!!!!!’ Her granny had to take her on her knee and rock her back and forth while she sobbed and screamed, while I was sitting there like some little scoff monster, with all the adults loudly whispering ‘What happened??’ ‘Oh she ate her 5,4,3,2,1′ and I didn’t even want the flipping 5,4,3,2,1 in the first place. Grrr. O_o
Tanya – Belfast
When I was about 19 I had just seen what I thought was a funny movie “Office Space.” A few months later I offered to bring a funny movie to watch at my former youth pastor’s house. So we all sit in the living room ready to watch the movie I’m sitting on the floor with someone else and the movie begins. Immediately I realize that I have forgotten that there is some questionable content in the movie and one scene in particular that made me want to melt into the floor, but does he turn it off and berate me for bringing this trash into his house…no….it continues playing and I am mortified I just wanted to disapear into the floor boards on which I was sitting. When the movie was over I apologized and made my hasty escape.
Leah – Somewhere
I was working the late shift at a restaurant in Longmont, Colorado for a time. One night, as I drove home from work, I observed a young woman standing by the road with her thumb up. I make it a habit to pick up hitch hikers when I get the chance because I have been helped with a ride plenty of times myself. Besides, it was near midnight and Longmont didn’t seem like a safe place for a young lady to be hitching at this time of night. Safer with me than some creeper I thought. Upon pulling over, the girl jumped into my truck, plopping down on the bench next to me. As I pulled away she promptly asked me…….”Do you party?” This wasn’t the usual “how far ya going?” I was used to, but, being a country boy from the sticks, I have seen my share of parties, so I replied,”… sometimes.” I confess, I was quite naive at the time so I was a little surprised by what she said next. ”How much money do you have?” My mind raced while I tried to decide if I was to be robbed or invited to a rave. ”Not much” I answered. ”I can work with anything you got” She quipped. Panic gripped me. My God, I thought, I’ve picked up a prostitute! I had to escape. ”I have a girlfriend” I lied. She gave me a disgusted look. ”Sorry” (awkward silence) ”So, where am I taking you?” ”Here’s fine,” she said, so I pulled over and out she jumped. I still get a kick out of seeing peoples faces when I tell them I picked up a prostitute once. At least it was good for that.
Mark – NH
For a while I was “giving” plasma on a regular basis. They “gave” me a monetary compensation for my generosity. In case that wasn’t subtle enough insert a wink wink. This was my only source of spending cash while we were in school so it was pretty important to me. One day I went up with a friend to donate, but I was taken into another room. This less than professional phlebotomist told me that I could no longer donate. My liver enzymes were elevated which meant I either had Hepatitis, over-exercised, drank too much or took too much herbal medicine. Yeah. Not me. They couldn’t have been bothered with calling me to save me the drive and slight embarrassment. I went to sit in the lobby and wait for my friend to be finished.
I decided to feel sorry for myself, so I got out my laptop, put my headphones in and started listening to some good emo music. About two sappy songs in an angry employee walked over to me. She looked like she wanted to hit me. I was confused. She said with the attitude of three thirteen year-old girls, “Sir, can you turn that down?!”
“What?” Oh! I realized that the headphones were plugged into the microphone slot. Why hadn’t anyone told me? I quickly apologized and tried to explain that it was a mistake. She cut me off with another disgustedly angry look and walked away leaving me to feel like the accidental jerk that I so often turn into.
I own a children’s clothing store. One day a mom kept sniffing around her toddler, and said the obvious thing, “I think you have a poopy diaper.” When she went to check this situation further, she discovered no poop was in the diaper. “Must have just been gas.” My next customer in that area of the store said, “There seems to be some poop or something under this rack.” Yep, there it was! Helpful tip: make sure your kid’s diapers are snug and secure before going out in public, because the alternative makes ME look bad.
Laurel – NH
One Christmas a friend of mine invited me to a Christmas party with a bunch of his friends, none of which I knew. He told me (and I quote), “We’re having a naughty Santa gift exchange, so bring something to give.” I’d never heard someone use that term before, but being a person of sub-par to average intelligence, I assumed that meant a white elephant gift exchange and didn’t ask any questions. No sweat. Just a brief perusal of my parents’ basement will bring me what I need. I found a statue of a cat laying down that was about a foot long. The cat was multi-colored with velvet like stuff on it to make it soft. In other words, it was really tacky, ugly and undesirable. I think my Grandma bought it at a thrift store. Anyways, I wrapped that as my gift. Upon arrival to the party, I set it lovingly beneath the bows of the Christmas tree and chuckled to myself at its inherently white elephant nature. The time came for us to open the gifts. Sweet. The first gift opened was a…..(drumroll) nice picture frame. Second gift…..(drumroll) nice set of Yankee candles. Third gift…..(drumroll)…………a…..a gross thrift store/basement stored/bizarre looking/tacky statue of a cat? That jerk totally lied to me! That was no “naughty Santa” or whatever the heck you want to call it gift exchange! I sat there completely degraded and humiliated in front of a bunch of strangers. The guy who opened the gift was very gracious though. I tried to explain myself, but he just kept on going on about how it was ok and he could put it on his porch or something woefully ridiculous like that. Whatever, man. Awkward!
I was newly married and didn’t know a whole lot about baking. I wanted to make a special cake to impress my husband for his birthday. So, I found an interesting recipe that called for coffee in the cake batter. I made the cake and it looked beautiful, we couldn’t wait to eat it! As my husband began eating his piece he wondered if it had a secret ingredient. I said, “Yes! It has coffee in the batter.” He said, “Are you sure it doesn’t have coconut or nuts in it?” I said, “No, just the coffee grounds.” He thought it was hysterical, because I was supposed to use instant coffee. I was mortified and embarrassed. The story has continued to be told all these many years later!
Jan – NM
When I was five years old my family was at church. I had been in Sunday school away from my mom for almost two hours and really missed her. I saw her standing against a wall talking to some other adults, and I did what any child would. I ran to her really fast and bear hugged her legs. Something seemed wrong. I looked up and some other woman was staring and smiling at me. This awkward and scary moment set my life on a course of perpetually causing similar situations. I can not forgive that woman…or maybe I have already.
I was a very naive nineteen-year-old, getting ready to go on a mission trip. My last Sunday in church, people were asking how they could pray for me. I got some diseases confused and told them to pray I didn’t catch anything from “tramping through gonorrhea-infested waters”, never dreaming that gonorrhea was an STD!
There comes a time in every child’s life when it’s time to cut the apron strings and buy your own Christmas cards. For me, that would have been about the time I was, say 14 or 15. Doesn’t really matter. Being the multi-tasker that I am, I picked my cards up one day while I was shopping at the mall. Spencer’s had some on sale. Cute little picture of two bears on the front. The inside said “It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.” Some of you may already have got the punch line. Just keep reading. The next weekend, I began to hand some of my Christmas cards out to a few friends at church. I may have even handed one to the pastor. I have tried to block that from my memory. By Wed., the pastor’s son, who was also a good friend a just a few years older, pulled me aside. Apparantly, the two cuddly bears weren’t as innocent as I thought. Just one of many of my awkward moments. My parents still screen my Christmas cards before I send them out.
Karen – FL
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I worked as a Customer Service Manager at Wal-Mart in New Hampshire for about a year. This required me to wear a bright red vest and stand at a podium in the front center of the store, so people thought I was an information booth. One day an old man who looked a lot like Mr. Rogers approached me. He looked me straight in the eye and asked, “Where can I get rubbers for men?”
I was twenty years old and instantly embarrassed. I composed myself and answered with a quiet voice, “Um…I think they’re in the pharmacy.”
He looked at me with horror in his eyes and exclaimed, “NOT THAT KIND OF RUBBER! They’re for your feet.”
Apparently “rubbers” is a local word for rain boots. This moment was beyond awkward for both of us, and the awkwardness reappeared every time this man came back to my small town Wal-Mart.
