My Five Most Embarrassing Moments

(stolen from a co-Bloggers blog unashamedly)


I worked for several years in a mobile phone shop and within those walls some of the funniest moments of my life took place. One involved myself – a customer came in with a so-so phone in okay nick, but it appeared to be broken. I took it downstairs to try a few different batteries in it (the common fault with this phone) but on the stairs I met my boss and a colleague. My boss was mopping the floor and I mentioned to hm that “the phone’s not broken…” as I idly tossed in up in the air much like I do with pretty much everything I own. I threw it up and lost contact, the phone thundering into the water and instantly being a goner. We doubled over with tearful laughter as I had to admit to the customer that we’d just broken it and gave her a full replacement.


One Hogmanay I was round at my exes with her family and her family friends. We were playing a game of Charades and Celebrities (or Who Am I, I can’t remember the name of the game, but it entails having to describe a celebrity to the group without saying their name) and I got Ally McCoist. At the time, there was some kerfuffle about an alleged affair and after the usual “footballer, rangers, goals” I finished it with “he’s a shagger”. Cue the room, startled, bursting out into fits of hysterical laughter and me never being allowed to forget that moment.


A long time ago, I used to be scared of being naked. I think it might have something to do with being a boy in school and puberty, and not really knowing if what you had was the right bits. Now a days, I don’t care and nudity is nothing to be worried about. The gym is like those school changing room days, but I pay £50 for the privilege. Once, as a Scout, after a swim at a camp we were getting changed in the pool area. We each had a cubicle and I was in on my own. I noticed, to my peril, that the lock wasn’t working very well and shrugged it off. To my horror, mid putting my pants on, the door swung open onto a family of three girls about my age at the time and their father. They saw everything.

The Red Mist

People who have only known me for the last few years won’t have seen the Red Mist come over me as I rarely have it happen, but during my teenage years I think it descended every month and was directed at someone – this particular time, my incredible rage was aimed at a friend that I effectively disowned afterwards. We were all at an activity centre for a mutual friends 18th birthday and arrived back at her house for some drinks and food. As we got out of the car my friend pulled out a Super Soaker and drenched the girls, one of which he was kind of seeing on and off. That was a big scandal at the time, actually (and an ex-girlfriend of mine). He then poured a full 4 pint carton of milk over my head. I went on a “raging maddy” and “went scarily crazy” at him, and lost it. Afterwards, I had to apologise to my friends for making them genuinely worried about what I was going to do, and it will embarrass me for a long time to come.

Lying (From here:)

Another moment where in my childhood a lie spun unbelievably out of control was the first time I went to Craig McCormick's house after school. I walked up, and as it was autumn, it was dark by the time I had to go home for dinner at 5.20pm, to be back for 5.30pm. When I arrived, Mrs McCormick ushered me in and was very friendly, and then I uttered the most amazing thing. She asked "Will you be getting a lift home?" and I went "No, my Dad's car has been in an accident, and he can't pick me up, I'll just walk home." What? There was no accident, and at what point did I think I would get away with this one was amazing, as I left it and totally forgot about the slip of the tongue into lie mode; next week I was picked up by my Mum, and, sure enough, Mrs McCormick asked "How is you husband?" to which my Mum answered "Fine…why?" Bollocks. The thing is that it must have been so embarrassing to my Mum, to Craig's Mum, and for me it was like "Bastard, it is their fault". It was not. I made these easily verifiable mistakes a few times over the course of my childhood; once in Primary I wrote in my News Diary that my Dad had became a Fireman, which was never going to happen. I made such a good story out of it, and drew such a good picture, I got a star for my table, but when it was found out to be fabrication at parents evening, again, my parents must have been rather embarrassed, but I am sure amongst the grown-ups the laughter must have been flowing.

Basically the lesson is kids, don't lie. But if you do, make sure it impossible for it to be easily found out, and don't be there when it is.