My Most Embarrassing Moment

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 Wet & Wild

Aging & Attitude

   My most embarrassing moment occurred the summer of 1986 on Long Beach Island, a well know vacation spot for families from the New York, New Jersey and Philadelphia area. The drive along the Garden State Parkway to exit 63A and over the Manahawkin Bay Bridge, affectionately called The Causeway by locals, is a true Jersey experience. The unique bridge lights, famed Strand of Pearls, are memorable viewed at night.

Called LBI, the island known for its beach umbrellas, sand castles, and surfers, has no boardwalk, and is minus the frenzy of other nearby beach communities like Seaside Heights, famous for Snookie and the TV show “Jersey Shore.”

My husband says his most embarrassing moment was asking a cousin when her baby was due and she responded, “I’m not pregnant.”

His experience pales next to mine.

Makes you wonder what is behind embarrassment.

My children and husband watched the incident.

In 1986, my son was eleven, my daughter, nine, and me; I was thirty-eight years old. I do not know the age of the pimpled face teen.

The week was uneventful, no rain or black flies, and the mosquitoes only came out at night. Our friends and their two kids visited a few nights, and we went to the Wet & Wild slide in Beach Haven.

Recently, I Googled  Wet & Wild on Eighth and Bay Ave, and it is renamed the Thundering Surf Water Slide, but the giant pink bubble gum colored slide remains the same.

The kids enjoyed Wet & Wild so much we went back. My husband, not up for the wet and wild experience, joined other parents in the gallery to cheer and applaud when the ride ended. I was eager and grabbed a rubber magic carpet for the ride.

For the vacation, I purchased a hot turquoise one-piece swimsuit; halter-top, knotted behind the neck and perfect for swimming.

After several carpet rides, I was starting to enjoy myself, you know let loose, when the embarrassing moment happened. To this day I am thankful my husband was standing in the gallery, keen-eyed.

I landed in the bottom pool with the heavy magic carpet on my head, choking on water. My eyes opened to Pimple Boy staring at me like he is stoned.

I managed to remove the mat from my head and stand, then heard a voice call my name. Once my husband had my attention he pointed to his chest.  I looked down. Yes, I was fully exposed and playing to a full crowd, about twenty people.

Pimple Boy popped more zits and I scurried to hide and put things back in.

I sort refuge behind the stairs, where my two children where hiding, and exclaimed out of breath, “The most embarrassing thing just happened.”

In whispered tones, they mouthed, “We know, Mom.”

I wonder what Pimple Boy’s most embarrassing moment is.

What is your most embarrassing moment?

                                                         …just saying

12 thoughts on “My Most Embarrassing Moment”

  2. It definitely has to do with exposing breasts which makes me wonder what is embarrassing for European women. Or maybe it was the time when I was about 5, my father took me to this woman’s house (a beautiful historic mansion). They left me to wander. I opened a door thinking it led to another room. Unfortunately, it was a bathroom door and there was her teenage son sitting on the toilet.

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      • While training for the New York City Marathon, I deceidd to do a half marathon a few weeks out as a speed workout. I couldn’t have been 3-miles into the race when I realized I needed a bathroom. Each time I came to a volunteer, I would ask where the porta potty was and no one knew. I started asking spectators, but no one knew. Then I saw a lot filled with RV’s, wow, was I tempted. Finally, by mile 4 and barely running, I came upon a church and lo and behold, there were two potties out behind in the bushes. I think it was the fastest I ran all day. Of course as a racer, I was timing my event, so I tried to make it quick and got back on the course as fast as I could only to get about a half a mile up the road when IT struck again. With no other potties in sight, there I was, running agaisnt the other runners, heading back to the potty. I felt like a salmon during migration! All in all, it was a 6-minute issue that put a damper on the whole speed training plan.Of course while that might be bad for most, my next race had it’s own problem. I ran New York City a few weeks later on what started out to be a nice crisp day, but by the time I hit Brooklyn, I was hot, so off came the shirt. I tied it around my waist and continued on, wearing a nice white sports top. With so many people running the race, I didn’t think much of what I was hearing from the crowd. Several times I would hear, Oh, she’s bleeding , but didn’t think nothing of it. After a while of hearing the same thing again and again, I started to look at myself. I looked down thinking maybe my navel ring had caught on my waist band and was bleeding, but nothing was there. I didn’t hurt, so I thought it must have been someone near me they were talking about. Then, as I came through Central Park, I picked up speed. None of the other runners followed, yet I was still hearing the oh, she’s bleeding comment from just about everyone. Then I finally noticed what they were talking about. My left chest had been bleeding and when mixed with the sweat in my top, it spead like wildfire. My white top was red on one side! Looking back at the photos, it had been that way most of the race. Did I ever find out the importance of those foil blankets at the finish!Paula Jean LuntTenants Harbor, ME 04860

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