"So I was courting this girl. Sort of. Being in middle school, I was super awkward and just shy of my first growth spurt. I stood all of 5'2" tall and weighed in at a hefty 98 lbs. I am male, I feel that I need to point that out.
Anyway, Valentine's Day rolls around, so I bought her a box of chocolates. Unfortunately, I'm extremely terrified of giving it to her. I keep losing the nerve every time I see her until the end of the day bell rings and everyone is stashing their stuff in their lockers, grabbing their coats, and getting ready to go home. I make my way through the crowd until I find her at her locker, and I finally resolved to give them to her and wish her a happy Valentine's Day. I walk up to her and discover that I've developed a stutter in the last minute and a half. I'm terrified, but I manage. She gives me an equally awkward thanks and a coy smile.
I'm totally in. It's great.
I rub my neck.
Just then, someone running down the hall collides with me--and hard. My arm, currently cocked back to shyly rub my neck, launches forward. I punch her directly in the eye and send her sprawling into her own locker.
My middle school awkwardness immediately takes over. I bail like I'd just walked into a murder scene in my own house.
She hasn't spoken to me since."
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"In high school, I would always get an upset stomach if I was stressed out and didn't get a good night of sleep. It was report card day and I got to school with a particularly upset stomach. I had to decide if I should go to homeroom and get my report card or go straight to the bathroom. I went for the report card. It wasn't bad. A sense of relief washed over me. Right before I pooped my pants.
I hobbled to the bathroom to evacuate what's left, assess the situation, it's not good. And what's worse? There is no toilet paper. This is a terrible, crappy mess. And the only thing I have to attempt to clean it up with is my report card. I do what I can.
So now I have to go to the office and try to explain what happened, why I need to go home, and why I need another copy of my report card, and somehow do it as quickly as possible because I literally smell like crap.
I end up getting shuffled around the office and at this point, I'm mad. I just want to go home. I've already explained my situation to three people. It gets to the point where I'm on speaker phone with my mom and an office administrator, in the middle of the office mind you, and I have to get permission to be sent home. This old crone Ms. Bernadette makes me explain it out loud. So I just yell, 'I CRAPPED MY PANTS AND HAD TO WIPE MY BUTT WITH MY REPORT CARD.'
And my mom starts cracking up laughing. Followed by the rest of the office, save for Ms. Bernadette, who I'm staring daggers at.
I got to go home finally, but I got a Saturday detention for mouthing off to Ms. Bernadette."
"In sixth grade, I got the hiccups in class. This was during 'silent reading time' and they were really bad, so I asked my teacher if I could be excused to get a drink of water from the fountain, since I'd read online that water gets hiccups under control.
Rather than let me do that, he decided to try out a new hiccup remedy he'd read about. He had me come up to the front of the room, then he filled a paper cup with water from the sink. Underneath the watchful and snickering gaze of all of my classmates, he had me bend over with my butt sticking out, facing my classmates by the way, and drink the water practically upside down.
It didn't work, I got water all over my shirt to the point where you could see the outlines of my training bra, my pants slipped so you could see my butt crack, and the one or two people I still talk to from that class won't let me forget it to this day (I'm 26 now)."
"So I had the school's gym teacher as my homeroom teacher, and I saw him often. Sometime during that first week of school, I caught him singing the song 'I Got You, Babe,' at the top of his lungs alone in the gym. I laughed at him since he was a big tough guy who you would not expect to be busting out a Sonny and Cher song but performed a little impromptu duet with him.
It became our inside joke that I had caught him singing that, and so when we would pass each other in the hall or gym or whatever we would hum that song and we'd both laugh. Anyhow, around Valentine's Day, those stupid singing animal dolls start showing up on sale, and I ran across a pair of frogs that sang 'I Got You, Babe,' when I was out shopping with my mom. She worked at the school and knew the gym teacher and the story and told me she'd buy them for me to give to him as a joke.
So, for some reason, I thought this was a good idea. I showed up to school on Valentine's Day, walked up in front of my whole homeroom, and give him those stupid singing frogs. And he just stared at me. He didn't laugh, didn't make any sort of joke. He then gave me this super awkward embarrassed smile, said 'thank you, sweetie,' pityingly, and I realized at that moment, standing in front of my homeroom of at least 30 other students, that it looked like I was confessing my love to the gym teacher. And those stupid frogs start singing and I just stood there mortified until they finished.
Not knowing what to do, I just ran back to my seat. Everyone stared at me open-mouthed through the rest of homeroom. I ran straight to my mom's classroom and hid in there for a while. She went and spoke to the teacher later and he told her he had actually found it quite funny and that he had totally gotten the joke. Well then, why didn't you say anything you big jerk? People thought I had some creepy girlish crush on my gym teacher. It was bad for the rest of high school."
"We had a very attractive gym teacher back when I went to high school. For some reason, yoga had just been added to the curriculum and it was the first day of it for our class. Well, our teacher decided to show us her flexibility, so she touched her toes to demonstrate.
All of a sudden, both of her melons fell right out of the top of her shirt. She covered herself quickly, but that was enough for one kid in the back. He sat down and started jerking off. It was obvious what he was doing, but nobody was stopping him. So, being the good person I thought I was in high school, I went up and told him to stop. I also didn't know this kid was special needs.
I'm standing there, telling him to stop, and then he drops his pants and blows his load. Right there. On my shoes. The teacher flipped out, called the school cops down, and had him taken out of class. For the rest of my time in high school, I was called 'Potato Juice.'"
"In fourth-grade music class one day, we had a guest speaker who came in with an oscilloscope. He was using different instruments to demonstrate the different sound waves. It was a pretty cool music and science crossover, so the students were pretty engaged.
Towards the end of the presentation, he plugged a microphone into the scope and asked for volunteers to speak into it, so we could see what a voice looks like. The girl sitting next to me volunteered.
The presenter bent down and said, 'Okay boys and girls, let's everyone be quiet for a few seconds ones, and when I point to Alison, she'll speak and we'll see her voice. Everyone watch the scope...'
The room went quiet and the line on the scope was flat. The presenter pointed at the scope and everyone looked. He held up one finger, then a second finger, and was about to point to Alison to speak when I farted.
The scope showed the graph of my fart, which was quite loud in a completely silent classroom. It was very obvious that it came from me, as the pale skin handed down to me by my Irish ancestors turned bright red. The crowd, presenter, and even the teacher laughed, and I wanted to die."
"It was my first week at a new school, and I've always been pretty awkward. I was really nervous but my dad told me it was a chance to reinvent myself and you don't get many of those opportunities in life. My mum said if anything happened, I should just laugh it off.
So I bought a nice new shirt to wear, it was pinstriped with some metallic stripes running through it and a pair of heels. I got up early, ironed my new shirt and went to have breakfast in the cafeteria. I must have ironed my shirt on too high a heat and whatever the metallic strips were made of couldn't take it, because as I was making my way out, down the center of the cafeteria in front of everyone, it ripped almost completely in half down the back.
I was in such a hurry to get out I fell over myself down the stairs. Maybe some people might not have noticed, except in my panic my mum's words were going round in my head 'laugh it off, laugh it off,' so I made this really loud 'nyaaaah!' nerdy snorting noise. I don't think anyone missed that. So much for reinventing myself!"
"I come from a fresh immigrant Asian family. My dad is a hoarder and cheap. Because of this, he gets stuff from people, consignment shops, or dumpster dives. He rarely bought me clothes I wanted. Most of it was hand-me-downs or stuff he got from god knows where.
Anyways, around 4th grade, I needed a new winter coat. He got me this fur coat. I remember it vividly. It was cream colored and waist length like a bomber jacket. It was made of rabbit fur if I recall correctly and possibly from China that he brought over when he came to the US. It was clearly hideous, for a female, and absolutely not for a youngster whose peers were wearing Starter jackets. As much as I resisted, he was adamant I wear it, otherwise, I would freeze.
Wearing it at the bus stop in front of my friends was as horrifying as one would imagine. I didn't know who Don King was then, but I was embarrassed as heck and was probably 100% opposite of the swagger and bravado of how Don King would wear fur.
I think by the time the school day was over, I rushed home and stuffed the coat in some crevice never to found again. I've been self-conscious about the clothing I wear ever since."
"When I started my period, I was in high school at play practice. I was in a panic because nobody had anything for me, no tampons or pads, and I didn't have time to go to the school nurse. Finally, this girl gives me the BIGGEST PAD YOUVE EVER SEEN. I was wearing cheerleading shorts and I was a very small girl.
WELL. One girl didn't show up for practice and I was asked to stand in for her. She was part of a musical number and the boy I had a huge crush on was her partner. For part of the dance portion, he had to lift me by my waist and plop me onto his shoulder. Every time I landed, there would be a deafening crinkling sound from my gigantic pad right into his ear. Thank goodness I didn't get any blood on his shoulder. I wanted a giant bat to swoop down and carry me off into the great unknown, I was so embarrassed."
"One day in like 7th-ish grade, I was in the bathroom having a hard time pushing out my poop, so I uh, wiggled around to help get it out. I felt it leave my buttocks, so I assumed the deed was over, wiped up, and went back to class.
Everything was going good back in class until I felt something squishy, I turned around, and to my horror, the crap was on my chair. Somehow it got stuck to the back of my pants after my wiggling and was now on my chair in the middle of my class. My self-proclaimed friends saw me freak out. I almost bailed in fear and told them to not say a word to anyone, and I picked up the crap with my hands and rushed back to the bathroom where I proceeded to wash my hands for 15 minutes, but the smell of poop was not going anywhere.
So after washing my hands to the bones, I returned to class to see that my friends cleaned up the mess on my chair and not a single word was exchanged and I quietly finished my day at school. No one but my small group of friends knew about it.
It was never ever brought up again. Well, not to my face at least. There was this one time I swear one of them was gonna say something, but another friend kicked them and made them shut up.
The worst part was when I got home and started washing my hands yet again. My mom yelled at me to listen to this song, which was about a man signing to a girl about how her poo smells like roses. I stood there in silence as she had no idea what I went through only a few hours ago."
"One time, back when I was in the 6th grade, we had a science project where we would soak an egg in various liquids and solutions and see what would happen. After we had a few assigned liquids, saltwater, water, and vinegar, the teacher let our group chose one liquid of our choice.
So I suggested to my group that I have a bottle of Captain Morgan at home and I could bring that in. I was 100% serious and actually curious about what would happen. They thought I was joking so they also said, 'Yeah, sure,' not thinking I would actually do it.
While I wasn't listening properly, my group mentioned something about bringing in seltzer water. So the next day, genius me walks into school with a bottle of spirits. I was even proud of it. I showed it to my friends on the bus like I was hardcore or something. Science class comes and we all bring in our liquids and put them on a table. So each group goes about doing their thing, and just as I was about to pour some of that Captain Morgan into the beaker with the egg, the teacher says, 'what in the world is that?'
I reply, nonchalantly, 'Captain Morgan.'
I got suspended for 5 days. I never got the bottle back."
"I was taking a health class the summer before freshman year and the class was made up of a mix of other freshmen and seniors who needed to take it to graduate. I sat in the back of the class with my friend and we thought we were so cool now that we were in high school. In the middle of the summer, we had a test on the family education section and I finished early and strutted up to my teacher in the front of the room to hand him my test.
When I went back to my desk, I wanted to be even cooler and draw more attention to the fact that I had finished early, so I decided to collapse dramatically into my chair. The desk broke into three pieces and two senior boys had to help me take the pieces to the custodian's office and bring back a new desk for me. That was the last time I thought I was cool.
And as a bonus, after I had tried to erase the memory of that event a few weeks later, my teacher handed back my test on which he had written 'A -- don't worry, we won't charge you for the desk! :)'"
"In 7th grade, I sat by a friend in computer class and we'd always be laughing and messing around. Well, one day I guess I was a bit gassy and had been holding it in. We were just goofing off in the class and laughing at each other.
I'm pretty sure the teacher had told us to knock it off, so we were trying to hold our laughter in, which only makes things even funnier. I don't remember what happened, but something just set me off and I was laughing really hard. Unfortunately, that caused me to rip the biggest, loudest fart that one can imagine in a dead silent classroom.
I immediately turned beet-red and heard a lot of 'oh my god,' 'what the heck' and 'ew!' comments behind me. The class was disgusted, I was mortified, and the teacher was trying to settle the class down with her 'everyone does it!' comments.
They called me 'fart boy' for a good week, but it was old news the next week, luckily, and my embarrassed self was able to get over it."
"I moved across the country in the middle of eighth grade. I had been at my new school less than a month and was in science class. We had some free time and I was playing a game on one of the computers in the room. When the teacher called everyone back to their desks, I stood up and immediately realized my pants were soaked. There was a huge puddle in the red plastic chair, and I realized I had started my period earlier than anticipated, and much heavier than any period I had had before.
Being new, and the teacher being male, I was too terrified to say anything. But it got worse. One of the other students in the class, a male, noticed me looking at the chair and asked 'what's that?' immediately bringing the entire class's attention to me. I mumbled some excuse about my water bottle leaking and then sat back down.
Everyone forgot about it pretty quickly, except my grandmother, who I was living with at the time. She, in some form of logic, decided that because I leaked, I was never allowed to use tampons again.
Fortunately, I never had a day like that one again but the consequences stuck with me for years."
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