“Quality Check” by Ray (Spanish Fork, Utah)

Embarrassing Moment(s)

I once worked in a manufacturing plant which was to be awarded a prestigious “Quality” award by a major company to which we supplied product.  The presentation, by two company vice presidents from this “Fortune 500 Company”, was to happen in a section of our plants warehouse and was to include the plant management and manufacturing employees.  To make it seem more like a meeting room and not like a warehouse we cleared the product out of an area and put up a huge banner on the wall with both companies logos and names along with the name of the “Quality Award”.  We brought in a rostrum complete with a microphone, and speakers, and chairs for the employees to sit on.

The banner arrived about an hour before the visiting companies dignitaries and was quickly hung on the wall. Standing back to admire our work we suddenly noticed to our amazement the supplier of the 15 foot by 30 foot banner had mispelled quality. The whole purpose of the meeting was about our excellent quality and it apeared we couldn’t even spell it. Luckily the supplier of the banner was still in the building and able to pull off the “ila” and reposition it to read “ali”.

“No Repeat Customer” by Crystal (Bountiful, Utah)

Embarrassing Moment(s)
During high school, I worked at a small family owned dry cleaner.  Most everyone who worked the counter were female high school students and being such we were called the “counter girls.” The counter girls dealt with customers, checked in the cloths, and ran the tills. Like most dry cleaners, they had a drive up with a sliding glass door and there were usually at least two working at a time.  So if there was more than one person at the drive up we could go out to help the next car while the first was also being helped.  We also keep the sliding glass door shut as much as possible.
Well this one afternoon a gentleman pulled up to the sliding door and he got out and came inside to be helped.  But being that there had also been other customers my fellow counter girl had been in and out and had shut it behind her the last time she had come in.  The poor, unsuspecting man turned to leave and full on walked in the glass door and I swear to you that that door bulged out a bit he hit it so hard.  We could not contain ourselves.  We were laughing so hard and could barely muster an “Are you okay?”  Not only that, but he also had left like a 5 inch face grease mark on the door! The girl that I was working with and I decided to leave the smudge there to see how long it would take for someone to notice and wipe it off.  Unfortunately I think the routine glass cleaning got to it before it lasted too long. But needless to say, we no longer saw him again, but we often would see his wife.

“Orientation” by anecdoting.com

Embarrassing Moment(s)

Editor’s Example:

With great anticipation and lots of nerves, students from a few grade schools combined to see the layout of new stomping grounds: the much larger Metcalf Junior High in Burnsville, Minnesota. But the talk of the day centered on learning how to use combination lockers.

Naturally, not-so-mature middle schoolers were testing if they could fit inside; smartly they would puff up like a blowfish and act like there was no way possible: the biggest fear of the skinny “diary of a wimpy kid” type being that a bully might stuff you in a locker at some point in the year. I should have used that tactic. Continue reading “Orientation” by anecdoting.com →

“Sleep-talking” by Zach (Saratoga Springs, Utah)

Embarrassing Moment(s), Newlyweds, Sleep Talking

Early in our marriage, my wife and I discovered that we were both sleep-talkers. One night I awoke to a strange noise that I couldn’t quite figure out. It was a consistent, flat hum. The kind a kid makes when they are pretending to be a race car. As I became more conscience, I realized that the sound was coming from my wife.“Baby,” I said, “what are you doing?” “I’m on a mint green moped.” she replied. Although she spoke very clearly, I could tell she was not awake. The hum, which I now recognized as her mimicking the sound of an engine, continued. Flat, consistent, unchanging. “Baby,” I asked again, “what are you doing on a moped?”

“I’m in a race!” (More flat humming)

“Well, are you winning?”

“No! They’re getting away,” (Flat hum)

“Try shifting gears!”

At this suggestion, she immediately changed the hum, as though she finally found second gear, then third, then fourth. At some point she must have crossed the finish line because the humming faded away, and I faded back into sleep. The next morning, she remembered the entire race, but not a word of the conversation.