The Time I Peed Myself to Avoid Embarrassment

As mentioned in my previous post, I went to a very small, very conservative, Christian high school. Every year we participated in an international student convention where Christian schools from all over the world gathered to compete in different events.

A classmate and I were on our way to one of the events and took a detour to a public restroom. I had been holding my bladder for a while and really needed to go, but I didn’t want it to make a lot of noise when I went because the girl I was with (the same one from the last post) liked to point out anything even remotely embarrassing and use it like a cattle prod against me.

I leaned as far as I could to make sure I hit porcelain instead of water.

I leaned too far.

I peed like a sharp-shooter right between the toilet seat and the bowl and onto my nylon stockings.

Nylons were required to attend any competitions (seriously conservative school) and I wasn’t about to walk around in urine-soaked hosiery, so I lied.

A self-deprecating lie is always the most convincing, so this one was good. This particular classmate was sharing a room with me at the convention and was appalled by how bad my feet smell after a day of wearing nylons (I’m not the only one, right?) and had already repeatedly made fun of me about it in public and in private. It seemed to be her favorite topic of conversation. I told her my feet smelled so bad I could smell them while they were still in my shoes and need to wash my feet and change my nylons.

And guess what.

IT TOTALLY WORKED! She complained all the way to the room about how we were going to be late to the event, but she never found out what happened!


Church Camp

I went to a very conservative Christian camp in my freshman year of high school with some not-so-nice schoolmates from my very tiny Christian school. There were designated swim times for boys and girls to swim separately and clothes had to be worn en route to the pool. It was the girls’ turn to swim so we all put our suits on and our long skirts over them (really conservative) and walked over together to swim.

Turns out my underwear had gotten stuck inside my skirt while changing into my suit and fell out on the walking path where it was later found by a bunch of boys. A counselor quickly snatched it up before the boys could do anything sinister with it, but when we got to the cabin, the counselor held my floral-printed waist-highs into the air and said “Whose are these? One of you dropped them outside.” In the half second it took for my face to turn beet red, one of my schoolmates laughs and screams, “Anna! Those are yours!” while the whole cabin had a good laugh at my expense. She apparently had thoroughly examined my undergarments as we all changed.

This same girl later thought it was a funny prank to put hair gel in my sneakers.

Shut up they were awesome.

First Day of High School

I don’t know if my first day of high school was particularly bad, or if time has exaggerated it in my mind.

People kept asking me if I was related to other white kids at the school.

Going down a flight of stairs, my backpack got caught on someone else’s backpack and I was dragged back to the top and then cussed at for slowing him down.

Got pushed down the stairs by a midget.

Spanish class was actually in Spanish.

I got 3rd chair on the first day of band (which would be a point of pride, except that it immediately made me the enemy of all the seniors below my placement).

I had no friends.

Logical response to this not-really-that-bad first day of school? Transfer. Stories of the new, super-conservative Christian school to come.

Band Camp

Band camp is already bad enough without my track record of embarrassing stories, so I’ll make this short. We had to do team building exercise where we passed different-sized fruit from person to person without using our hands and only using our necks and chins. I’m a very, very small person so this is an impossible task. We passed shortest (me) to tallest and started with a grapefruit which I immediately dropped, but the no hands rule still stood. So I got on the ground and failed over and over trying to grab the grapefruit with my little neck while the whole marching band looked on and laughed at me squirming on the ground like a worm.

And  the nail in the coffin: someone recorded the exercise and played it afterward only to rewind and fast forward multiple times over my incident at super speed.

I was not on the team that was built from that exercise.