No! I can’t! It’s too embarrassing. You’ll never see me in the same light. What? You really want to know? For the sake of this blog (and for your eyes ONLY) I’ll tell you about one of the most embarrassing moments ever.
But, before I do, a couple of Writing Pad announcements. . .
This September, we want you to get published! How about that? Here are two classes that will help you do just that. Successful freelance journalist Margaret Wappler (who has already helped five students sell essays, including one 15 essay series for xoJane), is teaching a five week Personal Essay class, and Maureen McHugh (Best Book of 2011) is teaching a Flash Fiction Bootcamp. Both of these classes are designed to help you get a short piece published right after you finish the class! Sign up before these classes are full.
And now, you can scroll down for your writing prompt. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.
They happen at the worst times- embarrassing moments. They could involve bodily functions, a loss of equilibrium, wardrobe malfunctions. . . Marilyn visited her family this past weekend in Chicago, so this prompt is inspired by her visit (as family can often create many embarrassing moments).
Make a list of 3 embarassing moments you’ve experienced (either with your family or alone). Pick one. Add a sensory detail to it (smell, taste, sound, touch). Now write about that embarrassing moment for 10 minutes, making sure to include that sensory detail. Then, post your results in the comments of this blog!
And now it’s time for me to share my embarrassing moment. So here it is. I got trapped inside a bathroom at a wedding. It was the only bathroom at an intimate ceremony held at an apartment in Los Angeles. Fearing the embarrassing moment of being caught on the toilet by a stranger I made sure the door was locked. Really locked. I turned the 1940s bolt till it couldn’t turn anymore. My skin stung from pushing through the layers of paint turning the circular button. Safe and secure I peed, washed my hands, touched up on the mirror. I turned the same bolt in the opposite direction, but it wouldn’t budge! I took a towel to grip it. Nothing. I tried my dress. Nothing.
By now, people were pounding on the door.” Hurry up!” I was too embarrassed to fess up to locking myself in. A child’s voice screamed to his mother, “I have to pee!” I sweated like a freight train was coming towards me. The bride’s voice crept from the other side of the door. The reception had halted. People asked what was going on. I gripped that bolt every which way I could. In the end, I punched out the screen and got out through window. The darn bolt just didn’t move.