Saturday, March 29, 2014

My MOST Embarrassing Moment

I walk into the room and before me is a table of judges staring back at me. I think to myself, "Remember your opinions if they ask about gay marriage, Obama, plastic surgery, religion." I had spent years preparing for this moment. They say that the interview is the most important part of a pageant... and I wanted to win so bad.

One of the judges looked up from her paper. I instantly thought, "This lady looks like a republican, I can feel it. She's going to ask me about the healthcare system or abortion. She smiles at me and says, "So, what is your most embarrassing moment?" 

"OMG!" I think, "You have GOT to be KIDDING ME!!!" I look back at her and smile, but I'm panicking on the inside. "Why couldn't she ask me about abortion or Lindsay Lohan???" 

It's not that I don't know my most embarrassing moment, I remember it like it was yesterday. It's just that I can't tell ANYONE that story... much less this entire panel of important judges. How am I going to tell them THAT story? A queen would never reveal a story like this! I will never win. 

I look them all in the eyes and painfully whisper, "Are you sure?"

It's a cold, winter night in the Chicago suburb I grew up in. I'm 13 years old and had just gotten out of gymnastics practice. I'm waiting around for my Mom, she had a tradition of going to Borders and falling asleep reading in their cafe. 

Eventually I see her Suburban pull into the parking lot. I throw on my sweatpants over my leotard and get into the car. My little brother is there, looking chubby and annoying as usual. He's 10 and a total Mama's boy. "We need milk for my cereal and for your coffee Mama," he reminds her. 

She pulls up to the entrance at Jewel's and asks me to go in really quick. I actually don't mind going in alone because she would take 2 hours to buy a gallon of milk. I grab her debit card and run into the store.

As I walk towards the back of the store, where they keep the milk, I feel a sudden urge. I have to... you know... pass gas. Growing up my Mom trained us hardcore on being polite. We were not even allowed to say the word fart. I think to myself, "Cristina Neal you are a fine young lady! You do not pass gas in public!" My stomach starts to rumble. I pinch my butt cheeks together as tight as possible. I start talking to myself, "No, no, no! Not you! You will not fart in public!" I start speed walking towards the milk, thinking I could do it in the parking lot when I get out.

A few seconds pass and I feel like I am going to let it rip right here. I have to make a decision and fast. I am either going to fart next to all these people in the deli section or I can quickly find an empty aisle to release the monster. I bolt into the first cleared aisle I see... and I fart.

I fart... or wait, did I?

OHHHHHHHH MY GOSH!!! My eyes get big, my entire body goes into shock, I cant believe it. I stand there, completely still, looking at the canned beans and empty aisle. I had just diarrhea-ed all over myself!!! I still cant believe it. I am 13 years old and just sh*t myself in the grocery store. Since I am wearing my gymnastics leotard it feels like I have a balloon filled with diarrhea attached to buttocks area. "This is bad, real bad," I think to myself.

I come back to reality and am faced with the hardest decision of my life; to get the milk or not get the milk! "If I leave, I will have to explain to my Mom and brother why I do not have the milk. They will know I sh*t myself and I will never hear the end of it. Everyone will find out and make fun of me forever. I just can't let that happen.

I turn slowly and start shuffling over to the milk. I can feel warm liquid running out of my leotard and down my legs. "Stay focused, stay focused," I repeat in my head. I make it to the milk and start shuffling back across the store to the checkout. Every move I make results in more pieces of hot diarrhea sliding down my legs. The sweatpants, thank God for the sweatpants. They hold the escaping pieces of poop at my ankles. I smile awkwardly at the cashier as I pay and shuffle out the door.

Now the tricky part. My Mom pulls up and I get into the front seat of the car like an old lady with a broken back. I close the door and hold myself up with my arms. I can't sit or my diaper of diarrhea will explode all over my Mom's car! Giving away my secret. My Mom turns to me and says, "OH MY GOD! What in the world is that smell?!?!?!?"

Without hesitation, I whip my head around and look back at my little brother, "Oh my gosh Wili, are you serious?!?" My brother gives me a confused look, "NO! I swear, this time it wasn't me! I promise!" I insist, "WILLIAM NEAL! You are SO disgusting! I can't believe you would fart like that with me and Mom in the car!" We go back and forth for the next two minutes until we get home.

I try to walk as normal as possible into the house and straight to the bathroom. I realize I can't put my clothes in the dirty laundry. I take off my sweatpants and leotard, then humbly scoop and gather the feces into the toilet. I spend the next hour washing my clothes in the bathtub. The things one does for self-pride.

I look again at the judges and instead of telling them this story I say, "I don't have embarrassing moments. I think it is vital that in life we learn how to laugh at ourselves and live life freely." I won.