Today's tale of embarrassment takes me back to high school.
I Just Have to Get This Off My Chest
I was a sophomore in high school. There were two boys at my school that I was crushing on. One, like me, was a sophomore. The other was a junior who was on the tennis team. I planned my route from class to class with them in mind, hoping to get a sighting of at least one of them to tide my teenage heart over until the next class ended.
Looking back, I have to believe that if even 25% more of my teenage brain had been dedicated to more academic pursuits, I could be practicing nuclear law right now.
Anywho, Mrs. Johnson's third period Modern World Civilizations class was ideally situated for Boy Crush Sightings. The junior had a locker nearby. The sophomore had his fourth period class just across the hall. It was my favorite time of day.
One day, we'd just finished a huge test in Modern World Civilizations. I'd studied for it for days, crammed for it during the early morning hours. I finished the last of the essay questions just before the ending bell rang, handing over my test to Mrs. Johnson. My friends and I filed out of the classroom, heaving sighs of relief that we'd been able to get through the exam.
At that time in my life, I tended to speak in superlatives. A couple of my friends teased me about being their Anne of Green Gables. Let's just say I was slightly dramatic in my conversation. (Imagine that.) So, in my eagerness to express my gratitude at having completed a difficult test, I turned to my group of girlfriends with a flourish, intending to say, "Well, that is a load off my brow!"
Very Anne-esque, eh? Unfortunately, what actually came out of my mouth, clear as a bell, was,
"Well, that is a load off my bra!"
For some inexplicable reason, my expression of relief was uttered at the exact instant that there was a momentary lull in the normal between-classes hallway noise. So it wasn't just my friends who heard my odd little mis-spoken exclamation. I clapped a hand over my mouth, blushing furiously, as my friends eyes widened and they began to giggle. Whirling around, prepared to make a run for the stairway, I ran smack into BOTH my Junior Crush and my Sophomore Crush.
Yep. To this day, I still cringe when I think about it.
Guess what, though? Later on, my sophomore crush was my senior prom date. He gave me a wrist corsage.