Public Humiliation

[wishfulthinking]

So, I was taking the train home during peak hour. A bunch of us had gone out for chinese at lunch. By the afternoon, I was feeling a bit icky, but it was the rocking of the train that got me. All I could manage to the person next to me was "I think you better move because I going to be sick." They moved fast, and I chundered all over the seat, me and the floor. I pretty much cleared the jammed pack carriage. There were some lovely people who offered me tissues and napkins and got the train operator. My mum laughed when I told her. She said now I've done everything but climb a tall mountain. A friend told me that they would have opened up their bag and vomitted in that, but I said I wasn't so self sacrificing.

What's your most humiliating public exhibition? Make me feel better by outshining me

 

[xssve]

I used to be addicted to Whatneys Ale and hot wings, which turned out to be a lethal combination, giving me gas in such volume, quantity and malign fragrance that I cleared several rooms, these things were just impossible to hold in.

A couple of times I tried to let them slip out slowly, but the pressure was such that it was impossible to stop them once they got loose, they were loud, long and they stank, contrary to conventional wisdom that dictates the louder the fart, the less noticable the smell. There simply is no way to adequately describe it, I've heard horses fart more discreetly and less unpleasantly - two memorable occasions were in a computer lab and another wating in a long line at Walgreens, and yeah, everybody stared at me.

I, of course, would stare in shocked silence at the person next to me, which didn't work unfortunately.

After that one I had to stop drinking Whatneys and hot wings - I still miss that delightful combination but I stopped for the good of the community.

 

[neonlyte]

Many years ago (thank God), we were driving back from Portugal to the UK. We took a different route, heading for Barcelona rather than the obvious corner to France through the Basque country... and got lost. It didn't matter, we had our tent and pitched by the side of the road in the mountains miles from anywhere. We had a restful night apart from a flock of sheep, with bells, who descended from the mountain and surrounded the tent in the late hours. Quite scary the distant bells growing louder and louder in the pitch dark, then moving off. Anyway, let's get to the disgusting bit. We were limited on food, in fact, we only had figs freshly picked the day before from my in-laws tree. We ate figs for supper, figs for breakfast and figs as we drove on and into Barcelona, by which time my need for a toilet had become desperate.

We stopped at a couple of garages but the toilets were disgusting beyond belief and I decided, 'cos I'm good at this sort of decision, that I could wait until we arrived in Barcelona, head straight for the Juan Miro Museum, recently built, where I knew there were excellent toilets. I parked the car outside the Museum and ran up the stairs, my sphincter already releasing it's vice like grip in anticipation.

The Museum was Monday. The Museum was closed.

There is a park next to the Museum, the plants and bushes have probably grown to a reasonable size now... but back then, they were tiny. There was no where to hide, and I had to go to the toilet. Embarrassment doesn't begin to cover it. There were people having picnics! Children playing... and me steaming.

 

[matriarch]

Many years ago (thank God), we were driving back from Portugal to the UK. We took a different route, heading for Barcelona rather than the obvious corner to France through the Basque country... and got lost. It didn't matter, we had our tent and pitched by the side of the road in the mountains miles from anywhere. We had a restful night apart from a flock of sheep, with bells, who descended from the mountain and surrounded the tent in the late hours. Quite scary the distant bells growing louder and louder in the pitch dark, then moving off. Anyway, let's get to the disgusting bit. We were limited on food, in fact, we only had figs freshly picked the day before from my in-laws tree. We ate figs for supper, figs for breakfast and figs as we drove on and into Barcelona, by which time my need for a toilet had become desperate.

We stopped at a couple of garages but the toilets were disgusting beyond belief and I decided, 'cos I'm good at this sort of decision, that I could wait until we arrived in Barcelona, head straight for the Juan Miro Museum, recently built, where I knew there were excellent toilets. I parked the car outside the Museum and ran up the stairs, my sphincter already releasing it's vice like grip in anticipation.

The Museum was Monday. The Museum was closed.

There is a park next to the Museum, the plants and bushes have probably grown to a reasonable size now... but back then, they were tiny. There was no where to hide, and I had to go to the toilet. Embarrassment doesn't begin to cover it. There were people having picnics! Children playing... and me steaming.

LOLOLOLOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

I know, I know, it's mean to larf......but that's so funny, and it's happened to me a few times. When I used to run (as in jogging), something about the motion of running, the bowels and bladder in equal proportion do not like it. It wasn't so bad when I ran at night, I could always duck in somewhere........the problems were at the weekends when I ran during the day...........oh lordy.....

*blink*

 

[Bizkit_Writer]

Many years ago (thank God), we were driving back from Portugal to the UK. We took a different route, heading for Barcelona rather than the obvious corner to France through the Basque country... and got lost. It didn't matter, we had our tent and pitched by the side of the road in the mountains miles from anywhere. We had a restful night apart from a flock of sheep, with bells, who descended from the mountain and surrounded the tent in the late hours. Quite scary the distant bells growing louder and louder in the pitch dark, then moving off. Anyway, let's get to the disgusting bit. We were limited on food, in fact, we only had figs freshly picked the day before from my in-laws tree. We ate figs for supper, figs for breakfast and figs as we drove on and into Barcelona, by which time my need for a toilet had become desperate.

We stopped at a couple of garages but the toilets were disgusting beyond belief and I decided, 'cos I'm good at this sort of decision, that I could wait until we arrived in Barcelona, head straight for the Juan Miro Museum, recently built, where I knew there were excellent toilets. I parked the car outside the Museum and ran up the stairs, my sphincter already releasing it's vice like grip in anticipation.

The Museum was Monday. The Museum was closed.

There is a park next to the Museum, the plants and bushes have probably grown to a reasonable size now... but back then, they were tiny. There was no where to hide, and I had to go to the toilet. Embarrassment doesn't begin to cover it. There were people having picnics! Children playing... and me steaming.

LOL! I'm sorry for laughing but its funny!

 

[BlackShanglan]

I re-decorated Kennington tube station. My choice of materials was non-traditional and pub-inspired.

The SO still teases me mercilessly about it. The most humiliating portion of the memory is sitting down in the tube train and watching the decidedly scruffy-looking man near me hastily stand up and move away. Oh, dear me. That and seeing some poor unoffending person slip and fall in my choice of decorating materials. God help me. I wanted to throw myself under the train, but I was sitting in it at that point. I still wish I could do anything to make it up to the poor man.

 

[neonlyte]

I re-decorated Kennington tube station. My choice of materials was non-traditional and pub-inspired.

The SO still teases me mercilessly about it. The most humiliating portion of the memory is sitting down in the tube train and watching the decidedly scruffy-looking man near me hastily stand up and move away. Oh, dear me. That and seeing some poor unoffending person slip and fall in my choice of decorating materials. God help me. I wanted to throw myself under the train, but I was sitting in it at that point. I still wish I could do anything to make it up to the poor man.

The worse thing about the tube 'incidents' is there is no escaping the 'odour'. It's trapped in those tunnels for hours being pushed first one way, then the other. Sorry, Shang... didn't mean to rub it in.

 

[SeaCat]

When I was living in Germany my lady friend and myself decided to go out one evening. We had a wonderful time, one that lasted late into the night. (Okay it lasted into the next morning so sue me.) We had hit more than a couple of bars and Gasthouses along the way. Both of us were feeling the effects of the long night, the food, the drink, the food, the loud bands, well you get the idea I'm sure. We made it to her town on the train and I was walking her home when it hit. The accumulated food and beverages from the past too many hours needed to be gotten rid of.

Oh how we hustled through that small town. Finally we made it to her place, what we here would call a duplex. Her parents owned it and she rented her side from them. We made it around the side of the house and were heading for the door when our bodies gave up the fight. Almost as though we had timed it we both let loose, our bowels and bladders emptying before we could a thing about it.

We were both still drunk enough that we looked at each other and laughed about it. In her fenced back yeard we skinned down and hosed down our clothes, hanging them on the fence to dry. Well one thing led to another and we fell asleep in each others arms, butt naked, on the back yard. (Do you see what's coming yet?)

Sure enough the next morning we were woken by her fathers rather dry voice telling us we should take it inside, not to mention we should wash the grass and grass stains off our asses.

Needless to say both of us were a bit embarrased.

We laughed about it later of course, and her father never fails to remind me of the time he found us in his backyard butt naked. (Yes I still talk with him quite often.)

Cat

 

[neonlyte]

This happened to someone else, I was on the 'receiving end'

Several years ago, the wife and I visited Venice, I think we went for an Art Biennale, it was late summer, still nicely warm. We had a really nice evening and a meal by the canal side just off the Grand Canal, and had exchanged brief tales with a young Australian couple and the girl's parents sharing an adjacent table. As we rose to leave they suggested a late night gondola ride, one of the shared gondolas cheaper than the champagne and roses seduction 'cruise', which we were all past needing.

We set off out onto the Grand Canal briefly before turning back into the network of smaller canals leading to the Fenice Opera House, a guitarist, (or violinist?) playing the usual and the gondolier doing his best to croon as if our lives might shatter without a rusty rendition of 'O Sole Mio'. The Australian girl put together a few notes and then began to sing. Turned out she was to be the new lead in Phantom of the Opera in Paris and she was taking the European Tour before commencing her performance. We got the works, magical, she just sung and people stopped on bridges and hung out of windows applauding. This went on for about twenty minutes, and she stopped, her voice growing a little 'stretched' and the silence and darkness enveloped us as we drifted along the canal behind the Opera House, As we turned a corner, one of the many alley streets ended at the water's edge and crouched there were two young women peeing into the canal.

Now... when you're wearing evening dress, and your mid-pee, there is actually not much you can do when a gondola pulls up amidships. You smile... then you laugh... then you run away.

 

[BlackShanglan]

The worse thing about the tube 'incidents' is there is no escaping the 'odour'. It's trapped in those tunnels for hours being pushed first one way, then the other. Sorry, Shang... didn't mean to rub it in.

No, no. Trust me. There's no way for me to be more ashamed of myself than I already am.

 

[wishfulthinking]

I all read all your posts and I am laughing so hard I am crying. There was a lot more bowel action than I could have ever expected.

 

[Belegon]

there have been several incidents over the years... but the one currently coming to mind is getting kicked out of a bar in P.B. called Emerald City for being too drunk... I remember arguing quite vehemently that I was absolutely not that drunk... right before I turned around and puked in the gutter...

I, um, lost the argument.

 

[BlackShanglan]

there have been several incidents over the years... but the one currently coming to mind is getting kicked out of a bar in P.B. called Emerald City for being too drunk... I remember arguing quite vehemently that I was absolutely not that drunk... right before I turned around and puked in the gutter...

I, um, lost the argument.

*snicker*

You know, when they tell you to save your strongest and most dramatic point for your last ... I'm not sure that's what they had in mind.