
There I am: the skinny, pimply, awkward 9th grade new girl in town. Virginia Beach, Virginia. First week of high school. Dressed out for PE. Running the track. As far from the door to get back in the gym as it's possible to be. A seagull passing overhead takes aim, fires. Nails it. A giant, runny white splotch lands on my head. Not the back of my head. Or the side. Nope. Right in front.
~*~
In a shocked stupor, I jog the rest of the way around the track with my hand on my head- looking like I'm in some sort of swoon, I'd imagine. Running inside without even asking permission, I tried my hardest to wash the gunk out of my hair in the bathroom sink before anyone could figure out what I was doing.
~*~
I foresaw some kind of scene out of Carrie...all the kids pointing and shrieking as I walked down the hall. In actuality, there was only mild ribbing. To my shocked surprise, I did not come away from this incident with any permanent nickname or mental illness. Still, over 25 years later, I count it up there as one of my most embarrassing moments. We all have them, right? Please, oh please, leave a comment and share one of yours!