(Kaylina Kodlick / The McGill Tribune)

Finding the humour in embarrassing moments: Students share their most uncomfortable confessions

Student Living by

We’ve all been there: Wiping out in the middle of the Y-intersection, spilling Premiere Moisson coffee all over a new shirt, or running out of a class mid-lecture to vomit after a rough night out. These are the stories we tend to hide from the rest of the world. But this week, The McGill Tribune brings you some of its readers’ most uncomfortable and unfortunate tales of embarrassment.

Responses have been edited for style and length.

 

John M., Art History

“I was […] at a random house party in the [Milton-Parc neighbourhood] and I was flirting with [a girl] when I suddenly puked on her. I quickly left the apartment as I was embarrassed. The following morning I realized that I left with the wrong coat so I had to go back to the place. And guess who opens the door? The girl that received my vomit. Obviously, my reaction was to run away without saying a thing. I never went back and I still wear another man’s coat.”

Sanchi B., Management:

“I got pushed into a snowbank in front of the Frank Dawson Adams auditorium by 8-year-olds.”

Liam K., Economics:

“In my first year, I went to Gerts to watch the first 2016 presidential debate and got so drunk that within 10 minutes I was on the floor of the bar on my back chanting for Hillary Clinton while my best friend dragged me out of the bar by the back of my shirt. I’ll never go back to Gerts again.”

Alexa R., Engineering:

“I farted really loudly in Leacock 132.”

Gaby M., International Development Studies and Political Science:

“I was walking in late [to my 300-level Poli class] because I had stopped to get a burrito for lunch on the way, and had ended up being in line longer than expected. As I’m scrambling through the door and looking around for a seat […] my burrito, that I had already unraveled since I had started eating, begun toppling over [….] In between my lack of coordination and my mouth completely missing the burrito, all the condiments ended up inside my shirt amidst a sea of curious onlookers. The class is an hour and a half long [and] I didn’t have the nerve to go to the bathroom. I had guacamole-covered chicken touching my breasts. For 90 minutes.”

Elijah S., Arts, Sociology:

“One time during finals, I was walking through Redpath and saw someone in front of me waving and going in for a high five. I didn’t know him and was a little caught off guard but I thought he was just being motivational to try to get me through exams so I enthusiastically returned the coming high five only to realize a split second before our hands met that he was saying hi to the person behind me. I was so physically close to both of them at this point that it was too late to be able to just casually walk away, so I had to awkwardly say ‘my bad’ before turning red and sprint walking away.”

  • Bernie Sanders

    [Milton-Parc neighbourhood]

    it’s okay to call it the ghetto, Tribune. come on. lmfao