I’m dying laughing at the image in my head about your scenario.

Gay Waiter: And what do you want?

You: I want some pasta fag.

In high school, I had a red corduroy coat. I adorned it with patches. I glued Celtic jacquard ribbon to it at the cuffs and hems. I added brass stars and studs to it. I wore it to school and felt really cool. In my mind, I was a wizard.

I’ve never been afraid to stand out, but I’ve learned to do it more judiciously.

If the cringiest moment of your life is pronouncing it fag-e-oli, you have had very little cringe in your life.

Hah. That reminds me of the time when I was a kid we went to a Chinese restaurant. We were from a rural area and visiting a city, so this did not happen too often. We get the menues, decide on what to order etc etc. The waitress comes over, takes our orders and recites them while writing them down. Thing is she has a really heavy accent and recites “fried shrimp with rice” as “flied slimp with lice”.

My stepfather is trying to keep a straight face but just can’t hold it in. He’s squirming, red-faced, and tries to hide behind his menu while the waitress keeps reciting the orders. He then excuses himself to the restroom and you can hear him giggle all the way there, then full-out laugh in the echoes of the tile walls.

It doesn’t end there though. During dinner we start discussing where to buy chopsticks (we’d never seen them in stores and internet shopping wasn’t a thing yet) so when the waitress comes around to ask how we like the food my stepfather (still trying to keep the giggles in) asks where to buy them. He then blurts out “can I buy these?”, waving the sticks in his hand.

“You want to buy the sticks???” The look on her face was priceless. Utter shock and disbelief. But sure enough, they gave us a pair each when paying the note.

Holy mother of cringe I’m still embarrassed over this event.

“I really don’t think of you, or Twilight Sparkle, in that way.”

(A flirty acquaintance had sent me unsolicited erotic My Little Pony fanart.)

By far and away calling my friend’s mom retarded when I was a stupid little kid. He was on speaker. If I could pinpoint the exact moment where my life started going off-track, it was then and there. But boy was I upset that his mom wouldn’t let him play guild wars.

I’m sure she’s forgotten it, and he probably has too, but the moment replays in my head at least once a month.

At least it was a learning experience. Now I never say anything about anyone that I’m not willing to say to their face.

When I was in 8th grade we had an assignment during black history month where we were assigned an important person in black history and had to make a slideshow about them. I got Malcolm X and was really excited because I had very surface level knowledge that he was cool for some reason and I like his name. A very sweet black Muslim girl asked to swap historical figures with me for obvious reasons and I said no because I thought that the historical figures she was assigned was boring for some reason or another. Anyway I think about this weekly, I’m sorry Miriam.

To give added context I’m a white secular boy who knew nothing real about the civil rights movement and my slideshow was a disservice. To make matters worse, I lived in Texas.

I swear I woke up in a cold sweat one night years ago, remembered this, and haven’t been able to forget it. She seemed really excited to do a project about him too T-T

Being told, by my classmates, that the tooth fairy isn’t real with me fervently claiming otherwise. Thanks a lot mom and dad, you were too convincing.

Not really my cringiest because there were so many moments to choose from, but to use a severe one, every year in school, students do a heritage project. It includes things like recording physical traits (eye colour, hair colour, etc.) as well as ancestors and their nationalities and whatnot. Only, to this day, they never, ever, ever factor in that maybe someone was adopted. So imagine insecure me trying to charade the message to a teacher whose mind it never even dawned on without trying to get the classmates to know, all the while having to blindly progress through the assignment. The result? I ended up lying a whole lot on the heritage assignment, which went where else than on display and in the records like all the other work done on the heritage assignment by the classmates. Because it was a showcase.

I should clarify I know my birth parents and “met” them, but nothing beyond that. So, out of fears of getting a failing grade, I ended up creating a family tree that was a mix of stereotypes about myself, historical inaccuracies, and other things that only got worse because my sister was doing a similar assignment and put in a completely different family alternate history. Someone ended up worried and had a talk with my adoptive guardian about her authenticity, and I probably came close to being relocated again, or that’s what the anxiety would’ve made it feel like. Eventually, I was told not to do the assignment, but it was too late, I had made lies that were forever associated with me.

I was spacing out and thinking of a really funny joke from Cold Ones, i was starring at what seemed to be the window of an empty car while laughing my ass off, then suddently the sun came out, it shined on the window, inside the car was a girl, she starred at me with the most horrified expression ever, also know this, i was laughing my ass off for 2 minutes straight while starring at the window, before the sun came out

I tried to order “freedom fries” at a burger restaurant once. My mom looked at me like she didn’t know me. It was a tough afternoon for 13-year-old me. My face is heating up just remembering.

During my senior year of college, I made a burner Google account for my girlfriend and I to use with apartment/property websites. We needed a place to live after graduation, but neither of us wanted to use our personal email addresses to make accounts because fuck 'em.

The last year of engineering school requires completing a design project, typically for real business owners. My senior design team and I had a weekly video chat with my clients where we gave progress updates on our project.

During my video call the week after I made this burner Google account, the first thing my clients say is “OP, what is wrong with your name? It says something very strange.” I had no idea what they meant by this, so I shrugged it off and the meeting continued.

Later that week while I was driving home from class, what they meant finally dawned on me. I forgot to log out of my burner account before joining the video call, and the name I gave this account was “Joe Lickembottom.” So instead of my real name shown under my face during this meeting, Joe Lickembottom was.

This may not sound that bad, but one client is a self-made Texas rancher sorta character, and the other is a retired Navy SEAL commander. These people meant business and were dead serious the whole time I worked with them.

But hey, they offered me a job after graduation so they must’ve not thought too much of it haha

If it makes you feel any better OP I worked at Chipotle in a very white part of the US.

When you start out, you heat the Tortillas and the ask about rice and beans before someone else does the hard work.

White or brown?

Black or pinto?

Ok not super racist.

We hire this gay guy and a bunch of kids come in mispronouncing everything. He took major pride in asking them all if they wanted FA JITAS. Very funny.

Speaking as a member of that pasta’s folks I was under the impression that’s how it was pronounced

Can’t replay embarrassing memories from your childhood if most of your childhood is truama fog! *jabs head with pointer finger with aggression*