Embarrassing is my middle name.

I've asked some friends before to tell me their most embarrassing moments and have come to a few conclusions. First, I think they're lying and won't tell me their REAL most embarrassing moment. Second, I have more embarrassing moments on a daily basis than most of my friends will ever have in their entire lives. I don't mind, things usually roll off my back and I have an enormous ability to laugh at myself. Honestly, I figure that if something stupid I've done gives someone the reason to laugh when they haven't done so all day - well then, yeah, I'll be the martyr and make an ass of myself.

Today, I made an ass of myself.

I went to a doctor's appointment in the morning (both to get an antibiotic for this massive-amounts-of-multicolored-snot-producing bug that I can't seem rid of and to talk about smoking cessation, which I'll tell about later), and instead of going home afterward, I decided to run some errands and just enjoy some sunshine. As I'm walking back to my place, I notice someone bent over, unlocking their bicycle from where it was chained to a parking meter. I recognize the make and model of the bike, the hairstyle, and even the jeans of its owner - my friend Steve, who lives in Center City. Seeing as how Steve and I usually greet each other with a similar gesture, I run up behind him and lay the hardest smack on his ass that I can generate, shouting "HEY good-looking, YO ASS looks FIIIIINE in them jeans!". He turns around.

It is not Steve.

That "want to just die" feeling? If I had been murdered right there, I'd have thanked the gunman. I almost threw up, honestly. NotSteve looks at me like I have just eaten his unborn child - he looks physically and mentally HURT. I turn 50,000 shades of red, and I truly believe I may have had a full-on niacin flush.

"Ohmygod iamsosorry I thought you were my friend, I swear, he has that exact bike and everything, I am so so so so sorry."

And then I notice that NotSteve's GIRLFRIEND is standing a mere three feet away. She looks like she's going to be that murderer that I am ready to thank for killing me. I apologize for another hour and a half or so, and all NotSteve says is "its okay, you just scared me, and that HURT." Girlfriend is staring me down and I'm fairly certain she might stab me with the keys she is holding. I explain that my friend looks JUST like him from behind, he lives in the area, and that he has a similar bike and the same jeans. No one's buying it.

Finally, adding insult to injury, NotSteve says...

"Wait, I know you, didn't you date XYZ (name deleted because he's an asshole) for a long time?"

Oh God.

More people are going to find out.

I am so happy that I am leaving the city tomorrow. Because I'm seriously considering inquiring into admission into the Witness Protection Program.