Email can be a dangerous thing.

During a rare moment of downtime on Thursday, I decided to reply to an email from a friend (female) of mine.

While I was writing the email, the phone rang and I was briefly distracted. After the phone call, I returned to the email and finished writing it.

The topic of the email was relatively general, but I was so impressed by the humor and wit in my email I decided to share it with some of my other friends. Unfortunately, I forgot the original email I was replying to was still attached to the new email.

Only after I sent my email did I realize the crucial error I made. I quickly sent a second email in an attempt at damage control, but it was too late and the smart-alec responses started coming.

Now there was nothing especially juicy or too embarrassing in the original email, but it was still personal and I felt pretty foolish.

My email debacle brought back some memories of other embarrassing moments.

One Sunday afternoon at the beginning of my sophomore year in high school I was playing tennis at the park with a friend of mine. While my friend and I were playing we noticed a group of girls walking towards the park.

Most of the girls were freshmen at my school and this was a perfect opportunity to impress the new girls with my brilliant athletic talents. After we finished playing, I hopped on my bike and started pedaling home, making sure to avoid the girls at all costs because I was too scared to actually talk to them.

I had to ride my bike over a grassy area and past a few tall pine trees before hitting the street. Trying to look cool on my Schwinn as I glanced over at the girls, I rode over some large roots from one of the trees. Suddenly, my front tire twisted to the left, while the rest of the bike jerked to the right. I tried with every ounce of effort and bicycle-riding skill I possessed to regain control, but it was too late.

Time appeared to stop as I fell. While I was falling, I realized I would have to transfer to a new school or leave the country because I could never face any of those girls again.

As I hit the ground, my tennis racket and other equipment went flying in every direction. I could have broken an arm or crushed a kneecap, but nothing was going to stop me from grabbing my stuff and hopping back on my bike with amazing speed. I think my bike actually began to lift off while I pedaled home.

Another embarrassing moment occurred a few years ago following a Duke – Carolina basketball game.

The Heels were especially talented that season and I knew a wild celebration would occur in Chapel Hill if they won. Sure I had already graduated, but was I living in Raleigh and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to relive the glory days. So my trusty sidekick and I drove over to Chapel Hill to watch the game with some friends who were still in school.

The Heels crushed the Devils and everyone jubilantly made their way to Franklin Street. As we descended upon the party and over a sidewalk, I lost my balance. The result wasn’t pretty and in the contest of the street versus my forehead, the street won.

Unfazed for the moment, I continued celebrating.

The next morning brought me back to reality. I remembered I had to meet my parents at noon to drive to Charleston, South Carolina for a wedding. To add insult to injury, I headed to the wedding dateless following my girlfriend finally wising-up and kicking me to the curb earlier in the week.

Needless to say, the large gash on my forehead drew a few stares and several looks of disapproval.

At least one of the partygoers grasped the situation and provided a welcome moment of humor. He walked up to me, shook my hand and said three words, &uot;Duke – Carolina game&uot;. I shook my head yes. Enough said.

Hopefully my embarrassing moments provided a good laugh for everyone.