Childhood Trauma, Revisited.

Hey all!  It's Friday, and you know that means I'm linking up with MiMi for her weekly meme "F Bomb Friday".  I'm just cool like that. 

Have you ever told somebody something, and almost immediately regretted telling them that?  I'm not talking about sticking your foot in your mouth, and saying the wrong thing.  I'm talking about telling someone something, trusting that they will have a maturity level higher than that of a Kindergartener, but you were unfortunately proven wrong. 

By now, if you read my blog on a regular basis, you know that my real name is Samantha.  I don't go by it, but whatever.  In my family, we (or at least I) have gone through quite the progressionn of nicknames.  Finally, one just kind of "stuck" for both of my parents.  My dad calls me "Mantha" for obvious reasons.  My mom, on the other hand, was a little bit more creative in her nickname progression...
Samantha---> Sam--->Sambo--->Simbo--->BIMBO. 
That's right.  My nickname from my mother is "Bimbo" or "Bim" for short.  I could go into the embarrassment of having to explain to my friends why my mother called me "Bim", but since that has nothing to do with the story, I will just let you use your imaginations.  It. Was. Not. Fun.

So, a week ago, Thursday, I was at a church activity.  This is a gathering of women ages 18 and up.  For our activity, we played a "getting to know you" game, and ate chocolate fondue.  The game was akin to "speed dating".  We had a finite amount of time with each person, and had to use that time to get to know something about them. 

The gong rang, and I switched seats, to find myself face to face with who I will now refer to as "slapstick" because she apparently thinks she's very hilarious.  The question I chose to ask her?  "What is your nickname?"  Now, the name she used to introduce herself was a nickname, technically, so I thought that would be easy.  She gave a different answer though, one that I wish I could recall now.  She then mustered all of her creative energy to ask me a completely unique question.  "What is your nickname?" she asked.  Feeling like I was safe amongst grown women, I revealed all of my nicknames, including "Bimbo". 

Well, Slapstick found this to be HILARIOUS!!!  Her next question was an obvious one.  "Were you a BAD teenager?"

What the...!  I don't believe that my "wild oats" (as if I had any) were an appropriate subject of conversation for a church event, but I explain that no, it was a "nickname progression".  I even go so far as to explain the process, and how it had really been embarrassing for me as a kid.  Slapstick is in stitches!  I knew I had made a BIG mistake.  She's laughing, and repeating the name as loud as she can through her uncontrollable giggles. 

At last, I was saved by the bell...or gong.  I have never jumped up so fast in my whole life.  The rest of the game progressed smoothly, and I thought I was in the clear. 

At the end of the night, a good friend and I were at a table at the far side of the gym, playing "Uno" when I hear Slapstick bidding people farewell at the opposite end of the room.  Everything went into slow motion as I heard her exclaim "BYE BIMBO!" above the chatter from everyone else. 
I did that maneuver, where I sunk down in my chair, and covered my face with my Uno cards, in hopes that nobody would know she was referring to me.  That's when she said EVEN LOUDER "BYE BIM!" and waved emphatically until she received a courtesy wave of acknowledgement from me. 
WHAT THE CRAP!!!  When did I flash back to elementary school?!
Yeah, I'm 99.9% sure I will NEVER add her as a friend on Facebook...

Now, try to control your laughter long enough to head on over to MiMi's to read other people's tales of utter embarrassment. 
Oh!  And please don't call me Bim...