When I was twelve, I got stuck in the public swimming pool. My, but that paints a comical picture, doesn't it? It wasn't quite that bad, actually. What really happened is that as I was climbing out of the side of the pool (for some reason I opted not to use the ladder), my knee slipped inside this ceramic lip that went all the way around the inside of the pool, and no matter what I tried, it wouldn't slip back out again.

My friend went and got the lifeguard, and all of the other lifeguards came over, and none of them could get my leg out. It was a big fracas, and a rather sizeable crowed gathered around to watch. The fire department was called, and eventually they got my leg out of there, with minimal damage to both my knee and the pool. My mom had arrived by then, and she led me to the car, limping, weeping, and humiliated, and took me home.

As I waited to be rescued, I kept a vigilant eye out for anyone who might be there from my school. In my twelve-year-old mind, the absolute worst thing that could happen would be for this to get back to the kids at school. Forget that if the lifeguard hadn't come when he did I might have lost my grip on the side of the pool, slipped back into the pool, broken my leg and/or drowned. Forget the possibility that they would have to cut out a chunk of the pool to release my leg and then bill my parents for the repairs. Nevermind that they may simply opt to break my leg to get it out of there. That didn't matter, as long as no one from my school knew what happened.

Besides my friend and her little brother, both of whom were only in town for the summer, I saw nobody I knew. The most embarassing experience of my life, and I was going to get by without anyone knowing about it. I swore my friend to secrecy, went home, and put the whole thing behind me.

The next day, my ordeal made the front page of the local paper.

The editor, who was also our neighbor, had called my mom to get permission to print my name, me being a minor and all. Without consulting me, she'd consented. She thought I'd be pleased. It's not every day you get to have your name printed on the front page of the paper.

That afternoon, the phone calls started. By the time school started, every body knew. And nobody ever forgot. My senior year in high school, people still brought it up. To this day, my friends like to remind me about it whenever they need a good laugh.

Thanks, Mom.