TAG! You're IT!

I was only trying to be nice when I moved forward one row at church to whisper to a lady, "I can see the tag on the back of your shirt. Unless that's the new style, it might be on backwards."
"Oh, dear," the white-haired lady said, pulling her sweater from the back of her seat up over her shoulders.
"Don't worry," I assured her. "I put my shirt on inside out yesterday and didn't know it until my sister told me."
"Honestly," the woman said, hunching herself smaller. "I need a keeper."
"No, you don't," I assured her. "I do it all the time. I button my buttons wrong, too."
She was too immersed in her embarrassment to say anything.
I assure you, if you ever see my shirt on inside out, I'd like to know about it. The same goes for food in my teeth, dog poo on my shoe, and any length of toilet paper trailing out the back of my clothes. I mean, if you're my friend, you're not going to let me wander in public like that, are you?
This incident reminds me of the time I went to speak as a professional author. I sat waiting for my turn, smiling and happy to be there, when a lady leaned over and said, "Your dress is unzipped." It was a side zipper, so I quickly slid it upward just before they called my name.
"I'm so excited to be asked to speak," I said into the microphone. "I was equally excited that my dress felt kind of loose, which meant I'd lost a few extra pesky pounds. Then I discovered my dress was unzipped. When I zipped it up, there went all my weight loss. But I'm still happy to be here."
I suppose we could solve the inside out clothes problem by stuffing our closets with that nifty reversible clothing! Then the only thing I'd have to worry about is putting my shirt on upside down!
Would you be embarrassed if someone told you your shirt was inside out or backwards?

One Shoe Prayer

I was happy to say the prayer at church. What I wasn't happy about is that one of my shoes fell off when I stood up to pray. What the...? My first impulse was to turn back and bend over to get it. The very next flash of thought was how awkward that would be. The third flash (happened faster than the blink of an eye) was the question, "How reverent is it to pray with one shoe off and one shoe on? Diddle Diddle Dumpling, my son John." The people in back couldn't see my bare foot. The people in front were supposed to have their eyes closed.
So I folded my arms, bowed my head, and prayed. On some words, my voice strained against a giggle rising in my throat, but I hoped listeners would mistake the change in tone for heartfelt emotion.
Amen
What awkward situation have you found yourself in?

An unexpected shower

I don't know about those automatic bathroom fixtures. You know, the ones where you just wave your hands, or your backside, depending on which commodity you're using, and it automatically does what it's supposed to? Flushing, dispensing water, soap, towels, or hot air are things I'd really rather do myself. I mean, I've stood in a bathroom stall before, waiting for things to disappear before I unlocked the door. And waiting. And waiting. Until, finally, FLOOSH! There it goes, and I can leave at last.
One time, I went into a restroom that had an automatic flusher, an automatic faucet, and an automatic soap dispenser, so naturally when I needed a towel, I just waved my hands over the magic sensor... but where was it? I felt like a mime as I ran my hands around the front, sides, and bottom of the towel dispenser without actually touching it.
Then I saw the lever.
Oh, I was supposed to push the lever MANUALLY to dispense a towel. I'm sure there was a hidden camera in there somewhere.
This Christmas, we went to Temple Square. There was a line in the ladies' bathroom, so when I got done with the automatic flush toilet that was reluctant to flush, I wondered if any of the waiting ladies were desperate. I quickly pushed a button on the toilet that I thought might flush it, but it turned out to be the sensor. So, putting modesty aside, I pushed out of the door, shrugged, and said, "It's supposed to flush automatically, but it's not doing its job."
Then I hurried to the sink and stuck my hands beneath the faucet. No water came out. In a hurry to get away before the lady who'd gone into my un-flushed stall came out, I moved my hands up and down, touching the faucet on each upsweep. Well, that's when the water came gushing out, spraying out from the pressure of my hands like a hose all over the mirror and the lady standing at the sink next to me.
"Oops!" I cried. "I'm so sorry!"
The last thing I heard as I fled was laughter, followed by the blessed words, "That's okay."