The year is 2007. A young boy emerges from a crowded movie theater. In his hand are the melted remnants of a blue ICEE and in his head thoughts about how "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" was a terribly disappointing adaptation of the excellent novel. He reaches the snack bar before the dome lid of the cup, held precariously in his hand, detaches and leaves the cup to the will of gravity. The boy looks down and watches his cup hit the ground. As it makes contact with the floor, the blue liquid inside splashes up into the air hitting the boy directly in the eyes. He reels back, eyes burning from the mixture of blue dye number seven and high fructose corn syrup. He blinks feverishly, but it is no use--the sweet concoction has blinded him. He quickly makes for the bathroom, stumbling first into a wall. He rinses his eyes out in the sink, and then turns to find himself in the women's room. Thoroughly embarrassed, he quickly exits to find his family, who are snickering at the ordeal they just witnessed.

I was that boy, and the embarrassment of that strange accident could have ended there. The witnesses would soon forget what they saw and they would move on, but as everyone laughed on the car ride home, I realized something: it was funny. Whether it is eating too much before we go to the dentist and vomiting on the hygienist or replying "yes" when someone asks how we are doing, we all have our embarrassing moments, so why is it such a big deal?

The emotion of embarrassment has evolved in humans over the centuries as a way for us to instantly convey the sentiment of "oops, my bad." Our red cheeks are in essence a physical apology for going against a social norm. In this sense, embarrassment helps humans live together in groups. However, in modern society, there are a lot of social norms and, therefore, a lot of embarrassment. This is problematic because embarrassment is not a fun emotion to feel. So what do we do when the overpowered sink sprays our crotches with water? How about laugh about it.

I do not consider myself to be a smooth person by any definition. I once had a 10-minute conversation about the plot of a book with a cashier at a Books-A-Million because I thought she had asked her coworker to remind her to read it. What she had actually said was, "remind me to reSTOCK 'The Silmarillion.'" However, I discovered that my lack of suavity is useful for the same reason that there have been 26 seasons of "America's Funniest Home Videos": people love to laugh at the embarrassment of others. As a comedian, I find personal stories of embarrassment golden. They are universally entertaining and not at the audience's expense because the joke's on me. So the next time your pants fall down in public, just think, "this will make a great story some day" (also don't forget to pull them back up).