Truth #13

What is the one most embarrassing thing you have ever done?

The most embarrassing thing I’ve done seems to be a moving target. There have been moments in my life where something embarrassing has happened and I thought to myself, “This is the worst thing ever. I’ll never live this down.” only to be proven incorrect as time passes and everyone moves on. A majority of these “unforgivable” gaffs were in the awkward teenage years. But as I look back now I find them more a source of hilarity then a sore spot of skin crawling embarrassment.

One of the most embarrassing things that ever happened to me was when I was 10 years old. I had a birthday party at a hotel. I lived in a small town at the time so the hotel had an indoor pool complete with a slide, and a nearby restaurant within the hotel itself. At 10 years old, there’s nothing else you need from a hotel. I had invited most of my hockey team friends and the birthday party was a lot of fun. When it came time to leave we went to the hotel lobby and my mom settled the bill with the staff. As she was standing there I tugged on her shirt, she looked at me, and I told her I had to go to the bathroom and I’d be right back. She smiled and said, “Ok honey.” and I wandered off to the washroom.

After I completed my task I wandered back to the lobby to find it completely empty. “Odd” I thought to myself, but I rationalized that they must be waiting in the van for me, so I walked out into the parking lot. The van wasn’t where we had parked though. My heart started to beat faster and I started glancing around the parking lot quickly, running from one side to the other, checking around the corners for the van. “Maybe she moved it?” I thought to myself. “Maybe they’re playing a joke on me?” but after searching the parking lot and walking around the entire hotel and not finding the van a full out panic set in.

I ran back into the lobby and I don’t recall if I was crying or not but I do remember being upset. My mom had left me behind on my birthday. She had loaded up all of my friends into the van and drove away, leaving me with strangers in the lobby. I asked for the phone at the lobby but this was back when cell phones weren’t the norm. I called my house, and of course there was no answer. I called my best friend’s house, no answer. I called the business that my parents ran, someone else answered, my dad was off on an errand. I was alone. The receptionist started to ask questions that I don’t recall now. Probably simple things like what’s my name, where do I live, what’s my mom’s name etc. I only recall being upset. My panic had changed to fury. I was so incredibly mad and embarrassed.

The van eventually showed up at the front and my mom hopped out, nonchalantly walked up and said “Ah there you are.” as if the incident was my fault. I was so embarrassed to get into the van with my friends, all of whom knew now that my mom could so easily forget her son and leave.

But in that moment of embarrassment I was more of a victim of someone else’s error…

I supposed then there are two moments in my life that could be considered to be the most embarrassing. Both involve alcohol and were the catalyst to my non-drinking ways.

The first, in chronological order, involved a trip to the same small town that I grew up in. I had just graduated high school and it was a traumatic time for me personally. There were a few things that had happened that had caused me to swing into an emotional tailspin. I was grieving a great loss and didn’t know how to handle it. I actually recall thinking to myself that in any movie I had seen when the characters had gone through a similar situation to mine their reaction was to go to the bar and drink. So when my long time best friend invited me to come to town and hang out, go to a party, and meet the old gang I jumped at the chance.

Fast forward to mid-way through the party and I was amazingly drunk. Of course it probably wouldn’t have taken much to get me into that state. My tolerance was nearly non-existent. It’s a strange situation to be in. To know a group of people so incredibly well, but the last time I saw them all it was when I was in grade 4, with the exception of my best friend. The oddity was the girls that I recall thinking were cute when I was in grade 4, the ones that my nearly adolescent mind had found newly attractive, had grown up. They were not the little cute girls of my memory but grown young women the same age as me. Such an odd feeling. What was interesting though, is that the girls I thought were cute turned out to be even better looking.

There was one in particular that I vividly recall having a crush on when I was young. Seeing her at this party, in all of her glory was mind blowing. She had developed into an absolute stunner. But the years had passed and the same girl that I didn’t know how to talk to when I was young was just as mute-inducing as before. I recall in my drunken state taking laps around the small house that the party was in. I’d walk by her, check her out, then go through the dining room, into the kitchen, to the hall, and back to the living room to see her there again. She smiled at me each time I did a lap. I’m sure that in my inebriated state I thought I was suave and smooth, but likely in reality I looked absolutely retarded.

At some point during the night I had walked up behind her and ran my hand down the small of her back, cupped her ass, and squeezed. I think I remember her turning and looking at me as to say “Excuse me?”. I didn’t get slapped, I didn’t get pushed away, she just looked at me, then down to my arm where my hand was still firmly gripping her right buttock. I think I attempted to say “Sorry” in drunk man speak, which likely sounded like “Splary” and turned to walk away.

It wasn’t till three months later that my friend told me about what I had done. It turned out he had a university class with the girl and she had told him what I had done and they both had a good laugh about it. Seen as his revelation occured after my 2nd embarrassing drunk moment, I demanded her phone number so I could call and apologize for my behavior. She took my call, laughed about it, and told me not to worry but despite her les affaires attitude I kicked myself over and over for the stupidity of my actions.

The second embarrassing drunk moment was much worse. When I arrived back in town I was invited to a backyard party. It was a BYOB party where the last B stood for booze in this case. Since by this point I realized that I didn’t like the taste of beer, but didn’t mind vodka as long it was mixed well I had brought vodka and orange juice. The trouble was, no one at the party wanted screwdrivers. No one. At all. So faced with the prospect of bringing back a bunch of booze home, I made the decision (after several screwdrivers) to take care of the drink myself.

There was far more vodka than I was able to rightly handle and just as the first time, the moment I was drunk I became excessively flirty. I remember less about this party than the first. Little images and pieces of what happened are still retained, but there is a specific situation that do recall with a tinge of horror.

At some point during the night I was stunning myself with how I was still able to juggle even though I was clearly tipsy. This little jolt of silly was a confidence booster. The girls at the party were watching me, and at the time I had believed it to be because I was being such an amazing stud. I mean really…when you think stud…you think…drunken juggler right? *sigh* Anyways, the vast majority of the girls at the party were already attached except for a small few. Of those few, there were only a couple that were attractive. Before the end of the night I had made out with at least three of them. Excessively made out. To the point that one of my friends suggested that I take it inside.

This is where it gets bad.

When I moved inside, the girl I was making out with didn’t come with me. I didn’t realize that. So when I got to the basement and saw her there I continued the make out session. The trouble is, that the girl in the basement was completely different than the girl I was making out with in the backyard. In fact the only thing they had in common was…..they were sisters!! 0_o GAHH

Worst still, the backyard girl was in grade 11. She hadn’t graduated with us, but would be the next year.  The girl in the basement…her younger sister. GAHH!!! Luckily she was at least in grade 10, so it wasn’t too horrible, but still.

That was by far the most embarrassing thing I had done.

It was at that point that I had realized that I could never allow myself to be drunk again. I had no control. The lusty beast that was within me just could not be let loose in such a irresponsible manner. My secrecy regarding my over abundant libido  is also a direct result of this embarrassment.

Now though, I’ve reached a point in my life where I’m comfortable with myself. I’m able to laugh at my own mistakes. Things that would have made me cower and shudder, I now recall with a chuckle. The moment you realize that you are a faulty human being with weaknesses and you are able to accept that, you can move on and enjoy your own stupidity when it occurs from time to time.


Next question to answer?

4 thoughts on “Truth #13

      1. Midnight Man, You asked if you should record one of your stories. The answer is yes. However, it would probably be easier for you to do if it were in 3rd person. You write in 1st. Another thought I had was that you should write screenplays. Why? Because there are a lot of bad porn movies. We need more good ones. I am a woman and I don’t even bother with flix because they tend to, shall we say, lack finesse, something which you do have. I stick to “clit lit”, which by the way is the fastest growing genre. I think there might be some opportunity for you. There is a good blog for screenwriters. I make a reference to it on my latest blog entry. Go into the story or something of the sort.


        1. I had thought about writing a screenplay before, but I never did because…..well…because…I don’t have a hot clue in hell how to write one. lol

          I’ll see if I can write in the 3rd person for a short coming up…if I remember. I don’t know why I always right in the 1st….it just….seems easier? Not sure why.


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