I was about ten, I think.
There was a kid in my class who vaguely irritated me. I have no idea why. One day, I remember deciding I would bully him, my logic being that, as he was slightly taller than me, it was only a matter of time before he got the same idea.

I approached him in the playground and insulted him. I don't remember the words, and they're not important. He looked worried. I poured forth more verbal abuse. I felt emboldened.

He clearly didn't want any trouble, but bloodlust was upon me by this point, and I would continue. I looked him straight in the eye and told him to lick my shoe. He looked down at my shoes, which were covered in the dry summer dust you pick up when you're a kid. He looked back at me, worried, confused, uncertain. I repeated my command. There were other kids watching now. It wasn't until he actually knelt down and did it that I realised what I was doing.

Christ, the shame was unbelievable. I can't tell you what he looked like as he stood up. I couldn't look away from the dark, wet patch on the toecap of my shoe. He didn't say anything. I couldn't look at him.

I wanted to apologise, tell him I was wrong, tell him he'd done nothing wrong, hadn't deserved it, but I couldn't say a word. I just walked away past a line of curious faces and never went near the boy again.

I never did apologise, so I'm doing it now. I'm sorry, Jonathan. I was wrong, and you didn't deserve it.
(Sir Harrington Titsmith disgraced himself on, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 13:45, 10 replies)

No.
After it happened my entire world crumbled. I left school at 16, hated and unqualified. I ended up taking all sorts of massive drugs and only now am getting back on track with the help of a puppy named Dave. You ruined my fucking life and you're apologising to me on B3ta? You don't get to apologise; you horrible, evil little man.
(ElectricSexPants would like to be the Sultan of something, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 13:55, closed)

Different Jonathan.
(Sir Harrington Titsmith disgraced himself on, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 13:58, closed)

Ross?

( brown-wings Made with three kinds of butter, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 14:03, closed)

Creek.
(Sir Harrington Titsmith disgraced himself on, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 14:05, closed)

I'm pretty sure it was you,
Alan McNorris of Pembrokeshire!
(ElectricSexPants would like to be the Sultan of something, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 14:11, closed)

Nope. Sorry. I can apologise on his behalf if you like, though:

"Soz.

Lots of love,

Alan"
(Sir Harrington Titsmith disgraced himself on, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 14:15, closed)

It doesn't feel right...
Could you possibly 'be' Alan a little bit more? Maybe wear a wig of long blonde hair, a baggy polo shirt and small circular glasses?

Also this was in 1954 so could you maybe enunciate like someone from that era?

kkthx
(ElectricSexPants would like to be the Sultan of something, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 14:35, closed)

Certainly.
"Goodness me, these post-war years are austere. I do hope a cultural revolution comes along in the next ten years or so and shakes things up a bit by embracing largely indiscriminate sexual intercourse and the use of recreational drugs.

By the way, I'm sorry I made you like my brogues.

Stiff upper lip, old man,

Alan"
(Sir Harrington Titsmith disgraced himself on, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 15:04, closed)

My good man,

I'm afraid I rather despised your particular style of brogue, therefore your attempts to make me like them were a tad unwelcome. No man may tell me what to do. I shall take the next opportunity to hit you with a stick.

Incidentally, 'sticking the man' would be a top notch catchphrase for said recreational drug use and rutting. I feel it could use some polish, though.
(ElectricSexPants would like to be the Sultan of something, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 15:16, closed)

If you didn't like them, WHY WERE YOU LICKING THEM?







I feel I may have trivialised my original post with this banter. Believe it or not, it was actually quite heartfelt. Cathartic, even, though I still feel shitty about it.
(Sir Harrington Titsmith disgraced himself on, Fri 9 Jul 2010, 15:25, closed)