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This is a question My Greatest Regrets

When I was still quite young, I was offered the chance to spend several weeks in the South of France. My Uncle was going to drive me down in his vintage MG sports car. There would be sun, sand and, crucially, French girls.

I was too scared of the French girls to go.

What do you regret not doing?

(, Thu 5 Oct 2006, 13:25)
Pages: Latest, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, ... 1

This question is now closed.

Good Charlotte
When I was a student, another much younger college student tricked her way into my room, clearly distressed claiming there was a peeping-tom outside her window watching her through the gap at the bottom of her short curtains. Of course I comforted her like a perfect gent which seemed to work. She returned to her room later and I went to bed. Within five minutes Charlotte was knocking on my door again asking if she could sleep on my floor as she was too frightened to sleep in her room. I agreed and she brought in her duvet in to my room and laid it on the floor next to my bed. Again, like a perfect gent, I suggested she have the bed and I sleep on the floor but she refused.

Charlotte went to the bathroom to clean her teeth, and I got in to bed. She returned a short while later smiled at me and switched out the light. I heard her get undress and wondered what she looked like naked. Charlotte was a tall athletic young girl with a great figure and all the males in the shared student house were beguilled by her large breasts and curvy bottom. I lay there most of the night thinking up ways to get Charlotte in to my bed without seeming like a complete sex maniac before eventually falling asleep.

I was awoken at dawn by Charlotte returning from the bathroom. She closed the door quietly, dressed in only her in her underwear. She looked over to my bed as if to see if I was awake. I didn't have my glasses on so couldn't see her clearly through my sleepy eyes, but what I saw I liked. I also made sure Charlotte knew I was awake and that I had seen her return - she seemed a little embarrassed, but not too much for us to start chatting. She sat on the end of my bed and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. I was about to joke she shoul;d get under the covers with me, when there was a loud knock on the front door. It was a friend of Charlotte's. Another student in the house opened the front door to Caroline, who was now knocking on Charlotte's door along the hall.

"I'll go and get rid of her" Charlotte said, which I thought was a bit strange, but thought no more of it. She put on one of my shirts and left the room.

A few minutes later Charlotte returned apologising saying she'd have to leave as Caroline had brought her some bad news which she need to attend to. She removed my shirt and smiled at me as she pulled on her small t-shirt and jeans. Charlotte apologised again and leaned over to kiss me.

"Maybe next time", she said. I was left speachless. Did she mean what I thought she meant? There would have been some sex? I closed my eyes and silently screamed.

Charlotte moved out a few days later and I didn't see her again for over 10 years by which time she was married and the landlady of a pub. I met her and her husband when I was out with a mutual friend who confided in me that Charlotte had planned the whole 'peeping-tom' episode to get into my room that night.

The moral of the story is - don't be a gentleman of there's a an opportunity of sex involved with a beautiful young girl who has the hots for you. Chances like this are far and few between and you'll most likely regret it. I know I do.

My only consolation is a photograph of Charlotte in her underwear. I know I shouldn't post it, but I might if enough people request it.
(, Wed 11 Oct 2006, 5:31, Reply)
Not buying sex dot co dot uk when I was offered it in 1996 for around five grand. I tried to chip him down to something i could afford but he sold it to someone else a few weeks later for seven grand. Yeah I could probably still be living off that investment. Bah.
(, Wed 11 Oct 2006, 5:30, Reply)
when I was about 15 or so, I was doing a Sunday morning paper round, getting up every week at 6.45 to trudge around carrying a heavy bag for little pay. Now, this story takes place in the winter, when it was still pitch black other than street lights at this time in the morning. On my way down, I find that I'm walking behind another a fairly pretty girl of about my age, who I recognise as another delivery agent. Not wanting to startle her, I stay some distance behind.

A couple of minutes later, I espy a gang of obviously intoxicated youths of about 18 or 19 stumbling along on the other side of the road. They've obviously seen this girl, and I speed up, sensing some sort of unpleasantness. Sure enough, as they get closer, they start shouting stupid, drunken remarks about what they would like to do with her, mostly involving what they describe as "9 inch hard ones". Yeah, right. I have just about caught up at this time, and can see that she is not taking it well. She is shaking, walking very fast, almost in tears.

Walking alongside, I make sure she knows that I am there, and she recognises me. She mutters a few words of contempt about the idiots across the road, but is obviously still upset and embarassed by the whole thing. But do I do anything? Comfort her? Maybe put my hand on her shoulder? Say any soothing words? No, I act like an moron and just walk there alongside her.

She quit her round that day.

What I regret is not doing something, anything at all, to let her know that she was not by herself, to make her feel a little bit better. It does not sound like a big thing now, but to her at the time it obviously was - she was nearly crying, and I never saw her again. I wish that I had in some way lessened the blow.

Right, enough seriousness and gloom. Go back to your stories of lasses you wish you'd shagged.
(, Wed 11 Oct 2006, 2:33, Reply)
Being a good girl
When I worked in the IT department of one of the big 4 supermarkets (back when this meant spending 8 hours a day surfing for Keanu Reeves photos and precisely 5 minutes doing any work) I was entrusted with setting up the whole head office with intranet access. In those naive days (mid 90s) everyone had the same password until they changed it. One boring evening during dull nightshift I tried out the login for the CEO and realised he hadn't even tried it out, which was no surprise. Logged in with his name I could have posted anything at all... but I chickened out and just posted "Hello, hope you are all enjoying the new intranet" then logged off in a cold sweat.
(, Wed 11 Oct 2006, 0:52, Reply)
Not Dumping / Dumping

Not dumping mandrillous bird for two years (because she was a regular shag) who for example:

1) Cut her finger on a crisp packet, cried and made me take her to hosiptal thus ruining a perfectly good Friday night. (she was 18 by the way)

2) Came out for a drink with me and my dad, put a bar stool on her foot, cried and made me take her home after 10 mins. (19 at this time)

3) Ate a green peppercorn. I told her they were highly poisonous. Cue crying and demanding immediate trip to hospital again.

Dumped her eventually mind you. Wish I had much earlier. Then to make matters worse, soon after met beautiful older women with nice flat, who let me move in. Best sex of my life...ever...and we got on really well....great sense of humour...and I fucked it up by spending all my time playing pool and drinking beer with losers at the pub. She still put up with it for a year...but I cant believe what an asshole I was, most of the time, under the age of 30. Trying to get it right these days.
(, Wed 11 Oct 2006, 0:18, Reply)
shut your mouth
Life is about collecting ‘tick in the boxes’.
Each box is a unique experience (good or bad), and can be classed bronze, silver, gold or, the absolute pinnacle, platinum.
Bronze – doubling the speed limit
Silver – being arrested
Gold – swimming with sharks
Platinum – twins.

Anyway, this is the story of my biggest regret, the one chance that I had to complete a particular platinum tick… and I missed it.

I was sitting outside a pub in London Bridge one summer lunchtime with a couple of senior colleagues, one is the classic ex-public school boy, youngest ever fellow of the institute of engineers etc, the other is a working class boy done good, and me, the office youngster.

Across the road I noticed a 6ft+ black man walking down the road wearing a knee length red leather coat, big sunglasses, overly patterned shirt and a mini afro.

He looks just like Shaft says I.

The public school-boy type looks over and said, completely innocently as only the posh and overly wealthy can be: “who’s Shaft?”

I panicked and spluttered into my pint.

Working class lad calm as you like answers “He’s a baaaaad mother”

I almost cried.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 22:28, Reply)
I'd just turned 15, and...
I'd managed to sneak myself into a bar in town one night where I met this rather gorgeous bit of totty, myself under the guise of an 18 year old student. anyways, by the end of the night i'd been invited back to hers for more drinking, and where I was very much expecting to pop the proverbial cherry.
I got there, sat down with a glass of some concoction of spirits, and waited while she fiddled about in the bedroom. Then when she came out practically naked, I decided that I was suddenly all too tired to be in this situation. So with the most vague excuses I could think of, I left, my shiny pants throbbing in complaint. I remember the taxi driver on the way home quite rightly laughing at me too, the bastard.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 22:10, Reply)
Historic regret
Dumping Hannah Morgan in my teens. She seemed so sad and upset at the time, I still feel guilty about it some 15 years later. My guilt is tempered by the regret of dumping her all those years ago only to end up with the miserable argumentative cow I'm with now. You won in the end Hannah.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 21:46, Reply)
My Greatest Regret
was blindly stumbling around the interweb in my ignorant bliss, until by chance happened on a stange photo of a great white attacking a south african navy chopper crew under the golden gate bridge. Curious, and slighty scared i followed the breadcrumb trail to a site called "bee-three-tee-aa" where rape, and child molestation are laughed at, Pictures of kittens are cooed over, where the quo randomly appear before impending disaster, and where a mysterious beast called the Magic Donkey resides. Yes, my biggest, greatest and most fearsome regret was not listening to enough johhny cash.

oh yes, and im sorry for shagging that five year old up the shitter with a weasel and toilet roll tube....

And for killing JFK...

and the whole Iraq war thing...

And putting that fucking iceberg out to melt in front of the Titanic...

And disobeying the "no Smoking" sign on the Hindenburg....

And leaving the landing lights on In the World Trade Center on the 10th...

i may shut up now

*crawls back under rock*
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 21:11, Reply)
My biggest regret
Is thinking It was just a fart!
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 20:44, Reply)
Spice Power
When I was 15 me and my two friends were drinking mad dog 40/40 and smoking soap bar, we decided it would be fun to get a tattoo from the famous Jacks Tattoo shop in Woolwich.

The classy establishment offered tattoo's at one pound per word.

I came out with the biggest regret of my life, there tattoed around my belly button were the words MADE IN HEAVEN I reckon though I got off lightly, one mate had MADE IN ENGLAND and the creme de la creme was left to my other mate who had SPICE POWER!

My £3 regret is gonna cost about £400 to get removed according to the the tattoo removal clinic.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 20:31, Reply)
Me greatest regret
is taking out a store card with ACME. I've spent a fortune in there, buying fake holes, hundreds of tins of paint, rockets, cannons, cannonballs, anvils (oh the anvils!) and they all seem to backfire on my ass every time.

I'm now a registered anemic and my fir is coming out in clumps. On top of that, ACME charge 29.8% interest on their store card, which is a fucking nightmare to clear. At this rate, it'll take me until the year 2436 to clear this debt.

In retrospect, it would have been alot easier to just stick to McDonalds rather than catching that nippy cunt. Hope he dies of foot-n-mouth.

Your's sincerely,

Wile E.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 19:34, Reply)
Do you want a bigger p3n15?
For the last few months, I've been getting these emails from drug companies and generally nice people. They have been offering me great opportunities to get my hands on herbal viagra and penile enhancements! I think my biggest regret is not taking advantage of these offers, because I could be a sex god by now.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 19:11, Reply)
Geoff Boycott
(oooh, my second ever message)

...I wish I'd reciprocated the 'Fuck Off!' I got from Geoff Boycott (ex England cricketer, now Sky pundit etc) when, as an innocent 11-year-old, he non-too politely told me where to go when I asked for his autograph.

What a Nice Guy!
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 18:42, Reply)
i was on my cousins trampoline in her garden and i had some pins on
my top that were diggin into my sides so she said "just take your top
off no one will see and you've got your bra on" so i took my top off

right at the same time a crowded train went passed.

she has a train track goin past her house!

(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 18:07, Reply)
At least 10 years of fun
Flashback to the mid 90s: I regret not leaving my wife when, while discussing our forthcoming engagement, she told me that she had fucked a guy we both knew from the internet. She had to tell me because she couldn't get engaged without me knowing.

Flashback to the late 90s: I regret not leaving my wife when, mere weeks before our wedding, I discovered evidence of her having an online affair with someone from Canada.

Flashback to the early 00s: I regret not leaving my wife when, after she had lied to me for a year, she admitted to me that she had slept with the guy she stayed with on holiday - he was an old friend of ours, and they both lied to me 'to protect me'.

I did leave my wife at the end of last year, and I am still hurting. If I had the self-esteem back then I could have saved myself a lot of time and hassle. The emotional abuse I suffered with her is still being worked on. Whee.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 17:41, Reply)
another regret - skinny dipping
just been reminded of this one...
Some years ago, on a very warm May night, a group of friends and I decided to have a beach bbq. All very good fun, lots of beer and wine and jumping around to get away from exploding stones - shingle beach. Anyway, someone had the bright idea of going skinny dipping....cue rapid removal of nearly everyone's clothes...except mine. I would not remove a stitch. So I looked after everyone else's clothes...and I didn't even go through the pockets or run off with them....
I wish I'd gone now....I was just too shy.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 17:38, Reply)
Mrs Thatcher
When I was about 11 in the early 80s Margaret Thatcher did a day tour of our county and came to my school. I happened to be in the drama club at the time and she decided to pay us a visit during rehersals. It was very informal and she chatted to a small group of us while Dennis doddered about in the background. I was a bit of an early developer and knew enough about politics to realise that she was bad news for the country. Ever since then I've kicked myself for not taking the opportunity to murder her. I'd have saved the country from at least 8 years of Thatcherite misery, changed global history and have probably got off scott-free due to being under 14. I'd probably be doing the after dinner circuit today instead of slaving away at a proper job.
However that's not my biggest regret- My biggest regret is not having a larger penis.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 17:33, Reply)
My biggest regret is when i went to disneyland when i was about 9. They have a big procession type thing, with all the floats and stuff. Just like a carnival. I stood on the other side of the road to my family watching, and one of the dancing girls asked me to dance with her in the procession, but I was too scared... Wish I had gone!
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 17:02, Reply)
I really regret
never having a Commodore 64. All the cool kids had one. What did I have? A Commodore 16 + 4 with tape player and rubber arrow keys on the keyboard. Some games did come out on both C16+4 and the C64, but they were never as good.

I did partially save myself a bit and replace it with a Speccy +2A (with built in tape deck)...ahhhh, those were the days. 20 minutes of loading to make me eyes bleed with monochrome action.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 17:00, Reply)
being still quite young myself my regrets dont go much further than: Shit i really wish i bought the sub roll instead of that amusingly
large drink cup. It was frecking 1.20 but you can have refills which wasnt much use as i felt sick after drinking half of it.
This doesnt really compare much to the other
regrets people have sent but what ya gonna do?
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 16:51, Reply)
Regret yet to happen...
I've split up with the ex-girlfriend (hot, way above my league, I think she settled) of 2 years, although we're still 'seeing' each other.

On the other hand I have the opportunity right now to 'see' another lass, less hot, but right dirty etc.

If I see this other lass, its over completely with the ex, whereas if I continue seeing the ex, I'll miss out on a really filthy bird.

Which ever I choose, I'm bound to regret it.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 16:43, Reply)
reeeeally regret
not taking a year off after uni to go travelling. being a very spoiled child from a wealthy area, nearly all of my friends did it.

but no. i was so overdrawn and my degree in london had cost so much that i didn't even dare bring it up to the parents. decided to go straight back to my old job as an estate agent. which is how i ended up a bitter late-20s lawyer without any "when i was stoned off my gourd in thailand after 3 months lying on a yacht..." anecdotes. bah.

oh well, who am i kidding? no way could i have handled the backpacking life. if i can't plug my GHDs in and have fresh underwear twice a day (through choice, not cos i need it), i can't stay there!!!
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 16:42, Reply)
Buying asda value cheese
it taste shit on toast i have just found out.
not even my pepper can hide the taste.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 16:33, Reply)
When I was 14 I had the chance to go to Holland and play for PSV Eindhoven’s youth team.

Well, when I say "I had the opportunity", I mean that I would have been put forward to go to the PSV School of excellence if my Mum had died.

See the thing was coming from a single-parent family my uncle who lives in Eindhoven told me, on a jolly jaunt over in Holland for my Gran's funeral, that I wasn't to worry if anything happened to my mum. If she died then he'd adopt me and put me get me into the football school.

Well, given that my Mum was in no way ill and is still alive and well 14 years on I didn't get the chance... but then again I never got signed up by an English team either so can't have been that good.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 16:27, Reply)
Almost have it all
I am a volcanologist. I have made love to thousands of beautiful women and enjoyed a career of fulfilment and great wealth. All my relationships have been problem-free, my childhood was delightful and my family perfect.

But I have ginger hair.

I regret my Scottish ancestry.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 16:22, Reply)
not many regrets in my life
a combination of low expectations and the fact that I usually get what I want, but there is one really big regret that I know I'll never put right.

All through my childhood and youth I wanted to be a Volcanologist. I was obsessed with it. Travelled to Iceland to see real volcanoes, read everything there was to read, including things I didn't understand. Unfortunately, I just wasn't good enough at science. My talents are elsewhere, and I just couldn't get the sorts of grades you need at A-level to study volcanology. So there I was, unable to do what I always wanted to do, and without a backup plan. Went to university out of a general feeling that I really ought to, studied politics, got a decent degree, but still don't have the faintest idea what I want to be in life. I'm currently a musician, a job I fell into after my degree because the gigs were there. I love the job, but it's not really a career in the long term. I've felt totally directionless since I realised I couldn't be what I wanted to be.

So there you are. Not in any way funny, but something I felt I should say.
(, Tue 10 Oct 2006, 16:13, Reply)

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