horrendous. simply horrendous.
as i posted in "inappropriate crushes", i was totally and utterly smitten with my historyteacher. bells ringing, birds tweeting, me blushing every time he came anywhere near me. and the entire school knew about it and ripped the piss mercilessly. usually in the middle of lessons.

so when i was about 14, we went on an overnight history trip to wales. we went to a medieval banquet, all dressed up (apart from one gimp whose parents wouldn't spring for the costume hire, so he was in school uniform. ouch) and then stayed in a castle youth hostel. the next day we were to study a castle all day.

i never have been able to help myself (unless it's to more wine or chocolate) and i brought this on my own head, i think. when the divine mr d asked for some volunteers to go on the chugging minibus instead of the coach with him, i elbowed my friends and we were in there! result!! how happy was i, casting covert and swooning looks at his beautiful face in the rearview mirror.

until approximately 15 mins after we set off, when the entire bus of about 20 students started singing "rswipe and mr d. sitting in a tree..." and so on. all the way to wales, or so it felt. he was bright red, grinning like a loon, and mounting every kerb with embarrassment. i was in a puddle under the seat, walkman on full whack to drown out the horror.

you'd think it couldn't get any more adolescently scarring, but that was just the appetiser in the restaurant of pain. after the banquet, the minibus kids got back to the hostel first due to mr d being a bit of a speed demon. eager to get to the antiquated bathroom before the rest got back, but desperate to get out of the stupid medieval dress, i wriggled into my nightie. doom.

by mistake i had packed a very inappropriate for my age slithery peach satin number that my grandad had bought me (please don't ask!), which clung unashamedly to my then very flat chest and skinny thighs. the latter still being fetchingly clad in black holdups and heels as it was a stone floor and i didn't want to go bare foot.

i ran down the stairs, cleaned teeth etc. then, leaving the bathroom and grubbing around in my bag for something, i quite literally sashayed smack. bang. into mr d. he was pacing around waiting for the coach to return and was understandably annoyed at having a seductively dressed scarlet faced teen bang into him non-existent cleavage first and fall over, legs akimbo. he looked at me, and his amazing blue eyes almost popped out of his head with horror.

"you... you... what are you DOING?? oh, get back to bed!" he moaned. i fled. it was only later that i realised he thought i'd probably been trying to seduce him...

trying? pah! if i'd ever really tried, he'd have - well, as he turned out to have been gay all along, probably my only chance would have been to turn round and bend over!!

apologies for length, but you've saved me a fortune on therapy xx
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 7 Dec 2006, 18:08, Reply)