Everyone I know, knows this...
So a little self-outage. I've even had people I barely know bring this story up.

Anyway back in the golden days of University my long-term girlfriend had just ditched me and hooked up with another guy from my course. I wasn't expecting this at all and of course recovered in time honoured tradition by getting completely bladdered for a while.

On reflection this is my first bit of shame as it ruined my degree somewhat and I didn't achieve what I had been earmarked to do. Still I'm content now. I digress...

About a month later and my best mate was away at home in London so I head out with his girlfriend and one of her mates for a few drinks. The evening begins well but soon she starts buying me Sambucas, we progress through the evening with me getting more and more worse for wear eventually ending up in a nightclub.

In the club the drinking continues, spiced up with a bit of dancing. Eventually culminating in me pulling my best mates girl. Shame number two.

Walking home we pick up takeaway and head back to hers. At this moment in time I was thinking two things:

1) She screams like buggery.
2) My ex lives in the room next door.
1&2) Revenge.

From here on in things become a little hazy and I wake in the morning to find myself bollock naked next to the girl. In my now hugely hungover and sober state I am in full on shame #3. What the fuck am I going to tell my best mate? Anyway as a bit of damage limitation I decide the best course of action was to run the away. I hop out of bed to gather up my clothes only to discover they are piss wet through. This is a bit odd thinks I. On further investigation (a bit of a sniff) it turns out to actually be piss. Getting into my soaking clothes I discovered I'd even pissed on my t-shirt! The overwhelming sense of shame of pissing all over my clothes in my best mates girlfriends bedroom was only further compounded when I found a neat pile of crap at the end of her bed!

This was now far too much, so without explanation I bolted out the door and left her to sort it all out.

The walk back to my flat was truely a walk of complete shame. Covered in my own piss, I had no idea what I was going to say to my best mate, his girlfriend or what I had really done.

Anyway the end result is that my ex didn't speak to me for a good long while. My best mate was knobbing his ex back home in London and was looking for an excuse to dump his current girlfriend anyway. The girl in question moved away a year later and we haven't heard from her since.

The shame has been dulled by the retelling and has got to the point that it's generally the first story people will tell about me. I hope to trancend one day to ludicrous urban-legend.

But my god the shame!

Longest. Post. Evar. And I cut bits out.
(mehmeh 0% witty, Tue 29 Nov 2005, 9:39, Reply)