This one's from a while ago.
I was on the pool team. We were fairly rubbish, but had bonded well, and spent a fair few hours in the pub together. When bored with pool, we used to play cards, and used to set each other forfeits. One example is that of my brother who had to crawl the whole length of the pub one night grunting like a pig, and did.

On this particular occasion I lost at cards and my forfeit was to be 7-balled at pool by the pub landlady (for those who don't play pool this means that I would be utterly humiliated as my opponent potted all her balls, and I would pot none.) Now I reckoned I was a bit of a hot-shot at pool, I'd recently had a trial for West Yorkshire, had not got on the team, but had 7-balled an opponent and came away with my pride intact. Maureen, for that was the landlady's name, was completely crap at pool and was only allowed to play to make the numbers up if we were short of players.

My dare then was terrible, as one of the "best" players to be completely twatted by the worst, it was a dare of horrifying magnitude and for 3 weeks I could not for the life in me achieve my goal as whenever I played her, Maureen would always accidentally pot one of my balls. (I told you she was crap)

Fast forward to Christmas Eve 1991. I lived alone with my Gran and I was woken up this day by her cleaner with the news that Gran had fallen on the floor and wouldn't wake up.

A frantic day ensued. I drove at 90mph behind the ambulance to the hospital, alerted other members of the family, and we found out she'd had a stroke. After hanging around in the hospital for a few hours I was told by my parents to go and do all the dropping off presents and stuff I'd planned to do today as I couldn't be of any use there. 3 hours later Gran was dead. I found out at a family friend's house by accident as the friend thought I already knew.

After seeing my Mum and Dad I drove back to my now empty house. It got to about 7 O'clock and knew I couldn't stay in there alone as it would do my head in. I packed up a book and walked to my local to hide in a corner and read, but just be around people. I still had to go back home afterwards, but at least I would be somewhere warm and friendly.

Well. Scouse Bill gave me a bollocking after seeing me driving so fast that morning, and despite Maureen's desperate attempts to shut him up he still insisted on calling me a "fucking nutter" who had no right to drive that fast no matter what the circumstances. Maureen eventually tried to take the heat off me by challenging me to a game of pool. She knew I liked pool, and the scouser would now leave me alone.

I did start out trying to win, but my heart just wasn't in it. Maureen potted a ball, I missed. Maureen potted another, I missed again, and the pattern continued. I had 7 balls left on the table, Maureen had 3, when I had a brainwave. "I know", I thought "I'll get that forfeit out of the way". I then proceeded to play the worst game of my entire life as I let Maureen (whose skill by now had disappeared) beat me, humiliate me, and make me write my name onto the C_________ Inn's 7-Ball Wall of Shame.

Rather than look elated by her fantastic win Maureen looked rather downcast. I, feeling quite pleased with myself at getting a horrible job done rather painlessly wrote my name up on the board and went back into the corner to continue reading the book. By the end of the night I'd had a few pints, read a good book, and now felt able to go back home.

I found out later that Maureen was gutted. That poor woman had tried her best to cheer me up on what she knew was a terrible evening for me. She'd only challenged me at pool so that I could at least have the satisfaction of something going right, and she had blown it big time. Instead of helping me she thought she had destroyed what was left of my pride and self-confidence. She knew how much my standing at pool meant to me, and how humiliating it was to have my name up on the wall not only 7-balled, but 7-balled by the worst player in the pub. Not only was she upset that night, but she still felt guilty the next day. She couldn't stop worrying about how I was, she knew I was depressed, and she was seriously worried in case I did anything daft.

I completely destroyed that poor woman's Christmas. She had a screaming row with her husband who told her to "just get over it", she was totally devastated by what she'd done, and until I walked in on Boxing day worried frantically about my mental state.


Maureen. I am sorry. I am sorry for being a heartless bastard who was totally uncaring about the feelings of a lovely person who was simply trying her best to do the right thing.

I am sorry for putting you through a hellish Christmas.

I am sorry for leaving the table in such a way that you thought you'd seriously upset me.

Most of all I am sorry for pissing myself laughing when you finally dared broach the subject a couple of months later and I am sorry for not telling you how grateful I was that someone cared so much about me that it upset them to see me lose a stupid game of pool.

Here's to Maureen and all the people like her who have hearts of gold.
( Occulus Swallowed, instead of spat, on, Thu 1 Nov 2007, 20:25, 6 replies)

that's really sweet

(0800221155 Coldseal windows, Thu 1 Nov 2007, 20:31, closed)

Great story.
Now get down there and tell her.

This one's Best Of material. Start clicking, folks...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 1 Nov 2007, 20:45, closed)

What an utter star
Hurrah for all the good people, nice to know they're still around.
( SugarSpunSister Yeah, whatever, Thu 1 Nov 2007, 21:29, closed)

Good on you!
Not many people take time to say sorry these days. I really hope she sees this somehow :)
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Thu 1 Nov 2007, 22:05, closed)

Awww
What a lovely lady, and such a shame that her twunt of a husband didn't appreciate that.

*clicks*
(Vorlon, Thu 1 Nov 2007, 22:09, closed)

For Sure *clicks*
Hear Hear!
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 8:47, closed)