Sunday, January 06, 2008

Embarrassing Memory #11: Embarrassing Memory Compendium II

God knows how I managed to allow these gems to slip from my subconscious for so many years, but I've just recalled two more utterly humiliating events. Lovely:

1 ~ I was sat at my desk at an inept examinations board in central London. It was a grey, average morning on a grey, average weekday, circa 2003. The job I did sucked, because I was then employed in Marketing – a.k.a. Basically Just Flogging Stuff, No Matter How Much It’s Dressed Up, where I would do whatever it took to avoid work in a slightly less nobler version of Oskar Schindler refusing to manufacture a single working bomb. In essence, my days were filled with emailing friends, then drinking heavily in the evenings.
That particular morning, I’d emailed Gay Rog to see how he was while another colleague, Monkey Dave, appeared at my desk to do likewise and go ‘ook’.

It was in this fug of dual greeting that I got confused. Monkey Dave began telling me about his evening the night before, something about foraging for berries or grooming his mate, when Rog replied. He wrote that he was “Super, thanks for asking”, which (obviously) put me in mind of the Big Gay Al song from the South Park movie.

‘Then there’s my reply,' I thought. ‘I'll copy and paste the full lyrics. Max response, zero effort.’

So while Dave rambled on and the ennui of being employed at a dump continued unabated, I unthinkingly typed ‘BIG’ and ‘GAY’ and ‘AL’, and clicked the first link that appeared. At work.

So imagine my surprise - and Dave's - when a big, fat cock filled my monitor.
‘Aargh!’ I screamed quietly, clicking on the little close-window button, a button that merely provoked more angry-cocked windows into appearing.
- Big bald man with large flaccid dick between his legs.
‘Erk!’ Close window, close window!
- Man with moustache tugging a gentleman in leather chaps by his arm... no, that's not an arm. Close window immediately.
- Large man fucking another man up the arse.

I stood up to yell, trying to block the monitor with my body as closing the fucking windows wasn’t having any effect. This made Monkey Dave very amused as he clapped and swung from the hatstand, so I switched off my monitor and walked up to IT, where I specifically asked for the head of department.

With a straight-face, I told him that I'd accidentally made hardcore gay pornography come onto my computer.

Regrettably, I wasn't sacked.

2 ~ Several years earlier. Let's call it 1999, because it was. I was in the bar at my television job, drinking with a colleague and a friend of his, a cute, sexy friend who I remember thinking looked a bit like Cat Deeley.

And God knows how but we ended up snogging at some point. And don't ask me what I’d said to get there, but somehow we ended up in a cab with her flatmate, and her flatmate's boyfriend.

Suddenly we're at their house, and things were going spectacularly well, although whatever was coming was pushed back for a more important glass of water and a girlie chat in her flatmate's bedroom - Not that I was a part of that. I was upstairs, lying alone on her bed with an erection and a tremendous amount of unspent energy.

So I waited.

And I waited.

Until I pondered how it was possible that I could go out one night, meet a girl, snog that girl, then be invited back to hers whereupon said girl would then vanish.

Something had to happen though; surely my presence in her bedroom was guarantee of that? But where was she? In fact, I began to wonder, wasn’t this all a little…rude? So I stumbled downstairs to where everyone was gathered, and bellowed, ‘Are you coming up, or what?’

I didn't have sex that night. In fact, I didn’t have sex with her at all. By the time she eventually appeared in her jimjams, I failed to entice her out of them so I passed out and started snoring instead. The next thing I remember was being woken up by her alarm clock; it was playing Madness, ‘It must be love’.

And so I went to work, while she feigned illness, and I never saw her again.

Even I think she probably did the right thing.


Anonymous said...

Oh my god. I lived your number two.

I went to the apartment of a colleague, many years ago, with whom I had been carrying on a flirtation. We kissed in his kitchen, repeatedly, then he led me to his bedroom, and suggested that I undress and get in the waterbed. I did, and then I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I pulled on a dressing gown, went into the living room, where he was sitting eating steak with his roommate. I guess I was the "What the fuck?" girl in that case.

But, well, actually, he did end up getting laid. So, the story is a little different.

Jimmy Page's Trousers said...

They call this progress? What sort of world is it when 'Are you coming up, or what?' can't get a man laid. It's political correctness gone mad, is what it is.

bittersweet me said...

awww, fweng ....


chopperbomb said...

re No.2: You really haven't got a clue, have you? Actually I should rephrase that. You really DIDN'T have a clue, DID you? I'm sure you're much better with the laydeez now...
By the way, we haven't hooked up since early December. Beers soon?

Hannah said...

Oh my. Laughing? Crying? I can't decide.

Peach said...

none of that is actually that bad you know, apart from yelling at girl I guess...

Clarissa said...

Oh dear.

elif said...

re: second story
what you should have done is go to the room and hold her, join their conversation for one minute, then say "shall we?" or something to the girl. that would have got you laid. BUT what kind of a person takes a guy home, leaves him in her room and talk to her roommates for a long time?

fwengebola said...

LFM ~ Hey, where've you been? Quite amusing that he paused at undressing to have dinner. Not surprised that he got laid though. It was his house, for a start.
JPT ~ I was young and drunk. No-one told me that there was still room to fuck up at the last hurdle.
BSM ~ Are you doing drugs?
CB ~ I like to think I wouldn't behave like that nowadays.
Not that I'd get the opportunity.
Yes to beers, but not until Feb. And as previously discussed, opportunities are few and far between. Unless you, me, and Jim do a weeknight.
But not for a while. I'm dieting.
Hannah ~ Either, as long as it's not judging.
Oh, too late.
Peach ~ Bad enough to warrant a post. And it wasn't a yell.
Actually, yes it was. An irate, 'Oi! I'm supposed to be in here!'
Clar ~ Oh thanks.
Elif ~ Someone who is having second thoughts, clearly. I bring that out in women providing, of course, hell has frozen over and they're keen for the first ten minutes.

Vi vi vi vooom!!!!!!!! said...

Bugger, you shouldn't have stopped for that glass of water!

luna said...

Hum,there's this pattern with you of being much more attractive when you shut up and smile...

Next time stay in the girl's room and noisily drop her desklamp or something,she'll rush to you,promise.

Girl Friday said...

I think the main points here can easily be summarised with a turn of phrase: Work and Sex are rarely a good combination(unless of course sex is your work) and Sex without work is rarely successful. I know I'm deep, I try.

fwengebola said...

Vi ~ Part of me (99%) thinks that she wanted that glass of water, that lull and space.
Luna ~ Why didn't I think if that? I can't imagine she'd jump on me in a good way if I broke something in her room though.
GF ~ Sex without work? You mean like a desk job?