heh…. HEHEHE. Well. I got unexpectedly and unbelievably drunk with some pretty skeezy guys… and it was basically their fault, as they later told me that they sneakily managed to get 1/4 litres of vodka into me. And after that I don’t remember much, though what happened was that I basically climbed onto one of them I was attracted to and told him to have sex with me? I’m not sure, I can’t remember.

Actually it’s incredibly mortifying and awful to think about to this day. There were some more embarrassing happenings that evening, but we won’t discuss them here

ETA: I also had a very low alcohol tolerance at age 17, when this happened (don’t judge please, sex is way different in my country, the legal age is admittedly too low at 14, but… yeah), so whereas a quarter of a vodka-litre might not make me throw-up-black-out-rape-someone drunk, it’ll still screw me over pretty bad

You have a point – but considering that i met the mother of my children just a few weeks prior to this party-flirt, i think of it as going to horse-racing… Not really knowing enough to know witch horse to bet on as the winner!

And still – The chance of catching something nasty is basically a matter of condoms… It is not just up to the woman to prevent unwantet pregnancy, but as you say also a sexual transmitted desease-matter … So protect yourself! Everytime! It’s like brushing your teeth every evening – something that should come naturally and each and every time… Hear that, kids? ;-)

I can understand how you might feel that way… but what if you’d caught a disease and brought it home to her? How much worse would you feel then? Laying aside the cheating dimension (One night of anything is never worth the rest of your life with your spouse. That’s just bad math.) you still did the right thing in refusing, even if it wasn’t your original intention.

Two stories… this is going to be a long one…

When i was 12 I moved from the countryside with 27 km to the nearest light regulated crosssing, to the capital city in Denmark, and everything was different… the people, the customs and especially me! Trying to get the feel of this “metropol”, whitch is small (1.1 mill people) in comparison with some of the huge cities in other countries, i took to wander the streets in the center of the city… One day i was approached by a fellow, standing with a city map, and asked for directions. Feeling flattered that i looked like a “city-dweller”, i chatted a little with the fellow, age maybe 30, and discovered that he, like me, was from the countryside and feeling a little intimidated by this caos of impressions. He suggested that we took a soda at a place, and this was fine! He was a photografer, and took several pictures of me, suggesting that i should come with him to his atelier for some serious shooting, especially if i was accepting being in the nude and in intimate contact with him! I smelled the smoke, bailed out and left…
Some 10 years later, the lesbian little sister of my girlfriend turns 18, and she throws a party at the hottest gay-bar in town, and somehow i get this queasy feeling about being there… suddenly i realize that i have been there before – the subject of a pickup attempt by a pedofile “photografer”… ew!

This girlfriend and i split up, and somehow it was possible to score another by complaining about how sad it was for me to be alone… And i’m still together with this one these 14 years later! Get that… !?
But… shortly after I met her, I went to this university party, lots and lots of young people, summer time and girls with pretty dresses… I did’nt feel to attacthed to my new catch and my eye caught this girl and i chatted her up. Being an archologist is not bringing a lot of snappy phrases, but somehow she accepted my presence, not too inviting but liking the attention – sounds familiar??? I spend several hours with good conversation, cold beer, blue sky and this adorable thing, trying to steal a kiss and make something out of it! As it approches the time most people get up in the morning, i decided to pack up and leave, saying my goodbyes after thanking her for a wonderfull night – despite everything it WAS quite a pleasant way to spend an evening… And at THAT time she plays her cards, suggesting that i come home with her and “sleep over”! Having made up my mind, i sadly refused her, tried to kiss her again (witch she would’nt!) and went home …
Unfortunately, some of my friends later talked about the party in presence of my girlfriend, and mentioned that i was seen taking to this girl (STUPID!) … and to this day, the now mother of my three children still refuses to believe that nothing happened – despite my best efforts and intentions, both to convince her otherwise and that night at the party. But i might just as well had slept with her since i get the blame anyway…

Of failed-date-techniques:

As I was a young stud and was enjoying a fab evening at a bar with some of my friends, a MILF approached and tried to seduce me. She was not that ugly but totally not that kind of woman to float my boat. She was drunk and getting more and more desperate to get me hooked. And then she accidentally mentioned her husband who seemed to be a jeaulous psychopath by what she was telling and she didn’t know his whereabouts after they had a violent marital row just before she dropped in into the bar…
Now, that’s just what you want – a wacky drunk on your lap while her bloodthirsty cuckold runs down the frontdoor.
I tried to decline her offer as politely as possible but she had to be dragged off by the police (the bartender called the cops in because of “sexual assault on a customer”). While my friends had a good laugh on my expense, I felt a bit pity for the poor lady after all…

Dammit. I hate to say this, but I did think of something more embarrassing.

I was at a party flirting with this girl, and she left, telling me to follow her home in my truck. I was parked in my friend’s front yard, and it had been raining. I left twin trenches where my tires dug up the grass leading straight to a palm tree, which I backed into at full speed and cracked the back of my head on the back wall of the cabin.

Drunk and concussed I managed to drive to her house, where I wobbled into her living room and passed out, falling to the floor as she was trying to kiss me. She was drunk enough to think it was funny instead of calling an ambulance… but I did wake up the next day, so I guess all’s well that ends well.

I hope you’ll forgive me for not remembering that. Most of it was pieced together over the next few days from different friends’ accounts.

And to satisfy TomaO2, absolutely no sex was had that night.

Hmm. Okay.

Perhaps I should have said “we obviously have different opinions of what we should be embarrassed by.”

Or something like that.

Maybe. I consider “embarrassing” to be something that “embarrasses” me.

What would you think of it as?

Clearly, then, we have vastly different standards for what qualifies as “embarrassing.”

Or you’re just holding out on us.

Respectfully, I disagree.