Embrassing Story Wednesday

It's a day late but whatever.  This story is an old one, a time where I had no facial hair and still hadn't touched my first boob yet.  It was July 2000, I was 12, and I was in Australia as part of a three week exchange program.  This incident took place on our second full day Down Under (sorry, I had to work it in):

Our group consisted of 40 students, four chaperones/teachers, our tour guide Melissa, and our bus driver Graham.  We started on the northeast coast in Cairns, home to rainforests and the Great Barrier Reef.  While showering for dinner on our second night I swore I heard someone knock on my door.  I threw on a towel and and I opened the door only to find no one.  Thinking maybe someone need something, clothes, toothpaste, etc. I stepped completely out of my room and into the hall.  Now, it wasn't really a hall, more of a passage way.  Being in the tropics the rooms all opened onto an open air passage, sort of like how malls in nice weather cities are built.  (Here's a link to the resort since I'm doing a shitty job describing it.)  Anyway, I turn to go back into my room the door won't budge.  It had locked behind me.  I was stuck in only a towel, dripping wet and visible to pretty much anyone who walked by and looked up.  I immediately become frantic (this experience would help me to prepare for college, a time in your life when being without most of your clothes in public is called Friday).  By chance a girl who was staying across the hall-thing from us comes out to head to dinner only to find a mostly naked, soaking me standing there.  She clearly does not know what to make of this.  I asked to go get our head chaperone, a fierce little lady, which she does in a hurry.  In what probably three minutes but felt like three hours our chaperone shows up to let me in, reading me the riot act on how I'm embarrassing myself, our group, and by proxy our country.  Remember, this was pre-GWBush so I really was embarrassing the US.  She let me in and I dressed in a matter of seconds.  As we walk in to eat I was met with a round of applause from my groupmates and chaperones.

Embarrassing Story Wednesday - #fuckfail

Sorry for the lateness of this, we had a little group authorship confusion. I'll make up for this gem of pure #fuckfail.

A little back story. I met this girl on the day of my 20th birthday party at my mom's work and six hours later she was riding me as I was alternating between consciousness and blackout. We ended up doing that thing a couple of times later but this story would turn to be the last time.

One night, a couple of weeks after my birthday, a couple of friends and I were playing beer pong. I had been blowing her up all night and finally convinced her to let me come pick her up. She lived about a half hour away and be being 20, with only one thing on my mind and a couple of beers in me, decided the hour round trip was well worth it. After the trek up and back to where we were playing, the night went exactly as expected: drinking, touching, waiting to get back my friend's house where we were staying. After drinking more than is healthy and stopping to get hoagies we made it back to my friends house. He had the basement, a large finished basement, to himself complete with beds, sofa, etc. He turned the room over to me and our lucky lady friend with the one rule of "don't use the fucking bed". So, after a few awkward moments on the couch and a move to my friend's bed, it was on. What I remember for the rest of the night is some awkward sex and then waking up with just a t-shirt on and her sleeping next to me sans clothes. After the always uncomfortable waking her up because my friends and I were going to take her home (three of us were going to drop of papers at our college and her house was on the way) I asked what happened. She started giggling which is NEVER a good sign and went on to tell me I fell asleep mid-sex. On top of her. Inside of her. She then said she let me sleep because I looked really happy. We dropped her off and haven't seen her since.

Pooping My Pants In Norfolk

This is definitely one of the more disgusting stories that will be posted here for That Guy!'s Embarrassing Story Wednesday.  As always, every bit of this is true, no matter how much you may not belief it is or how much we wish it wasn't.  Without anymore delay, I present to you this week's tale of woe.

A couple of summers ago, on the way back from a vacation with my then-girlfriend's family to the Outer Banks in North Carolina, her and I stopped in Norfolk, Virginia on our way back to Jersey.  I had been to Norfolk a couple of times before and each time I enjoyed myself.  This time would turn out to be different.  We left North Carolina early that morning, a Saturday in late August, and were in Norfolk by 8:30AM.  The entire city was quiet which was both fortunate and odd.  I parked my car in a local parking garage not too far from the USS Wisconsin, a battleship-turned-museum docked in Norfolk.  We proceeded to walk around the harbor area, looking at the boats, the Wisconsin, and the general beauty of the waterfront.  As we walked around the Wisconsin, I felt my stomach gurgle.  Nothing of concerned but definitely needed to find a bathroom before we grabbed breakfast.  Within minutes though the gurgle had turned into an incessant rumble and boiling feces that let me know quickly I needed to evacuate my stomach before it did on its own terms.  I told my girlfriend that I needed to get to a bathroom now and began to walk from the Wisconsin towards the buildings that make up downtown Norfolk.  I found on my phone there was a Starbucks within a mile of where we were and we made a beeline for it.  The first right, the second left.  That's all the stood between and me and safety/relief.  It wasn't long after we made the right turn that the horror of realizing I wasn't going to make it set in.  My steps became shorter and softer and as my girlfriend walked ahead of me I began to look for options.  It was zero hour.  I cannot tell you how lucky I was this was a Saturday morning and not a weekday for I surely would have been arrested.  Without a thought I dropped my boardshorts, stepped into a tiny alcove for the front door of an office building and quickly announced, "I'm not going to make it."  As my girlfriend turned around she saw three things: a man with his shorts and boxers around his knees; a massive, explosive stream of brown, runny shit; and a look on my face she would later describe as one of, "pure relief and shame".  It came in two massive explosions that painted the alcove and the sidewalk in shades reserved for 1970's carpeting.  I finished my deed, feeling like a million dollars, but a total mess.  I had no options to wipe with, nothing to clean myself with.  The only choice was to pull up my shorts and trek the remaining handful of blocks to the original goal of Starbucks.  We arrived, and then I spent the next 15 minutes trying to properly clean myself up and dispose of my boxers, all things I never imagined I would be doing on a family vacation.  As I emerged to my girlfriend staring at me with a look I can't quiet put my finger on, the only thing I could manage was, "My ass is clean, but my self-esteem isn't".

We then ate breakfast.

Embarrassing Story Wednesday - West Virginia Whale

Here is your first ever installation of That Guy! Sports Blog's Embarassing Story Wednesday, a weekly feature where one of us recalls a time in our life where we recount a time in our liveS when we shamed ourselves and families. Up first: The West Virginia Whale.

In 2008, myself, my roommate, and our friend headed down to West Virginia to see Rutgers, our school, make its annual futile attempt to beat the Mountaineers in football.  My roommate and I stayed with our friend from home/West Virginia student at his townhouse while our Rutgers friend, a West Virginia transfer, stayed with friends he had made his freshman year.  After arriving on Friday we found out the Morgantown really could live up to its reputation with a night that included too much beer, a mechanical bull, failed attempts at hooking up, 15 chili cheese dogs, and lots of puking.  The next day was spent at Milan-Puskar battling a hangover and the verbal onslaught from the unintelligent folks known as West Virginia students and the even less intelligent people known simply as West Virginians.  Following the annual loss, my roommate and I kept the recovery process going at our friend’s townhouse, eating wings and flipping on the Phils/Brewers NLDS whenever someone walked in to cover up the fact we were actually watching The Notebook.  The three of us headed back out later that night, walking to the bars and starting what would be come one of the most shameful nights of my life.  I had, to put this as nicely as possible, a large female friend who attended a Pittsburgh area school.  After a few dollar drafts, I began to blow her cell phone up, finally convincing her to drive down to Morgantown to pick the three of us up from the bars so we could avoid the cold walk back to our friend’s townhouse.  (Some people are desperate to avoid the cold, others are desperate for self-respect.)  An hour and a half later she scooped us up and took us back to the townhouse.  After very little convincing she agreed to hook up.  Here is where the night gets interesting.  The complex where the townhouse is located has VERY strict parking rules: the garage attached to the townhouse and the one spot per unit can be used by residents/guests of that townhouse and nothing else at the risk of getting towed.  Same bullshit exists everywhere, right?  My car was in the garage and my buddy’s car was in the spot leaving her nowhere to park except for in an unauthorized spot which she did.  We headed to my car where we begin to do our thing when my roommate opens the door connecting the townhouse to the garage screaming.  Not knowing what was being said and not wanting to ruin such a romantic moment I yelled back, “I’m getting blown!”  (If nothing else, I’m honest.)  This scene repeatedly itself a few more times until my roommate left followed by me finishing up.  Now fully shamed I walk into the townhouse greeted by two pieces of bad news.  The first, and for me the worst, was that our WV friend invited his friends over, making me instantly the guy who hooked up with the fat chick.  The other bit of news was the shitty one for her.  My roommate’s screaming was him warning her (us?) that her car was being towed.  Sure as shit it had been, leaving her stranded with me while I tried to hide her from the sight of my friend’s friends.  To drown out the mocking and seriousness of her problem I began to chug Aftershock as she frantically called her friends in the area, finally securing a ride from a friend at DubVee.  She ended up paying $180 for the honor(?) of blowing me and picking me up from the bar while I endured the ridicule of my friends and one of the longest drives back to Jersey ever.