I'm going to tell you a story, It's absolutely true and happened to ME. just one of many embarrassing stories (I should really write a book). This is a real belter, you can tell it in pubs and pretend it happened to someone you know (which I guess it did). Anyway here goes...
The Most Embarrassing Moment of my Life... so far...by Josh Denton
I am about 14 years old, just a boy, young and impressionable. Me and my friends are all around at one of their houses (parents house) having a sleepover, we are all upstairs playing Street Fighter (possibly 3rd strike, maybe alpha 3 just as a time frame for you). We are all sharing an 8th of skunk which we either procured together from a friends older brother/the skate park or my mate, whos house we were at, Dad (an artistic man [a legend really] who introduced us to the world of green [in his defence he was doing it because he thought that it was better that he show us it that some older boys and as I no longer smoke it i'm guessing it worked?]).
So anyway we are all upstairs in his bedroom which had been converted into a gaming haven for the night, big pillows/sofas etc. We smoked a couple of J's playing the customary 'Bu-wies-er' game (holding deeper and deeper 3 tokes round) to get the most from it and sat down to get stuck into some playstation, very very mashed.
I'm sitting near to the back of the group, I start to feel really dizzy and wobbly, 'it'll pass', I think to myself and keep watching Akuma pummel Chun-Li on the 14 inch tv taken in to the room especially for the game night. I look into the mirror on the wardrobe to my right and see my lips are starting to go a bit white. "you OK Jocky?" says Naim, "Yeah, course I am!" I reply in a sort of 'why the fuck wouldn't I be?' sort of jokey retaliation, "You gonna green? you look white", "NO, i'm fine!". A few more minutes pass (which feel like hours as by now I'm spinning like a catherine wheel) and start to wretch a little, obviously hiding all this from my mates as it would be 'pussy' to green out. Suddenly a BIG wretch comes up and I have a full mouth of warm, chunky, acidy vomit. Not much of this escaped my mouth so I calmly make for the door like i'm going to the toilet for a piss. At this point I am still feeling like I have not passed the point of no return, embarrassment-wise, as if I just make it to the bathroom I know I can just throw-up in the loo, have a little rest and a splash of cold water on the face and i'll be sorted.
So, I open the bedroom door, no one sees, I stagger out into the hallway and make my way round the banister to the end of the hallway where the bathroom is. This is where the real torment begins. On my way along the corridor I wretch uncontrollably again and (as my mouth is already tight with sick) there is a vomit
explosion. I know I've made a mess but I get to the bathroom and rest my shaky hands on the rim of the toilet and my heavy head on the side of it. After a few minutes of doing an impression of a bird feeding its young into the watery nest I decide that, if I am to keep this as my own dirty secret, I'd better clean up my mess in the hallway and slip back into the back of the room before anyone notices im gone (which I had been for quite a while now). I follow my little trail of gag out of the bathroom with a wad of bogroll wiping as I go, I reach the door and look out into the hallway and only then do I see the true extent of the damage I have caused. There is sick literally fucking everywhere, the carpets/the rugs/the walls/the oil paintings his dad had done and all over the dresser, all the best cups and plates and cutlery full up with small putrid deposits from my own guts and in the center of this china/vomit covered piece of furniture lay the worst of all... a small picture of someone in a delicate silver frame, I wipe it and reveal a picture of my mates dead grandmother. I could have cried. To be honest I probably did a little, a feeling of absolute dispare fell over me. I went to the bathroom to get a roll of paper to begin the futile clean up. I started slowly padding the floor and wiped my sick splattering from an oil painting of a wedding dress. Then, the last thing that should have happened (I hate you god), and it sealed my fate forever... I heard the door to the living room open and someone (my mates Mum) started walking up the stairs, and in this house the landing doubled back on the stairs so I had to watch the back of her head in horror as she ascended the flight and finally turned round 180 degrees in slow motion to see me on my hands and knees covered in, and completely surrounded by, my own cold, dripping vomit. My mother was called and I went home that night in an extremely sorry state indeed,
filled with shame... not with sick.
So there it is, the most embarrassing story of my like so far. I have no idea how i lived with that sort of shame as a school boy or how I ever showed my face in that house ever again, but I did. So yeah sorry again for that mate.
and If you were there that night, love ya boys, a great era...
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