Not to be outdone by my running embarrassments, and the fact I’m trying to remind myself that I’m not just a runner, (and I mean that in the loosest of terms) I thought it would be a great idea to share 10 of the most embarrassing things that have happened to me, when I haven’t been wearing Lycra. (Granted, these are the 10 most things I feel comfortable to share with my parents.)
In at number 10; the time I saw my friend’s ex-boyfriend and he said; ‘Hi, Han.’ And for some god only knows reason, I replied with, ‘I like grass I do.’
Number 9 has to be the time I tried to kiss a boy in Walkabout, back in the day, and he defiantly didn’t want to kiss me! I still have no idea why I tried to ram my tongue into the general direction of his face, but I think it had something to do with the fact Wales were playing rugby.
Number 8, I’d say was the time I pissed myself on a night out in Abertillery and then thought it may be a good idea to sit in a puddle to justify it. ‘You are going to start to smell.’ My friend Lee had kindly pointed out, so I spent the remainder of the night asking if anyone had a spare bottle of Febreeze on them.
Number 7 is the time I thought it would be appropriate to take all my clothes off in the back of a taxi. To be fair to me, I took my kit off, folded it up really tidy and didn’t utter a word. The first everyone knew of it was when I got out. The first I heard of it was when I had to apologise to the taxi driver in the Baili Glas the week after.
In at number 6, 100% the time I got my arse waxed for the first time. Tucked behind a thick curtain whilst the very chatty girl, who had the honour of removing my hoop fluff, advised me to go to a salon in Cardiff next time, ‘because, they are totally used to doing Pakistani hair removal, babe, like this.’ I genuinely thought things couldn’t get any worse but as I was paying, in a pretty rammed salon, she asked her supervisor, way too loudly for my liking, ‘how much do we charge for an arse wax now , babe?’
Number 5 has to be the time I was utterly convinced the DJ in the rugby club fancied me. ‘Why do you say that?’ My friend Amie asked, the morning after the night before. ‘Because he gave me a Mars bar.’ At the tender age of 17, I was sure a Mars bar was a definite sign of love. Amie thought this hysterical. ‘Han, he tried to give that to everyone, you were the only greedy bastard to take it.’ Oh how I laughed.
Number 4, the time I fell over a pumpkin, dressed as a mouse, pissed myself and broke my wrist.
Number 3, obviously the time I phoned my Dad from my university digs to tell him he’d absolutely love Bath, because they did fish on the steak menu in England. ‘What do you mean?’ he’d said. ‘Well, last night I was in a pub, it was steak night, and they had gammon on the menu!’ he hung up on me.
Number 2 has to be the time in Mexico my friend Jenni convinced me shave off everything downstairs. It was the first time, Eric (My Banana man namesake vagina) had been bald, so, it was the first time, I realised that I was the very proud owner of a lopsided piece of anatomy. ‘What’s wrong with it?’ Jenni had asked. I spent the remainder of the holiday using the hotel computer to research wonky foof’s.
Number 1, the ultimate, hands down, most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me. The time I shit myself, in the communal living room of the apartment I was staying in Turkey, with the girls. For a bit of background, I’d been out the night before and drunk our entire 90 euros of kitty money, I’d not been sober since we’d been there, and the time ‘that’ happened was in the latter part of the second week. I’d felt a rumble in my tummy and then what I can only describe as, my arsehole actually burst. ‘I think I’ve wee’d myself.’ I tried, knowing full well I was lying on our sofa in my own shit. There was heaving, open mouthed gaping and mortification, and then there was panic that we’d be charged for the sheets! How I smuggled those sheets, out of the room, past poolside and into a bin three streets away, I will never know.
There’s more obviously, god there’s more…