Alright there readers I hope you’re well? Me? Not to bad thanks, just finished a really boring bit of research for work so I’m pretty happy to have that out of the way, but that’s not what I’m really here to talk about today… I guess I’m stalling. I thought since I’ve been posting for a little while it was about time I told you a little bit more about me so here goes. This post is, as the title suggests, all about the moments in my life I really wish I could forget. Now I’m not a guy who feels embarrassed easily and I really think that’s down to the following situations I’ll be writing about in the next few months. These little moments of personal horror have stuck with and I suspect they always will. Although I think having them there in my head makes me realise that things can always be worse, because they have been!
A Valentines Disaster
When I was 18 something really quite nice happened. I met a girl. She’s cool, I sill like her, it’ll be three years in a few weeks so despite how terrible this story it she’s stuck out this long!
However, when I was 18 something terrible also happened. It was valentines day and I hadn’t ever celebrated it before. I wasn’t all that sure of how it all went down. Are you supposed to do gifts? Will I get a gift? Should I expect a gift? Will the gift be underwear for her or will it be something practical like a new garlic press or clean shoe laces? I really was pretty clueless. I’d like to make a point now that this is no longer the case, I’ve gotten much better at this whole boyfriend thing over time but at first I was diabolically bad.
So – the gift. I eventually settled on the standard high school trio. A bear, some chocolate and a card. We hadn’t been together all that long so jewellery was probably a step too far at this point and pretty much anything was going to beat the “Friends” box set I had gotten for her birthday the month before. So the day rolled around and I woke up to a very nice, emoji filled, valentines text. I duly replied and asked what she wanted to do that night. I offered to take her out for dinner but we eventually settled on staying in and making a lasagne, her favourite meal.
Perfect I thought, cooking I can handle. If there’s anything that I can handle it’s cooking. I’m not saying I’m amazing at it, far from it, but it’s never been a stress to me. Turning some assortment of ingredients into an actual meal has never made me fearful, if anything I think it’s pretty relaxing.
That evening we settled into her flat to cook. We exchanged gifts we kissed it was all super romantic and stuff. Real “Notebook” standard wooing from me don’t you think? Anyway – after some chat we headed to the kitchen to cook. Everything was going great, I was opening the difficult to open jars and showing how manly I was, I worked out how long the lasagne had to be in the oven before we put the garlic bread in, I was like Gordon Ramsey and Byron all rolled into one. I was pretty much killing it.
But then, disaster struck. As donned the oven gloves to grab the food out of the oven time began to slow down. My right hand accidentally grazed the side of a pint sized glass of coke and it toppled. This doesn’t seem like a disastrous moment until I tell you what it toppled on. Imagine the worst thing you could spill a pint of coke on, on valentines day. Have you got something in your head? It’s worse.
I spilt an entire pint of coke on her Macbook.
It’s really all a blur after that moment, I remember sitting on the floor eating cold lasagne and salad and trying to apologise. She was very gracious actually. She never freaks out about big stuff, a strange air of calm seems to wash over her and she just deals with it. It’s pretty amazing actually. But if you asked her to send a plate of food back in a restaurant when they put cheese on the top and she didn’t ask for cheese, that would panic her. It’s a very odd inversion of what one might consider normal social behaviour.
Anyway, we eventually went to fetch my computer to watch a film on but I couldn’t enjoy it. I couldn’t even sleep that night. In fact I don’t think my bum unclenched until the next day when her dad transferred her the money for a new one.
Even to this day I think a little part of her dad still thinks of me as the one who broke his daughters laptop. But that’s okay I guess, I can live with that. There are worse things I could be know as… right?