Your Most Unsmooth Moment

They were a simpler times back then.

More poo and vom stories, less stealing an aspergers wifi cables!

Clams have nailed me twice. Once on holiday in Italy, where I forced my then fiance to have Evil Dead 2 (in Italian) on at max volume to cover the noise I was making next door. She ended up calling the night security guard out of concern, who said "Oh, vongole? HAHAHAHA!" and promptly left.

Then once more in a London hotel on the second date with current Ms Danno, who fortunately sleeps like the dead and had no idea what happened.

I don't eat shellfish other than prawns now. Fucking poisonous little oceanslug wankers.

"When I was 14 my mate was really into Warhammer so I tagged along with him to a model shop."

I'm not a nerd honest!

I went around to a mates party before. Was for his birthday so a mixture of family and friends.

Got there and it's night and everyone is outside with patio heaters and lighting. I see this old lady sat with what looked like a pair of Ray Bans on.

Me: "Heh, who invited the gangsta granny?"

Host: "Me... That's my grandma. She's blind"

My cheeks actually felt hot they turned that red.

This thread is delivering.

I tried the "doesn't fit into any group" angle and had no mates as a result.

When I was in P5 (about 7 or 8 years old I think) I had a massive, unrequited crush on a girl in my class called Maeve. She was really lovely; long blonde hair, smart, played the violin, was on the same swimming team as me etc. We were both immensely shy and so we rarely spoke, even though we sat near each other in class.

One morning before class started I was chatting to a friend about SNES games or football or something. I was leaning over his desk, resting my chin in my hands when all of a sudden I sneezed. Not one of those ah-ah-ah-achoo civilized type sneezes, just a very violent, very loud ACHOO. It was sufficiently unexpected that I didn't have time to prepare the rest of my body and so I also farted loudly at the same time.

Instantly, I felt a presence behind me. I slowly straightened up & turned round to see Maeve standing immediately behind me (literally within 30cm of my arse) with a look of absolute horror and disgust on her face. I tried to smile at her but with the smell, my face still covered in snot, which was now getting cold, and the fact I had recently lost a lot of baby teeth, she screeched and bolted out of the classroom.

That was in 1995 and it still haunts me. Her younger sister ended up marrying my cousin and Maeve didn't mention it when I met her at the wedding so hopefully she has forgotten the whole experience but I never will.

Classic move. I did the same at secondary school (I was bizarrely ultra-popular at primary school but that's another story), and it worked out a bit better but it's definitely a way to ensure you have less mates than picking, I dunno, any group at all.

I often lie in bed at night going over horribly awkward moments from when I was dating.

The most horrific was on a fourth date. I’d been seeing this girl for a while and we’d been getting on really well. And I want to preface this whole thing by saying that in hindsight I was being mucked around. She was openly dating other people and keeping her options open, but for whatever reason I thought I was front of the queue.

So on date three she asked me if I believed in the three date rule, where if you date someone three times you know if they are worth sticking with. I said generally I didn’t put a time limit on anything but thought at some point you just know either way. Things after that became needlessly awkward but nonetheless it was a decent date with shots and a kiss at the end.

Then she ghosted me for a week. I really should have taken that as a sign of disinterest but damn it it’s just rude and I wanted closure. So I eventually upfront asked her if everything was Ok, and she replied asking if I fancied dinner the next day. So with some hope restored we had dinner (where she spent half the time on her fucking phone) and while I walked her back to her bus stop she gave me the old “If anything was going to happen it would have happened by now” line.

So rather than a date she just got me out as her way of thinking was that if ghosting didn’t work the next kindest thing would be to tell me she wasn’t interested in person. For the record, it isn’t. A text would have been fine.

But for whatever reason, my weird emotionally battered brain after two glasses of wine read this situation as “if you don’t make a move now she’ll give up.” So I lunged in for a kiss. She had to take evasive manoeuvres to dodge it and turn it into a hug. It was only then my brain sorted itself out and realised that she wasn’t into me and probably never had been.

It was a long walk home and I was so aghast and gutted at my misreading of the situation I had to call in sick at work the next day. A few days later she texted and asked if I wanted to hang out. Because we were mates, obviously. And we did, because I’m pathetic.

The Tl;Dr here is if I could go back and give my younger self one piece of advice it would be not to waste time pining over people who just aren’t into you.

Same here. A few very minor details different, but I could narrate almost the exact same story.

Had to re-add this classic:

Okay, I haven't been on here for quite a while.

... and that's because I have been TRAUMATISED over an event, a moment and a situation I thought I'd never find myself in.

I had been seeing an exceptionally pretty lady since the beginning of February and we seem to be made for each other except our preference on Earl Grey (and you most certainly don't put milk in first).

We went to a particularly plush country mansion that was not far from the Norfolk Broads in which we were the tenth and final guests; I did not know anyone, but she knew them all. I was the youngest by a bit and they were all rather pleasant (and good looking) folks.

After a lovely dinner and a couple of drinks we all went to the living room and crowded around the fireplace whereby I sat on the so-called Grandad chair. It was comfortable and I was enjoying the company.

Um, so ... the next hour or so was the entire opposite of the word 'comfortable'.

The guy who was furthest away from me started kissing his partner. Nothing unusual about that, right? The guy who was furthest way from me started caressing her in open view. Nothing unusual about that, right? The guy who was furthest way from me started to put his hands down her skirt and rubbing pretty intensely. In front of us.

NOTHING UNUSUAL ABOUT THAT, RIGHT?

Then it just kind of happened, albeit very gradually, like everyone was taking their turns to watch and pursue the sexual motions. I was as stiff as a wooden plank, as in not believing what was going on right in front of me and was unable to move or utter a word other than the occasional glance at the lady I was with.

And there goes the question:

'Would you like to join us?'

She was asking ME this? Are you quite mad? What on Earth has gone to your head? Where do these people come from? Why is this happening like it is a formal and of a normality sequence of events?

In other words, I didn't say 'NO'.

It was surreal. I didn't like it, yet there was something very invasive about doing the deed with other peoples partners to the point that it felt ... fine. I most certainly didn't enjoy looking at the lady I was with going inside the other men and I most certainly did NOT LIKE THE MEN TOUCHING MY WILLY!

The car journey home was as awkward as one could imagine. I wanted to say, 'does this happen a lot?' and 'why did you put me in that position with nary a word let alone a hint of sorts?'.

We don't see each other anymore.

The only words of comfort I can give you fine folks is that if you're in the situation I was in, no matter how attractive the people are, please, for the love of all things good, say 'no'.

: (

Ha ha I’m no chad, I’ve done that myself, but only once, it’s a right of passage👍

I've always found sex people a bit weird. It's likely because polyamory is an afront to my sensibilities of what relationships and love should be but whenever you see documentaries or anything like that, they always seem like right creepy weirdos