Nine years ago, on my first ever working holiday experience, I moved to Scotland. I remember landing and thinking, oh hot dam I can not wait to hear that accent and get a taste for the local cuisine. To my disappointment all I met were Australians. Australians working at the hostel, Australians living at the hostel, Australians everywhere I went in town when. The Australians at the hostel, which were plaguing up my Scottish experience, actually became my new international family and friends. They made moving into and living the hostel a fun and pleasnt experience.
Living in a hostel was a great I had never lived in such a community setting before. People were always there to talk to, hang out with and share knowledge and experiences. Most were passing on their knowledge to me; I was still learning how to spread my wings and fly. We called the hostel the ‘hotel California’, a lovely place and you never really had to leave. It had everything in there, cafe, movie room, bar and a great view of a lake. Each night the bar was well used and yes I’m not kidding each, and every night. I still wonder how we managed to do any site seeing or get our butts to work with the amount of drinking we did. One particular evening the party vibe was going off, and we were getting wild and silly. We danced on tables, sang to the music and shared stories of our travels and home towns. One person, who I had been chatting to for a few hours, came up with a ‘great idea’ and decided we should do a bull run. The game consisted of him and me charging at each other with our fingers by our temples sticking out like horns. This guy I would like to add was six foot something, built like a rugby player, well actually he was a rugby player, charged head to head at one another. Needless to say, the tall guy won the battle, and I ended up with a black eye.
As the night pressed on more and more alcohol was consumed, and the flirting between tall guys and I had picked up. Wobbly legged and barely hanging on to reality, the tall guy and I stumbled, hand in hand, up to his shared dorm room. We, not so gracefully, crawled up to his top bunk and passed out. I woke the next morning with a groggy brain, thoughts shit what room am I in and a splitting headache. I sheepishly climbed out of his bunk and took my sorry ass back to my room. I was in the process of getting into my pyjamas when I realised my jeans were soaked. A hot rush of panic coursed through my body. I pulled off my jeans and smelt the wet areas; my worst fear became a reality, yep urine. Shame, embarrassment, more panic and anxiety hit me all at once. I couldn’t believe I had peed in the tall guy’s bed.
I was pacing around my room, thoughts of oh fuck what do I do now. I cant see these people again; oh wait I have to, they live here too. Should I move away, do I go up and acknowledge what I did and apologise. What he confronts me, will he tell the whole hostel? Does his room smell of musty urine, OMG he now has to sleep in a pee-soaked bed! The endless inner dialogue continued to play over and over and over in my brain. I was humiliated, instantly traumatised and too mortified to show my face around the hostel. So I did what any other average person would do, I hid out of sight for a few days, I needed to let the dust settle. A few people around the hostel did find out, the story was shared, and some gossip began to spread. There were a couple of under the breath digs threw my way; however, I was amazed that the majority of people did not get involved in the inevitable scalding I should have endured. No one went out of their way to humiliate me, take the piss out of me (pun intended) or try to run me out with embarrassment. The tall guy left the hostel shortly after; we never saw or heard from him again. You could say I washed him right out of town.
Still riddled with the embarrassment and shame today, I share this story now so I can apologise.
Tall guy, I’m so sorry I drank way too much (again) that night. I’m sorry that the intoxication led me to do such a disgraceful act. I’m sorry for being so emabarrassed I couldnt confront you and left to clean up what I had done.
I also want to express some thanks, from my end, it seemed like you spared my feelings (I could be completely wrong). Even though we never spoke again, you never went out of your way to punish me for what I did. For that I, thank you.