I got most of my education from what people like to call an "alternative school", which basically just translates to "school with no rules". We had 1 hallway, 60 students, and 4 teachers who we all called by their first names. We would often host community lunches, during which all 60 of us would squeeze into a single classroom and eat food that we had made.

During one of these lunches I was sitting with my girlfriend at a table that we had managed to snag from the crowd. We were talking, flirting, eating off each other's plates - just being real gross in general. There was a cup of water on the table and, assuming that it was my girlfriend's, I took a sip. I figured there wouldn't be a problem with that.

There was a problem with it.

As I took a few more sips from the cup, I noticed one of my teachers staring me down from the serving table. I caught her eye, confused as to why she was giving me such a dirty look, and lifted the cup to my lips once again.

This went on for a while, the teacher staring at me as I drunk self consciously. Neither of us broke eye contact. I figured it was the natural progression of our stare down when she began to walk towards me.

She was a small woman, but looming over me she seemed much bigger than possible. I placed the cup back on the table and craned my head up to see her properly.

After taking a few moments to assert her dominance, my teacher bellowed out the scariest words I have heard in my life:

"Why are you drinking from my mug?"

It's no surprise to me that my girlfriend broke up with me soon after that incident.

This is true. A tale that has stayed in the back of my mind since March of 1971.

I was living in Portland, Oregon at the time, working at a restaurant. Money was good, so were the hours. But the nightlife in one sense was even better.

And it was on one such night, Saturday, I ran into Lisse, from Alaska. Short, attractive, petite and she was up for fun. Truth be told, she took more of a lead to our sexual escapade than I did. Within an hour of meeting, I was not just in her apartment, but her bedroom.

We started as most couples would, heavy petting, touching, fondling, kissing, you get the idea. Within twenty minutes we were completely naked and I, first, explored her body in every way a man can with my hands and lips (trying to keep this as clean as I can).

She orgasmed several times before she said it was my turn. Who am I too argue. As I did with her, she started from my forehead to my ankles and came back but stopped just below my stomach and began to perform in an extrodinary way. She was raising my temperature to a limit I didn't think possible.

But then, the possible became impossible!

What was heaven and the universe suddenly became the dark side of hell's pain! While performing oral sex, she suddenly had a seizure!

To make this short, I was able to dislodge her from "parts not working" and found a phone in her place, dialed the operator, telling her what happened to her (not me), while the whole time I'm trying to make sure she didn't swallow her tongue. I even dumped her purse to see if she had any medication in there.

I guess it was ten minutes before paramedics showed up and did their thing. When she was being taken to the hospital, one of the paramedics said to me, "You seem to need assistance yourself." I must have had a confused look on my face but she pointed and I looked down. In the rush to help LIsse, I forgot I was naked. I even forgot about what she did to me, of which she had broken the skin, and blood covered part of my thighs.

Anyway, she asked me to sit down, she took some gauze and some type of ointment, cleaned me up, and then put a butterfly suture on it.

She stood up, smiled and then handed me a card. On the back was her phone number and the words; not bad. Call me sometime.

Truth be told ... I never did.

When I first started driving, I was 17 and thought I was the shit. It was 1973 and I had saved up enough money to buy and insure a clunky old red Datsun 510.

My Carol King 8 track was blasting out my cranked down windows along with my long blond hair as I drove up Floral Blvd., our town main drag.

Singing along with Carol, “It’s too late baby now it’s too late though I really thought we could make it....”, I should have been paying more attention.

The light turned green at the first crossroad and I accelerated, when out of my perrpherial I saw my new boyfriend’s best friend, Jimmy, pass by slowly in his convertible MGB, pointing and laughing.

Did I really think that the people and cars around me couldn’t see me inside the cabin of my clunker? Right before the light turned green, I dug deep with my pointer finger into my nose to pull out a giant booger that I flicked out the window. “He couldn’t have seen me do that, could he?”

Yep. The next day, I was hanging uptown with our whole group, including my new boyfriend when Jimmy comes right up to me and says,

“Do you want to pick us another winner? I saw you yesterday digging for gold right over there.” He then pointed at the intersection.

Everyone started laughing and I lied saying, “No way! I was just covering a yawn.”

And he then double zinged me good, “Yeah right, I’ve never seen anyone flick a yawn, have you?”

i never thought it would happen

i never thought i would see it

he was wrapped around in her arms

he was kissing her with his heart

he texted me to come and see him

but i came earlier then expected

she wore a red dress, dark eyes

her hair fell around her shoulders

i choked knowing he cheated on me

but i could not confront him at all

i just watched them kissing, oh, oh

how depraved i felt, the urge to

run from there was proof enough

but what was the point of seeing

both of us together, she was sexy

while i was humble and polite

i could see why he wanted her

she was cool and sophisticated

while i wore jeans and t-shirts

she was beautiful and courageous

i never wanted to kiss in public

i just walked over to him, oh, oh

how it hurts when i tap his arm

he whirls around and jumps

i give him his ring and i solemly

say thats it’s finally over, our love

never survived and totally died

in the math of the most cold hearted

embarrassing situation of cheating

i turn around and miss the ring

on my finger and wish that i could

have him back but i know deep

in my heart that its really over!

It was the sixth grade. I had gotten my first period just a few months earlier; I thought I was dying, but my mom finally found my underwear and explained what was happening to me.

Anyway, I was running late for school. I had missed the bus, and my dad had to drop me off. In addition to being late, the mysterious period returned the night before, and in a panic I had shoved a handful of pads into my backpack to use once I was at school and hopefully alone in the girl's bathroom.

I burst into school, running to my locker. Of course, as one of the shortest people in my class, I had a top locker. The hallways were empty, muffled sounds of "learning" coming from the closed doors of classrooms.

I guess I will never know why, but the guy who was my bottom locker, Zach, was kneeling on the floor, digging through his locker when I rushed in that fateful morning. I wheezed a "hello" and began emptying my backpack into my locker, desperate to get to class as quickly as possible. But I forgot the essential I had packed.

In the process of emptying my bag, a pad had come loose from my things and floated down, down, down, right onto Zach's unsuspecting head.

He looked up, confused, then down at the floor.

"I didn't see it!"

"It's not mine!"

We each frantically repeated these phrases until Zach had the sense to get up and run back to class. I picked up the pad, stuffed it back into the deepest dredges of my backpack, and never made eye contact with him again.

Thankfully, he moved in the eighth grade.

Walking around the store

You see the dress you want

You love

You desire

But

It’s a fucking size

Too small

You sigh

You didn’t have

The money anyway

But it’s so cute

You continue

Through the store

But you can’t escape

From the clutches

Of that outfit

It was everything

It was you

And you make

The terrible decision

To take it

To try it on

Ignoring the little voice in your head

Dumbass

You give in

You slip it over your head

And it’s tight

Just as you expected

But it’s so cute

And just so you

And you can’t say no

That bill that’s due in a few days

Will just have to wait

This could work

But now comes the hardest part

Parting with the dress

No, of course you’re going to buy it

But you have to get it off

In order to pay for it

You didn’t think about that

Did you?

There’s two ways

That this plays out in the movies

A mother helping her child

In a heartwarming scene

As she slips the shirt off the child

Readying him for bed

A sweet bonding moment

As she whispers

I’ll always be here for you

The other

A sexy frame in time

As you give in

Allowing him to see you

In the moonlight for the first time

Revealing your naked beauty

Because for some reason

Women in these movies

Don’t wear a bra

And you can’t tell…

He leans in for a kiss

And it warms your everything

Sadly,

You’re in neither of these situations

You’re alone

In a dressing room

Because you never

Really liked the idea of shopping

With other people

Let alone shopping at all

You can’t call for help

Because that’d be embarrassing

You should have never

Tried on the damn dress in the first place

I told you that

So you begin the

Tumultuous journey

Of wriggling out of it

And it’s over your head

Your hands stretched out

Almost there…

There’s a knock on the door

And you’re terrified

Stuck in one of the most

Compromising positions you’ve been in

Since your mother caught you

With your boyfriend at 16

Are you alright in there??

How are you supposed to

Answer that question?

You mumble a soft yes

Through the cloth of the one dress

That warmed your heart

Moments before

It’s the same feeling

You get when the waiter

Asks how your food is

While you’re still chewing

And it’s off

Finally.

You’re never going to do that again

Well… at least until next time

And before you ask,

No, I’m not sure why’d you think

I’ve ever been in that situation

I was cheating

It was wrong

I was divorcing

It was justified (?)

We were alone

Spouses passed out

We leaned in

Dizzy kisses

Tequila taste

Unzipped pants

I took it all in

And vomited

On his Levi's

Okay. This was not my fault. I was like eleven or twelve, okay? Don’t judge me. I was young and an idiot so I honestly never really thought about wearing my bra to school. Sometimes my underwear too. It’s insane. I would go to school commando but I was young and I was rebel so I did.

Throughout primary school, it went on like this and no one noticed. Then secondary school rolled along. I was sitting in class, minding my own business when this girl walks up to me and pats my back just to say hi. I’m busy thinking that’s the end of it and I smile a little cause I’m an awkward potato (still am) and went back to what I was doing.

The girl suddenly turns back and starts feeling my back. She touches it, touches it again and raises an eyebrow at me. I’m feeling pretty confused at this point because I’m pretty sure I’m innocent and did nothing wrong but then I hear this:

“Zee, where’s your bra? Oh my gosh, guys, Zee isn’t wearing a bra!” One, Zee isn’t my real name, just using it for the story. Two, excuse me while I go dig a grave and bury myself alive. So yeah, my classmates just crowd around me and when I say everyone I mean everyone, even the people I had never talked to (which were a lot btw). They all started giving me lectures at the same time about how I should "protect" my "assets" and this was in class, mind you.

Moral Lesson: wear a bra idiot!

And that’s why I never go commando when I’m outside. Only inside where I can be free. Though off course if a visitor comes I’ll have to put a bra on and if I’m on my period then the underwear is gonna have to be on- okay, I think this is too much information. Pretty sure that was embarrassing enough. If you're a girl maybe you understand. If you're a guy reading this, I apologise in arrears if you even managed to get this far without puking.

My most embarrassing moment is one I will never forget.

I asked my sister to hook me up with a guy she hung out with.

He had been around several times and I was too shy to

speak.

She agreed, but not telling me when and my night was about to be bleak.

I met a guy later that day and we decided to hang out.

He came over, we chilled, we were a match no doubt.

Then a knock came at the front door, I look through the peephole.

It was my sister and the guy, I felt like an a**hole!

I told the guy to get behind me on the sofa under the cover.

My sister came in with her key my day was completely over.

She shook me I said hi, and my day was a mess.

I explained it to my new guy later, I felt I had to confess.

I never talked to the guy I wanted, but I kept the guy I met.

Embarrassed was my middle name, I was put to the test.

Have you ever gotten one of those terrible back knots that feels like you've just been stung by a bee? They're no fun, but putting pressure on it or getting a friend to help you work it out really helps. We were in the habit of getting to school early, my sister and I, and one morning before physics she went to put her bag down she got a terrible stinger. I knew it hurt like anything, but quite frankly I had had my fill of working out back knots. So instead of helping her, I did the only thing a sibling could, to show the full depth of my devotion to family. I hunched one shoulder over and did my best impression of Marty Feldman in the movie Young Frankenstein. My sister was standing there frantically trying to deal with the stinger when a strange expression came over her. She tilted her head to indicate to me that I should turn around. I did, and there was our physics teacher with a look of puzzlement on his face.

"Well, that was quite the, ah, little dance," he said after a full thirty seconds of us all just standing there awkwardly.

I then, of course, had to explain the entire thing. It turned out he had had a similar experience before and completely understood, but it was still mortifying to have to explain to one of my favorite teachers why I was doing a heartfelt hunchbach impersonation when he walked into the room.