Too young to handle!

If we could only erase some memories!

At the shy age of 19 years old, in 1997, working in a cafe to earn my keep, I received a promotion that would see me transfer to a nearby, larger cafe of the same company.

My colleagues, a wild bunch of equally spotty, young, teens with an odd sense of humour, decided to throw a little leaving party for me involving the usual combo of hangover assured mix of alcohols, loud music, and dodgy cheap presents!

The pub was chosen, pints and jugs on our table, my team leader, ''Jake'' who had asked me several times to go out with, (and was always met by different tones of ''no thank you'') thought nothing better but to buy me as a leaving present, a laughable HUGE, unuseable vibrator (unless you're a horse) along with other inadequate tidbits to amplify his frustrated grudge-on-a-stick message (literally) through his ''presents'', probably envisioning me in a solitary indulgence amounting to a hysterical paroxysm!; Jake decided to take it a notch further by removing the hellish dong from its packaging, turned it on and put it against the wooden table we were sat at, where the vibrations felt like an earthquake was on its way! to the general laughing fit of the team (ooooooh the harassment case this would be today!), being young and silly but as well good nature with a positive (and naive) sense of humor, I uneasily laughed too; the massive weapon of mass-turbation was put in an opened bag (the kind you carry your take away coffee and croissant from the local cafe) and the drinks and the company blurred the lines of the ridiculous discomfort of the whole evening... unbeknown to me.... the worst was yet to come!

after a couple of hours, quite tipsy, but only just, as my first shift was the next day in the other cafe, I hugged my peers goodbye and left them merry on the way to hangover land and made mine to the subway... not wanting to appear ungrateful for their silly cheap offerings, I kept the bag of goodies with me to discard at home instead; it was a Friday night so the streets were full and bussing with echoes of laughter over a breeze of booze in the air, from the packed Soho area of this hot summer night in London.

The subway was very busy! it was the last hour of the Central Line trains before the subway closed with many eager travelers and party-goers alike, to come home not wanting to pocket booze money on an advantageous taxi home; I got in a wagon, all seats full, but after a couple of stops, the first seat of the line, freed itself where I quickly and nonchalantly squeezed into, putting the bag of goodies between my feet; the train closed its doors, departed from the platform, slowly than gaining a bit of speed only to stall and come to a sharp halt where we were all shaken like rag dolls! in a short, but hectic time span, the abrupt halt had spilled the bag I had between my feet where this humongous dildo jumped out, turned itself on and rolled -ALL THE WAY-, to the entire length of the carriage to the view of every single passenger present and ended up jackhammering the shoe of a young corporate lad who was so embarassed, he turned crimson red, not daring to even move his shoe out of the way from this extra noisy eggbeater, perfectly audible in the now very still and shockingly quiet wagon!! I died inside and felt each second passing, turning to a millennium! having no choice but to stand up and walk, with as much grace as a toothless chav with scoliosis attempting to take a stroll on a Versace fashion catwalk that felt like an extremely long walk of shame at the height of my zero confidence 19th year of age, picked up my teetery-bender from the now, turned to stone young suit and tie mortified lad who would've probably preferred, to nail his family jewels to his knees than to make eye contact with me! and in a near trembling voice, sweating like a wh*re in church, stated ''Girls, just wanna have fun!'' on the tune of Cindy Lauper's hit!; turning back, begging the heavens to melt me onto the carriage's floor, or zap me from existence, I sat back down where a mosquito could've been heard flying; I cannot recall how long the train was stopped for but it felt like an eternity!

Unable to face the gaze of the passengers, I left at the next stop! actually, ''left'' isn't strong enough a word! ''fled'' is more like it! and grabbed the next train. It goes without saying, I did not wait to reach home to ditch that bag!

Out of many embarrassing moments in my life, this remains to be the most humiliating one, where the remembering itself, is like injury anew! Thank God 1997 was not yet the age of social media as I can bet, I would've become a social media phenomenon... all for the wrong reasons! although now, I'd probably laugh and hum a tune of ''Voulez vous coucher avec moi?... ce soir?'' then get off for a further shot of tequila before going home! It goes to show, what doesnt kill you, makes you stronger.