[GM]Dave's Regrets - Vol. 1I'm going to go way back here to one of the first things I remember ever feeling bad about.
Really, really bad.
The funny thing is I feel bad about a really terrible person.
It was grade seven. There was a girl in my class named Randina.
No, I do not know what she did to her parents that made them hate her enough to give her such a retarded name.
What I do know is that Randina was a world class bitch. She was that girl in your class that you'd happily have pushed down a flight of stairs just to see if she bounced at the bottom.
I hated this girl and this was long before I started hating everybody.
Anyway, one day my best friend brings in a photo of me he had taken when we were hanging out. Apparently, that was not one of my better days and this photo was unbelievably embarrassing.
My junior high rep hung in the balance here, people.
As I was carefully placing the picture in my backpack for future destruction, Randina reached out, grabbed it, and ran off down the hallway laughing.
See? Total bitch.
I couldn't, just couldn't let that picture get around. This wasn't getting caught playing Pogs or something. This could be detrimental to my grade seven existence.
I started chasing her down the hall.
She was running pretty fast, but luckily, I was buzzed on a mix of recess pixie sticks, crystal Pepsi, and sudden fear.
I could have given the Flash a run for his money.
Seconds later, I was just a few feet behind her. All I had to do was reach out and grab her.
I stretched out my arm and firmly grasped her shoulder.
Correction: I stretched out my arm and attempted to firmly grasp her shoulder.
To this day, I remember grabbing her shoulder. I remember feeling her shoulder in my hand as I grasped.
Apparently, when you try to grab someone's shoulder when both of you are running, it is entirely possible to miss and grab a hold of their dress.
Only their dress.
You may or may not see where this is going.
Since I thought I had grabbed her in a sufficient manner to keep her from moving, I stopped running.
Since I was wrong, she continued running.
Her dress remained firmly in my hand.
It was kind of like that magic trick where the guy yanks a table cloth off a table, but instead of a table underneath, there was a screaming girl in her underwear.
So, to summarize, I have just chased down and then torn the clothes off of a girl because she took a picture I did not like.
In the middle of a school hallway.
If I did this today, I would probably have gotten shot in the face.
And what does a young man who has found himself in this situation do? Does he apologize profusely? Does he do his best to cover this poor, half-naked girl?
He takes his picture and walks away.
I swear to God, I'm not making that up. I looked at that girl, screaming and crying, and I just took my picture and walked away.
Honestly, I still feel a little bad about not doing more (or anything) to comfort her. I could have at least acknowledged how horrible what I had done was.
Not me. I just took my picture back and left her to sort that shit out for herself.
In my defense, it was a really bad picture.