I’m going to level with you; there is no way I can tell this story without coming across as an arsehole. But I don’t pretend to be without fault, so judge away if you must. Just do me a favour please, stay to the end and try and imagine how you would feel in the moment.

Years ago, I had one of those friends who would always have a boyfriend, and she would always become a carbon copy of him – adopting his interests, his opinions, his friends…you get the picture. So for a brief period, this particular version of my friend would enjoy a slightly grotty pub with her boyfriend and all of his lads in tow. In fairness, they weren’t that bad, and I would occasionally join them all for a few drinks. I never got too invested though as the chances of this relationship lasting the course were as likely as this story having a happy ending.

Funnily enough, that situation ended as messily as expected, and soon enough that group of guys was filed away somewhere in the recesses of my memory. Until years later, when I was paying for my meal deal at the self checkout, I looked up to see a familiar face looking back at me. We had an awkward moment where we both clearly recognised each other but didn’t know why, and then after a moment he said, ‘Oh my god, I thought it was you!’.

Long story short, he had moved away but was back in the area for a few days for work and was staying in a hotel in town. We ended up making plans to meet later for a drink, which quickly turned to a few drinks, and, you guessed it, soon turned to me heading to his hotel room with him. And that’s where things got…interesting.

Again, I would like to make it clear that I am not proud of what happened next. But I am human. And I am far from perfect. And…just bear with me.

So we are sitting on the edge of the bed, and things are clearly going a certain way. Nothing has been said specifically, but all the right moves are happening. Buttons are unbuttoning, lips are locking, bodies are becoming more horizontal…you get the picture. When, without saying a word, he stands up, faces me, and drops his jeans and boxers to the floor with a sort of half-baked ‘ta da!’ style gesture.

This is awkward, right? Just standing there, staring at me with his pants round his ankles. Well what makes it even more uncomfortable is that what he is showing off is, for lack of a better term, a micro-penis. And I’m not being harsh – it was like a nipple. And he had manscaped so it wasn’t even like it was hiding away in the bush.

I could tell he felt nervous and uncomfortable, and I really didn’t know what to say or do, so I went for;

‘It’s O.K. I’m sure it gets bigger when it gets hard’

‘It is hard now’

This was my opportunity to show what a mature, sensitive, open-minded woman I am.

And then it happened. I laughed. Not a big laugh, but a small, awkward giggle escaped my mouth. I just want to be clear here – I was not laughing at him. It was just so awkward! I felt so awful in the moment but I just didn’t know what to do. And obviously he just left and locked himself in the bathroom.

But honestly – was that the right way to handle that situation? I truly don’t have an issue with penis size. I’ve been around long enough to know that size doesn’t always matter (although let’s get real – it does play a part). But why did he reveal it in such a dramatic way? I am sure if he’d have just talked about it beforehand it wouldn’t have been such an awkward moment and things would have gone a lot more smoothly. He probably thought he was being bold or playful and I just felt incredibly uncomfortable – an issue that could have been solved with better communication perhaps? But then I also appreciate how difficult that must have been for him so I can’t judge him really.

I sat there for a while and waited, but he was clearly avoiding me and so I thought the right thing to do was just leave. I still don’t know if that was the right thing to do, but we never exchanged numbers and never spoke again, so I’ll never find out!

I may not get the chance to make up for my poor decisions that night, but I did walk away learning a valuable lesson; my dick sense isn’t as reliable as I thought!

L xo

PS – Hate mail can be sent to PO Box AITA