“I’m not 17, I’m a grown-arse woman. I just regularly make childish mistakes.”
– Tracey, Chewing Gum
In today’s blog, I am going to tell you about a ridiculous, embarrassing mistake. The first person I told was my good pal Jessica, who greeted this story with howls of laughter followed by ‘you’re definitely going to tell the blog this, aren’t you? You HAVE to.’ And yeah… I am committed to telling you my silliest fuckups as well as my sexiest fucks, so I guess I do have to. This is a story about chewing gum, and the question of how soon in a budding relationship is too soon to be a fuckup.
My new dude doesn’t smoke. And by ‘new dude’ I mean this guy: he of the bracelet game and picking me up and spanking the sorry out of me. I like him. That’s all you’re getting for now, and that’s all you need. This is a man I like, who I’m reasonably keen to impress.
He doesn’t smoke, because he’s a good and healthy boy. So when I go to visit him, I have a quick fag before I ring the doorbell, then chew gum on the way upstairs so I can kiss him when I arrive without giving him a mouthful of nicotine and horror.
Then, because I’ve usually cycled over in a delightfully sweaty manner, I pop to the bathroom so I can shower and change out of my cycling clothes. After my shower, when my mouth is fresh and minty, I wrap my chewing gum in a tissue and dispose of it.
On this particular evening, I did everything the way I usually would (or so I thought), then emerged fresh from the bathroom ready for wine and dinner and hot make-outs and shagging. It was the day after the new lockdown had been announced, so we were both feeling a bit miserable about the world, and we began by making dinner to take our minds off the plague.
At some point after dinner, we started making out, and honestly team he was being so hot I almost – almost – just dragged him straight to the bedroom at that point. But I’d felt something a bit weird in my knickers while we were snogging and thought ‘hmm… maybe I’ve come on my period? It would be odd timing but I should probably check.’
So I made my classy excuses, popped to the bathroom, pulled down my knickers and…
Ugh. Fuck. No. Ew. WHAT.
There was chewing gum in my knickers.
Not just there, also literally in my pubic hair. Have you ever had chewing gum in your hair? It’s an absolute bitch to remove. Strings of minty-fresh goop stretched between my gusset and my pubes, and I had to spend quite a while picking away at them with my fingernails to try and get rid of the worst of it.
Deductive reasoning tells me that what must have happened is that earlier in the evening, I went for a pee after my shower, absent-mindedly wrapped my chewing gum in some tissue, then forgot that was the chewing gum tissue before I went to wipe.
Me and my minty-fresh pubes were very full of regret.
How soon is too soon to be a fuckup?
I swiftly realised I had two possible choices.
- Tell this man, who I have promised I’ll be entirely honest with, about the whole ‘chewing gum pubes’ situation and hope that he finds it funny instead of utterly disgusting.
- Explain to him that I’m feeling a bit down and not massively up for sex tonight, thus sidestepping the immediate issue but giving myself a pointless, pathetic lie with which to torture myself when I wake up at 4 in the morning.
GOTN would do 1, because of course she would: she’s literally publishing this story for all of you to read because she likes to disgust as well as arouse you, the least she can do is tell the guy she likes about it. I should do 1. But of course I pick 2. Because although I pretend to be wise here on the blog… and I try my best to approach life with honesty… and I trust this guy not to go running for the hills when he finds out I’ve been a big fuckup… I still have fucking CHEWING GUM IN MY PUBES. Chewing gum. In my PUBES.
It is hard to think straight when you’re consumed with shame, and I made a poor decision. Incidentally, I have dined out off this story when chatting to all my mates (shoutout to Claire from my second book who now refers to me as ‘gummy pubes’) and the most frequent piece of feedback I have received from them is that they are genuinely surprised I didn’t immediately tell him what had happened. To quote someone who knows me very well: “lying about this is incredibly off-brand for you.”
I know. I know. I know. I just wasn’t ready for that conversation while the waves of embarrassment were still crashing over me. This guy thinks I’m cool! He thinks I’m sexy! He literally reads my sex blog! He will hear this story and realise that the first and (so far) only night we have hung out and not had sex was not entirely down to post-lockdown sadness but partly because I’m a total fuckup who accidentally deposited a wad of chewing gum in her knickers.
Later that evening, as we were chatting and kissing and generally having fun, he confessed that he thought I was cooler than him. I explained a few reasons why the opposite is actually the case but it took every ounce of my self-control not to include:
“Dude. How much chewing gum do you have in your pubes at this exact moment? If the answer is ‘less than some’, I promise you are far, far cooler than me.”