My date wet the bed and pretended nothing had happened

You understand when folks advise you to not date work colleagues? I’d by no means paid an excessive amount of consideration to that.

In spite of everything, it’s the place you spend a lot of your time; it seems like a simple place to satisfy somebody, particularly if you‘re in your 20s and there are nights out each week.  

However I realized the exhausting means what can occur when issues don’t go fairly to plan – and by plan, I imply not having somebody again to remain in a single day and waking as much as discover that they've moist the mattress (the mattress = my mattress). 

Ben* was a catch. As quickly as I’d began working within the workplace of the TV manufacturing firm – 21 years previous and contemporary out of uni – I’d seen him. He was in his early thirties, a director, and he all the time wore beautiful, beautiful jumpers. A lot so, actually, that my buddies even referred to him as ‘jumper man.’ 

He had type eyes, was humorous, and we’d usually take cigarette breaks on the similar time. He made me giggle and favored good music. 

When he’d instructed grabbing a drink after work one Friday, over a Marlborough Crimson out the again, I hadn’t hesitated to say sure. ‘Are you asking me on a date?’ I’d requested, laughing.

‘We are able to name it no matter you want,’ he answered, smiling again at me. Such type, type eyes. I used to be bought.  

From there on, we exchanged fixed emails, shared hyperlinks to bands that we favored, and flirted outrageously with one another. Then, the next Friday, we completed work and snuck off, not telling anybody else our pub plan. They weren’t invited. This, was a date. 

We had spoken about going to get some meals however, in the long run, we determined to get straight on the beers. And the gins. And the tequilas. And the vodkas. You get the thought. We had been completely hammered inside a few hours and, mortifyingly, full on kissing one another within the pub. 

Nevertheless it wasn’t all smooching. He advised me about his upbringing, I advised him about mine. We shared tales of previous relationships, and hopes for the long run. It was probably the greatest dates I’ve ever been on. 

After hours of dancing, ingesting, smoking, and kissing, he got here again to mine. We listened to extra music, drank lukewarm beers. And he stayed the night time which, as I mentioned, was by no means the plan.  

I used to be left to cope with the aftermath, together with a piss stained mattress

I awoke the following morning, groggily opened my eyes and squinted into the sunshine streaming by way of the blinds in my bed room window. My head was pounding. 

The room smelled totally different. It smelled of another person’s physique, another person’s stale alcohol. 

There was a physique subsequent to me, the cover rising and falling with every breath they took. For a second, I had an entire clean. Then, all of it got here again to me.

I lay there, nonetheless and attempting to not transfer. It was by no means supposed to finish up like this however right here we had been – and I used to be glad. I favored him and we’d had a very good night time. 

Cautious to not wake him up, I moved my physique, shifting place to get snug. However as I moved, my pores and skin peeled off of the sheet under me, and I felt a sticky, chilly, moist sensation.

After a short evaluation of the state of affairs, I realised that Ben will need to have moist the mattress throughout the night time. My mattress. And now, he – somebody who I labored with day by day within the workplace – was mendacity there, in his personal piss. Whereas I lay subsequent to him, within the periphery of his piss. 

I stealthily left the room and snuck to the toilet. My pyjamas had been moist, and my pores and skin was clammy. We’d clearly been mendacity in it for a while.

It’s not fully uncommon. Statistics recommend that 2% of males have this drawback – however in fact, it’s almost definitely underreported because it’s an embarrassing matter. And the difficulty is made a lot worse by ingesting, because of the truth that alcohol suppresses the discharge of the antidiuretic hormone – which is accountable for stopping the manufacturing of urine.

So yeah, it occurs – and it wasn’t that I used to be even disgusted by it, or judging him. I simply didn’t know what to do. 

Now, comes the weirdest half. As I’ve mentioned, I didn’t know what to do. So, after altering my pyjamas as quietly as a ninja, I acquired again in my mattress, avoiding the big, moist patch on my sheet, clearly. 

I lay down and confronted away from him. 

My logic was, if I acquired up, he’d know I knew and it will be an excessive amount of embarrassment for anybody to deal with. If I lay there dealing with away from him, pretending that I had no concept what had occurred, it will be as much as him to determine what to say. 

After about quarter-hour, he awoke. I felt him stir, after which he mentioned ‘morning.’

And, reader, I child you not – we lay and chatted in my soaking moist mattress for round 20 minutes earlier than he mentioned that he wanted to get going. He then acquired up, pulled on his garments, and left. 

I used to be left to cope with the aftermath, together with a piss stained mattress. And, on Monday within the workplace, we simply… pretended none of it had ever occurred. We barely ever acknowledged the date; we solely went for cigarette breaks if different folks had been going, and the flirting all however stopped. 

Wanting again, I want each of us had handled the state of affairs higher – if nothing else to take care of a friendship, and have a smoking buddy at work. However, we returned to an amicable but distant state at work, and that was that. 

So sure, in future, I'd be extra inclined to take heed to recommendation and be cautious about courting individuals who I work with. 


So, How Did It Go?

So, How Did It Go? is a weekly Metro.co.uk collection that may make you cringe with second-hand embarrassment or ooze with jealousy as folks share their worst and finest date tales.

Need to spill the beans about your individual awkward encounter or love story? Contact jess.austin@metro.co.uk


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