David Tieck was used to allowing his endless array of humiliating memories crush his spirits, when one day he had a bright idea—to use his most excruciating memories to inspire a challenge or adventure that would finally allow him to become thankful for his past. What could possibly go wrong? Tieck was about to find out the biggest life lesson of all: nothing in life ever goes as planned.
In his memoir, Tieck opens a door into his unequivocally embarrassing life while sharing how he learned to deal with the many memories keeping him from realizing true happiness. As Tieck relives such awkward moments as being dumped halfway through losing his virginity, unsuccessfully attempting to woo a Hollywood actress, and nervously performing stand-up comedy in front of complete strangers, he provides an intimate glimpse into his imperfect, yet heartwarming efforts at creating his own destiny.
The Embarrassing Memory Murderer shares one man’s journey through life as he comes to grips with his past, finds his adventurous spirit, and offers hope, wisdom, and understanding to anyone who is ready to let go and laugh about their own disconcerting moments.
THE EMBARRASSING-MEMORY MURDERER
The disaster that was my foolish year desperately trying to finally overcome being that weird, short, fat, shy, penisless, quiet loser you used to pick on in schoolBy David TieckiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012 David Tieck
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4759-6340-3Chapter One
TRY HARD
`There is only one memory from my life that I have both cried thinking about and jerked off thinking about,' I said into the microphone. `I am, of course, talking about how I got dumped halfway through losing my virginity.'
It was late 2009, and I had descended into the bowels of an old building in Greenwich Village in New York City to perform standup comedy for the very first time. After well over a decade of being quite likely the shyest human being alive, I was about to do perhaps the most daunting thing I could imagine.
CB's Comedy Club was surprisingly packed, the crowd mostly made up of fellow rookie comedians, and I had decided that for my first performance, instead of telling a bunch of made up jokes, why not just go all in and share a humiliating story I swore I would never tell another soul.
After nervously sitting through a plethora of performances by shaky-voiced rookies telling jokes to a room full of shaky-handed rookies waiting to take their turn—meaning that pretty much everyone was far too worried about their own upcoming set to be in a position to laugh at anything at all—suddenly my name was called.
My knees trembled as I made my way to the microphone, and I was worried that when I tried to talk nothing would come out. I considered fleeing, but instead screamed inside my brain. `Just fucking do it!' and my mouth opened, and my embarrassing story began to flow out.
As the above opening line left my tongue, something truly amazing happened; laughter rose up from the audience. Not belly laughs, mostly snickering, but I had officially earned my first ever stand-up comedy laugh. I looked out over the audience and noticed that faces were now looking up from their notepads. The rookies' attentions had been grabbed, and it was up to me to deliver.
I paused for a moment, and then told the following story:
On this fateful day, I was two weeks shy of my twenty-first birthday, caked in so much acne I looked like a burn victim, finally going through an awkward growth spurt and only part way to losing the excessive chub that had plagued my teens, as shy and timid as any human has ever been before and the only way I could have been more of a virgin is if Jesus suddenly plopped out of my genitals. I'd only even had my first kiss earlier that same year, and at this stage the most intimate thing I had done involving a girl was probably listening to one peeing through a bathroom door, thinking, `Wow, a girl's vagina is exposed on the other side of that wood.'
The girl, on the other hand, was an impossibly gorgeous teenage blond, with a smile so amazing a mere glimpse made the skin melt off my body, and she was well practiced in the celebrated art of allowing men to stick their dicks in her holes. We'd been dating for around two weeks, by which I mean I'd make horrifically awkward phone calls to her every couple of days, and she refused to tell her friends about the time we'd made out once, or be seen in public with me.
Then one day, out of the blue, she called me. It was a stinking hot summers day and she called to say that she had consumed a few alcoholic beverages, that her dad was out of town, and she was bored and wanted to know if I'd like to come over. `Maybe she wants to have sex' I joked to myself `ha ha, you crack me up Dave, as if you'll ever have sex', then I had a minor panic attack about the thought of trying to make conversation, having already used up all thirty seconds of my repertoire talking to her on the phone, however failing to think of an excuse to get out of it, I decided to go.
When I arrived I found her at the door in a bikini top and short skirt. She put on a movie of some description, but we began talking over it. At this point of my life I had picked up a hobby of trying to learn new words and pepper them into my conversation in a pathetic attempt to impress people. With pathetic the only tool in my toolbox, this was the tactic I used now, and so I uttered some word new to me, but probably not new to most people over the age of twelve, something like `zenith', `plethora' or `obviously trying too hard you moron' and then I proceeded to immediately give her a highly pretentious definition of my fancy word. This pissed her off immensely `I don't need a fucking definition, do you talk to all your friends like that or do just want me to know that you think I am stupid?' She snapped at me, and I apologized profusely, and then decided to let her raise the next topic of conversation.
Perhaps because she wanted to prove her age and experience to me, or perhaps because it was her plan all along, she chose the topic of sex. And perhaps because she wanted to prove her age and experience to me, or perhaps because it was her plan all along she now gave me a far too detailed description of her sexual history to date.
I was shocked to discover that although she had participated in numerous sexual acts, she had yet to receive oral sex. Being a gentleman, and well because the only thing I could think to say in this moment were insults towards the assholes that had got to her before me, I assured her that if she'd allowed guys to have sex with her, and given them oral, and they hadn't even offered to reciprocate, then they were assholes. I went on to say that I would go down on her anytime, anywhere. She told me that I was sweet, then she accepted my offer, and I threw up in my mouth a little, and took off her bikini bottoms.
I approached this task, which was a first for me also, full of panic, and with the strategy of a man in his twenties who has seen it done a million times in porn, but with an inkling that in the non-porn version I may have to omit jamming my entire fist inside her, and instead try to be gentle. Somehow, this approach actually proved successful; she moaned a lot, and then pulled my face to hers and she spat at me, `Bullshit you've never done that before!' At that moment I swelled with, among other things, considerable pride. Also, having performed my oral duties, and having had them received so well, I knew that if I didn't to go for that `penetration' maneuver I'd heard so much about now, then I would remain a virgin for life.
Shocking myself monumentally, I did in fact go for it; I believe I actually asked for permission, as sweetly as I could of course, `may I, now, um please, um if you don't mind, you know, um, fuck you now'. Given an enthusiastic yes I grabbed at my football team adorned Velcro wallet, and pulled out an extremely old condom, purchased in a grimy convenience store bathroom, unwrapped it awkwardly and then I rolled it on.
I did actually know how to do this, as I had done it several times previously; girls practice kissing on their female friends (apparently, and don't let me watch) and I sat at home practicing putting on condoms before falling asleep crying at the fact that I'd eventually have to pull it off without it being inserted into anything other than the hole in a melon! (Actually, I never tried this. I did have a special teddy though).
I was about to have sex. `OH MY GOD I'M ACTUALLY GOING TO DO THIS!!!' I was thinking, as the inevitable HUGE problem became clear. It was a stinking hot summer's day, and I'd refreshed my thirst many times in the preceding hours, and...
