I Walked 14 Miles Home Penniless Thanks to Two Women

It seemed to be a Saturday night just like any other Saturday night around that time. My best friend and I were both in our late-20s, and we liked to spend our weekends out on the town. My friend had recently split with his girlfriend, so he was in rebound mode and keen to be out whenever his work schedule would allow.

Being an introvert, I wasn’t particularly good at talking to the ladies unless I’d had some liquid confidence booster. Therefore, more often than not, he’d be the one who ended up a girl home, whilst I’d just be happy that I had the opportunity to speak to a few.

This night was different though. I don’t recall whether my friend went home by himself or with a woman, all I remember is that through some twist of fate, I actually ended up going back to a girl’s flat.

Now, there are a few key points to this story, some of which have become a little hazy in the 20 years since then.

Firstly, I believe the reason I went with this girl was because her female flatmate, who she was at the club with, was going to a party with some guy she met, leaving her in town with no money to get home. I did the gentlemanly thing and offered to pay for a taxi so that the girl could get safely back to her flat in another part of town.

From what I can recall, the intention may have been for me to drop her off at her flat and then carry on in the taxi to my house, which was 14 miles further away. Unfortunately, when we arrived at her building, it took all the money I had left on me, including a pocket of loose change, to pay the cab fare up to that point. So, I had to get out too. Again, the exact details are hazy, but she ended up letting me stay the night at her flat.

She was actually quite a few years younger than me (by about a decade), so I did what any socially awkward introvert gentleman would do and slept by myself on the sofa. The next morning, I awoke to the news that I would have to leave pretty soon because her parents were coming to pick her up to take her on her regular Sunday morning horse riding adventure. So, I got myself together and left.

As previously mentioned, I spent practically everything I had paying for the taxi cab the night before. I believe I was genuinely penniless. Therefore, public transport was out of the question. My only option was to walk the 14 miles to my house, so I set off. I hadn’t eaten anything for maybe 15 hours, and all I’d drunk in that time was lager. I was hungover and dehydrated, and I was now attempting a very long walk.

After about 2 miles of walking, I thought my luck was in when I came across a petrol station with a little shop. I might not have had any money to buy a drink, but at least it had a public phone so that I could phone my friend and get him to come and get me.

This was the late 1990s, and we didn’t have mobile phones at that point, so I could only reach my friend if he was at home. I had a payphone and a gamble. I dialled his number, and it rang, and it rang, and it kept ringing, but there was no answer. I figured he must be at his mum’s house, which was just a street away from his, so I decided to keep walking.

By the time I reached the next service station, 3 miles further along, another hour had passed. That service station also had a payphone, so I decided to try phoning my friend again.

Now, the more astute of you may be wondering how I was calling my friend on a payphone if I didn’t have any money on me. To be honest, I can’t remember myself. I know that I definitely couldn’t afford to buy a drink, so I’m wondering if I maybe had a lone 10 pence coin that was just enough to pay for my rescue call, if I could ever get an answer. The other possibility is that I had a prepaid phone card from work that would have allowed me to pay for the call. That sort of rings a bell, but it was too long ago to be sure.

Either way, I tried calling my friend again, and again the phone rang for a long time with no answer. This was an even harsher blow due to the fact that this particular service station marked the end of civilization for several miles.

The next stage of my journey was alongside a busy main road with no pavement, just a grass verge. It would have been too dangerous to walk the entire length of the road like that, as the verge quickly became overgrown with bushes, so I had to make a significant detour in order to walk through a nearby village.

By the time I got to the centre of the village, I’d been walking for over 2 hours and was desperately in need of a drink. The little shops in the village looked so inviting, but, alas, I didn’t have the cash. I did find another payphone, but, once again, there was no reply from my friend.

That was it now. There were no more payphones between there and my friend’s house. I’d decided to walk to my friend’s house as it was 2 miles closer than mine, and at least I knew I could get a drink there, provided he was at home. With that goal in mind, I set off to walk the final 6 miles along country lanes and busy main roads.

Finally, after 4 hours of walking, I arrived at my friend’s back garden. By that point, I was in desperate need of fluid, and just lifting my feet to walk was an effort. The Timberland boots I was wearing weighed 2 lbs each (yes, I did weigh them afterwards).

I walked up the garden path to my friend’s door and knocked. Horror! There was no answer. I knew he had to come home eventually, so I slumped down on his garden bench and waited.

As it turned out, he was at home. He’d still been in bed with a hangover, and ten minutes or so later he came into the kitchen and was surprised to see me sitting in his garden.

As I relayed the story of my 4 hour walk to him, I had to ask the obvious question…

Why didn’t he answer the phone any of those times I called?

His reply…

He thought it was his ex-girlfriend constantly ringing him, and he really didn’t want to speak to her!