Monday, 30 July 2001

Don't Drink Coffee After Dinner- A Cautionary Tale

Recently, I met a very sweet guy that I was interested in. We were about to go on our second date. Unfortunately my body conspired against me and caused me embarrassment like I have never known before.

Erik lives about 45 minutes away from me. Our plans were to go to a movie. He has picked me up for our last date, so I decided to meet him in his neighborhood this time. I went to his house and he cooked me dinner. All was going well…and then I made the big mistake. I drank coffee. Then we went for a walk. A long walk. Uphill, might I add.

We got back, and we were getting ready to go to the movie. My stomach made the dreaded rumble that can only mean whatever you ate is going to soon make a hasty exit. I didn’t want to have diarrhea at his house. I figured I could hold it until the movie theater (everyone else is always stinking up public restrooms so why should I be any different?). We headed out. “Oh, look at the time,” said Erik, “we’re 20 minutes from the theater, I don’t think we are going to make it.” I don’t think I’m going to make it, I thought, and my stomach gurgled in reply. We drove on for a moment, and noticed that the same movie was also playing at a theater right down the block, unbeknownst to us and also Moviefone, apparently. It was playing one hour later. Erik got tickets. He said we could go back to his house and hang out a while longer. “Um…” I said, (uuuurgh, I was thinking) “I feel a little nauseous, could be stop somewhere and get a Sprite or something?” Erik said sure, then added, “I hope it wasn’t my cooking.” Poor guy. It was the damn coffee and my nerves.

We stopped at a 7-11. D’oh! I had been hoping for somewhere with a bathroom. Then I noticed a pizza joint next store. A chorus of Handel’s “Messiah” sounded in my head. I told Erik that I was going to go in and use their restroom because I felt like I was going to throw up (somehow that seemed less unpleasant than telling him the truth). So I snuck into their restroom. Full on traveler’s type ‘rhea. At least that is over with, I thought unknowingly.

We drove back to Erik’s house. I started up the stairs and felt dizzy. “Oh man, I think I’m going to puke!” I said (for real this time). “It’s okay,” Erik said, “you can throw up over their if you need to” (right there being over the side of the porch and into the bushes). “Okay,” I said, “YAAAAAARRRRRRK!” And up came the remains of the nice dinner he cooked for me. He went inside. Oh man, he is hating me, I thought. He came back with a cold washrag that he placed on my forehead, and he put his arm around me. He looked at me very earnestly and asked if I had an eating disorder.

We went inside and I felt so dumb. “I’m really embarrassed,” I said. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be embarrassed.” He asked if I wanted tea or anything. I didn’t. I went to lie down. He put the TV on with no sound. Erik got out his guitar and played me a little song. “Don’t be embarrassed…” he sang, “we all get a little sick sometimes…it happens to the best of us…especially when ‘NSYNC is on the TV…” My stomach hurt when I laughed.

Prior to this, we had only shared one quick goodnight kiss. I figured that after this little adventure, there would be no kissing for the ol’ gal tonight. But happily, later on (after the movie and me brushing my teeth) I got a proper kiss. So I guess, as they say, all’s well that ends well. Although, I couldn’t help thinking of that quote from Wayne’s World: “If you blow chunks and she comes back, she’s yours. But if you spew and she bolts, it was never meant to be.”

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