Dateline: "I feel like throwing up..."
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Male, 24
with
Female, 24
6:30 p.m. - I arrive at the bar on Avenue B, sporting a rain-soaked jacket and fending off a horrible cold. I feel like throwing up.
6:40 - She texts me "hey, I'm gonna be a little late!" I respond with "no worries, I'll be in the back in the blue hat."
6:42 - I run to the bathroom to throw up/check my hair. I've just gotten an awful haircut. I dry-heave, splash water on my face, and leave the bathroom.
6:53 - She walks in. Tall Indian princess. "Hey, you're really tall," I say. She laughs and asks me what I was expecting. We sit down.
7:00 - We order beers. She asks me if I'm hungry. I decide against telling her about my recent dry-heaving session, instead toughing it out and ordering quesadillas for the two of us.
7:20 - Food arrives. I realize that quesadillas are the sexiest date food. So much melted cheese.
7:24 - We talk all about our lives. She has a successful job, speaks three languages, and lives in Manhattan. I ask her if she likes my hat and order another drink.
8:00 - Trivia night at the bar. It's on: my head is full of useless knowledge.
8:10 - The first question is asked. I laugh and say it out loud. Everyone glares at me. Yikes, I'm bad at this game.
8:20 - We're not doing so hot at trivia. But she smiles at me and touches my thigh.
8:33 - I lay my head down on the bar and admit I'm not feeling well. (Chicks dig dudes on the brink of death, right?) My huge crush outweighs the nausea.
8:40 - I touch her hands and ask her about her bracelet that says "I <3 Big Boobs." She tells me it's a breast-cancer thing. I bring up my mom's winning battle with breast cancer. Yes, I went there.
8:48 - She goes to the bathroom. I get the check and put my head down.
8:49 - I fall asleep. I actually fall fucking asleep. Holy shit.
8:51 - She comes back and wakes me up. "I feel horrible," I say. She pats my back and tells me it's time to go. I agree.
8:55 - We go outside. I ask her where to go, because I'm still new to the city. She points me in the right direction.
8:56 - "It was really nice to meet you. Text me again when you're not dying." I laugh. We hug. It's different because she's so tall, but nice.
8:59 - She leaves. I put her in my phone as "T.I.P.S." — tall Indian princess, son!
9:04 - I puke.
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Commentarium (10 Comments)
I was terrified that he'd end up puking on her mid-date. Congrats for making it through without hurling, guy!
This was damned funny. Well done man, well done. You held out until she was out of sight.
yeah, great effort and fantastic honest writing. Been there with a building explosion from the other end on a date and I'm still haunted by it. Maybe I'll send in that story...
Did you text her?! Can we get an update for Date#2?
I puked almost immediately after going down on a girl, first date hookup and all. It had nothing to do with her, it had to do with the absurd amount and type of cocktails I'd had the previous 4 hours.
The fun part is she still made out with me after I puked. Yikes.
*nauseated hero
+1 jmh! Let's go on a date!
Long story short, we were briefly official until the romance fizzled after a couple of weeks. She was a lover of pancakes and boxed wine, though. I'll always remember the words my grandfather told me in his death jacuzzi: "Find a girl who loves pancakes and lock that shit down."
Surely it can't be difficult to find women who love pancakes and boxed wine. I thought everyone likes pancakes.
why the fuck would you go through with a date if you were that sick?
Now you say something