Good God does it suck to get sick on a date. I’m not normally a puker, but when I let loose, it’s loud and uncomfortable to be around. Just so we dive right into graphic (for this post is not for the weak of stomach), I have an intestinal disease and literally puke from my intestines.
Ok. So. Now that you have that image/ sound, let me get started with this post. This is actually my first post where I have input from some friends who were gracious enough to allow me to tell their stories, and their stories will be mixed in.
For me, this situation has not happened tooooo frequently, but the few times I have hurled on a date sure are memorable.
The first time was probably my personally most awkward. So, here’s some TMI for you (as if this blog wasn’t enough…?!): if I am drunk or even slightly tipsy, and I make out with you, I will 99.9% guaranteed puke on you.
That’s right: puke ON you. It happens quickly. That’s why I said make out instead of sleep with. You won’t make it to the sleep with part.
Be glad you’re not the person who discovered this. But then again, that poor bastard just had to test it a few times to make sure that was my trigger, so I don’t feel all that bad. He kinda saved everyone who came after (tho there has been the occasional brave/ idiotic person who has tested this theory. Here’s a friendly tip: if someone says they’re a puker, and are kind enough to tell you a trigger, for God’s sake don’t fucking test it. Unless that’s your fetish. Which is fine. Just let that person know it’s your fetish so they don’t feel awkward.).
So now if there’s a chance of making out or sex, I cut myself off after one drink. Why spoil the fun? That’s not the extra lube most people are looking for.
And now for some fun stories:
Like that time a friend was on a date, and they went for a run. He encouraged her to sprint towards the end, and she took about 2 sprinting steps and hurled everywhere. She got mega points for the effort and being that hardcore…but he didn’t reward with a kiss…because…well…yeah.
One time I had a medical procedure done earlier in the day…and I felt drinking beers in the evening was a good idea. I had a broken foot at the time, and barely crutched it over to the bathroom on the other side of the bar before I let loose. Ok. So. I didn’t actually make it. But that’s what hands are for (yes I burned those crutch handles). I thought he didn’t notice (ok, hoped and fucking prayed he didn’t), but he did. When I got back to the table, he was looking uncomfortable and was like “uh…you ok?” I, still thinking I could hide what happened, breezily said “yeah! I’m fine! Why?” To which he replied “cause you just puked in the hallway.” Oh. You noticed. Dammit.
Then there’s the friend who was on a dinner date to meet her new boyfriend’s parents for the first time. She’s not overly good on lactose, and ordered clam chowder (yes, she still questions this move)…and hurled. His mom definitely noticed.
One night I was out with a guy who I wasn’t too stoked by, but was trying to be open minded (he was a 27 year old virgin and super Christian and not a big drinker. I’m sure you have noticed these are not my traits.). He was trying to impress me and the co-workers (including his boss) that we were out with and decided to go drink for drink with me. I should mention that I was drinking beer. And he was drinking Manhattans. He puked at the table. He was kind enough to order me a cab home. I told the cab that I lived in the next neighborhood over and walked 2 miles home in heels so the guy would never know where I lived.
Another friend decided to go shot for shot with a Marine to impress her date. The rest of the night was spent in the bathroom.
Then there’s the person who found a big strong person to carry her down the stairs to her room…and projectiled All Over Them as a thank you/ parting gift.
Or that time a (slightly nauseous) friend was picked up for a date with a rich dude in a rich car…and she had to roll down the window and hurl out the side. He promptly returned her to her front doorstep.
And one of my personal faves:
A few years ago, I was on my 4th date with a guy I really liked. Ok, so I may have been shallow at that time and was more into his penthouse and luxury car. But still. I invited him to a friend’s birthday party where I proceeded to make my famous beer-garitas (equal parts limeaid, tequila, and Corona. You’re welcome.). These things are deceptively strong. And I pounded a few. I was in a mood to have fun and get laid. Both happened. But…I also found myself hurling as quietly as I could a few hours later into a very expensive toilet. I am not a quiet puker. Like, REALLY not quiet. Go back and read the first part of this post. But I did my best, drank mouthwash after, and slipped back into bed. I was sure he didn’t notice.
A week later, some friends and I were at his place having wine, and he made a comment about me not having too much so I don’t puke again. To which my dear friend yelled across the room, “Dude!! He noticed your yaking!!” Sigh. Busted.
I guess the bottom line is know your limits. Sometimes puke happens. But. Try to avoid it…and if you can’t, at least make it memorable.