The Stomach Demon
After a string of really bad dates, I decided to simply make more time for my pets. After all they really do appreciate me.
And what would going to bed be like if I didn’t have to fight for a small space of my own on my king-sized bed. The landscape of the mattress is ever changing. Start with one dog on the bed, one under the bed and one in a chair. Then two on the bed, one under, followed by one on again, one under, and one in corner on floor. Then three on top and so on all night. But I get wonderful good morning loves from my sweethearts. They prefer I don’t date so they get more time with me. Not having children, I wonder if this jealousy thing happens for single moms? Probably ten fold.
But back on topic, I was surprised by a chance for a date with a seemingly nice guy I met on Tinder. He lived about an hour away from me. Considering I am in a small area, chances are that everyone I meet will require a bit of travel to meet them. But I’m game. My Prius gets great mileage!
Even better, he had been a vegetarian and understood my dietary choices. He even offered to cook for me using one of his vegetarian cookbooks. Now, this is about the sweetest thing any guy has offered to do for me in about three years. I am really excited. Despite busy schedules we finally fine a good time to get together.
I don’t get lost finding his place…Woohoo, and I make good time. I approach the door full well knowing he won’t look like his profile picture and I need to be on high alert at all times. (I should probably invest in a taser, but after “The Night I was Held Captive by Little People”, I don’t think that is a wise idea.) He will later discover that he should have been the one on high alert.
But to my surprise when the door opens, there is a really nice looking guy standing there. Lucky me! Yes, it was the correct door. He invites me in and we have a glass of wine and start talking. He is smart, articulate, funny, with an adventure-seeking spirit much like mine. I was actually having a really nice time. He proceeds to begin preparing the dinner-which in itself is so rare. Nothing out of a can or thrown in the microwave. He knows what he is doing.
A few more glasses of wine later, we sit down to enjoy his work. And it is delicious. I am duly impressed. What a wonderful ti#%…. wait…what is that feeling? It can’t be. I’m about to vomit. No preceding nausea or sweating. No warning. It is coming up my throat right now!
And without further ado, I begin hurling violently.
I am running for the bathroom desperately trying to catch spewing pasta and walnuts, bathed in a lovely red from the wine. But the force with which I am expelling my stomach contents is no doubt damaging everything it hits. And the noise, oh the beautiful noise of my upper intestines convulsing, spewing, wrenching every inch of life out of me and no doubt waking anyone in a twenty block radius. There were “artistic ” splatters on the walls, floor, cabinets, and remarkably a little even made it into the toilet. I think I chipped some paint on the wall behind the toilet. Did I mention it sounded like an exorcism of a foul-mouthed stomach demon?
To his credit, he came and held my medusa hair out from the spill zone. And seemed genuinely concerned. I think I threw up for about ten minutes but it sure felt longer. And then I was done. For the night. I was exhausted. I think the stomach demon took all my energy with it when it came hurdling out. My date had to work early so probably didn’t want to stay the night with this crazed women who just ruined his immaculate apartment. Whoops! I tried to clean a little but I was a bit blurry eyed. I thought I might have ruptured an eyeball and detached a retina. And this great man was incredibly kind. Of course he was. I had no second chance here. No man should hear those sounds coming from a woman he just met. Oh no. Not really sure the sounds were meant for anyone’s ears.
So I returned home, knowing no future date was likely. I did message him and apologize. I ended up being sick for a few days. He told me not to worry, but when I offered to fix him dinner to try and redeem myself, he declined and I think he moved out of the country.
On a bright note, it did happen one other time when I was alone at home. Out of nowhere, a torrential current of vomit suddenly comes streaming up my throat and proceeds to expel itself in the loudest and most vomit-covering fashion. I see the dogs scattering. Even they didn’t want to have anything to do with me. Ah well. I just need to figure out how to summon the stomach demon for dates that are going poorly. That would make it useful. He’s a jerk? I vomit on his shirt. Just looking on the bright side.
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