10/27/2011

How to Make a Bad Week Worse

Story Sent in by Bruce:

Nicole and I had seen each other for three dates before she invited me over to her apartment to order in and watch a movie. I asked her what I could bring, and she said, "Something to drink." I brought a bottle of cabernet sauvignon.

We ordered in pizza, then set up a movie. About five minutes into it, she asked me, "Where's the wine?"

I had left it on her kitchen counter, so I stood up to open it and grab two wine glasses from her cupboard. When I brought the filled wine glasses over to the couch, she took one and said, "That's not exactly what I had in mind."

I asked, "What did you have in mind?"

She toasted my glass as I held it and she stood up, took the open bottle from the counter, and carried it over. She then drank down her wine from the glass and then brought the actual entire bottle to her lips and drank down more, straight up.

"Um… Nicole?" I asked, "What are you doing?"

She replied, "I've had a really rough week. I've been looking forward to this and all I want to do is relax."

She drank down more of the wine, right from the bottle, for what seemed like a solid minute. She then put the bottle down, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sighed, and leaned back on the couch.

"Anything you want to talk about?" I asked.

"No," she said, and we watched the movie in silence for a while. That is, until a horrid gurgling noise came from the direction of her stomach.

"Whoa," she said, "Excuse me." She stood up and ran for the bathroom. I waited about two minutes before I left the couch t check on her.

I knocked on the bathroom door and asked her if she was okay. She said, "Yup! Just on the toilet!"

I thought it would be wise to wait outside the bathroom door, as I imagined that she would soon perhaps be a bit sicker than she was letting on.

I didn't have long to wait. A couple of loud, trumpet-like sounds emanated from the bathroom, and then I heard her say, Oh, God…" and then the unmistakable splatter of vomit followed. Then again.

"Nicole?" I asked, "What can I get you?"

"Oh God… I'm going to die! Oh God… my…" and more puking.

"I'm going to call an ambulance," I said, then to confirm, I added, "Okay?"

Soft shuffling noises, but no words. I tried the door. It was unlocked. I opened it and found her an awful shade of green and stooped over the toilet. There was a mess everywhere. She was shaking. I ran to grab a blanket, found one, threw it over her, sat her down on the edge of her bathtub, and said, "I'm calling an ambulance."

In response, she puked all over my feet. I left the bathroom, made the phone call, and waited with her as she shuddered violently until two paramedics arrived. I followed them outside as they helped her into their ambulance, and waited as they did whatever they were did.

After a while, one of them emerged and told me that she was going to be fine, although they wanted to drive her to the hospital all the same. They took off with her. I went back into the apartment, shut everything off, poured the rest of the wine down the drain, locked up, and drove to the hospital, myself. I really wanted to make sure that she was going to be okay.

She turned out fine. The incident proved to me that we wouldn't be a good match (she did the same thing and was readmitted to the hospital again months later - I wasn't there for that. She was at a party and puked into the host's fish tank), although we've remained casual acquaintances.

14 comments:

  1. Seriously, If a girl i was seeing went to the bathroom for whatever reason, I certainly would not be checking on her 2 minutes later... Then again, she did drink straight from a bottle of wine for a solid minute...is that even possible?

    ReplyDelete
  2. I saw one of my crappy college roommates' friends polish off an entire bottle of wine in ten minutes. (And then bitch a few hours later, after drinking even more, "Ooooohhhhh I'm soooo nauseous. I feel like puuuuuukiiinng? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY?" No shit you feel like puking, bro. God damn.)

    So, I suppose it could be possible. Where there's a will, there's a way?

    ReplyDelete
  3. The poor fish! Did they survive?

    ReplyDelete
  4. I like it when Rawr comments. It makes me feel like a dinosaur visits the blog, which in turn makes me happy.

    ReplyDelete
  5. ^ what does it feel like when I comment?

    ReplyDelete
  6. Like a sheet metal enema. Of awesome.

    ReplyDelete
  7. ^ sniff...you brought a tear to my eye.
    and a lump in my pants...

    ReplyDelete
  8. I'm a goddamn dinosaur. I bring class and awesome wherever I go.

    ReplyDelete
  9. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Calling the ambulance? Really?

    ReplyDelete
  11. Who checks on someone two minutes after they go to the toilet?

    FFS, give the girl some privacy.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Dude did a lot more than he had to, calling an ambulance was the cautious thing to do.

    ReplyDelete
  13. @Kristin

    You have a problem with that? I someone was in that bad of shape and didn't respond to anything I said, I'd call the ambulance too.

    And as it turned out, she had/has a serious problem. Who knows how much she had drank before he got there...

    ReplyDelete
  14. @Mediator- I guess I didn't think of how much she probably pounded before he got there. What a horrible date!

    ReplyDelete

Content Policy

A Bad Case of the Dates reserves the right to publish or not publish any submitted content at any time, and by submitting content to A Bad Case of the Dates, you retain original copyright, but are granting us the right to post, edit, and/or republish your content forever and in any media throughout the universe. If Zeta Reticulans come down from their home planet to harvest bad dating stories, you could become an intergalactic megastar. Go you!

A Bad Case of the Dates is not responsible for user comments. We also reserve the right to delete any comments at any time and for any reason. We're hoping to not have to, though.

Aching to reach us? abadcaseofthedates at gmail dot com.