When past mealtimes rebel…
This happened a few months ago, but it’s now a running joke with my coworkers.
I had been seeing this guy a couple of times, and for our third date we went to a restaurant that was serving a special dinner for Restaurant Week.
Now, I’ll preface this with the fact that I had a questionable lunch. When we got to the restaurant, I felt suddenly hot, and sweaty on and off.
“Is it warm in here?”
“No, it’s actually just perfect…” Maybe I was just thirsty and needed to drink more water.
Then the salad came out.
“Do you feel okay?”
“Sure, I haven’t eaten in a little bit so I must be just hungry.”
This was the last thing I said on this date, I proceeded to projectile vomit on the salad, on myself, and partially on my date. Oh, and before you ask, he’s the one that said “I think you should go home now.”
On my way home from my “date” I also had to pull over and continue to vomit in the street. It was food poisoning. I never heard from the guy again.