Imagine the situation. You’ve had a great date with a really fun guy.
You met some pals for a quick bite to eat before meeting the handsome stranger at a fancy sushi restaurant – then going back to his place to carry on the evening.
But fast forward a few hours, and this woman’s evening couldn’t really have gone any worse.
She shared her story with Erika McCall and Niesha Forbes for their new book, All Good Just A Week Ago.
I had a date scheduled with this guy I met but decided to go to a cookout first.
There was some questionable looking food there, and I didn’t see any coolers.
I ate the potato salad and baked beans. Later on, I noticed nets and flies around the food but didn’t pay it any mind.
When it was time to go on my date, we met up at a sushi restaurant.
We ordered the same thing. The food was good, especially the scallops.
After dinner, my date asked if I wanted to watch a movie. We went to his place and watched my favorite film at the time, Benjamin Button.
While we were watching the movie, my stomach started feeling funny. I thought to myself, “it’s okay. It will pass”.
We weren’t even 15 minutes into the movie when I felt something coming up my throat. I asked where the bathroom was, and before I could also close the door, it was projectile vomit.
I was facing the door and vomited on the handle. I sprayed the entire wall and threw up all over the bathroom.
It was like one of those scary movies where the person vomits, and it was a demon. I threw up some more in the toilet and realized I also didn’t feel good enough to clean it up.
I was on my hands and knees by the toilet, praying. My date heard me and came knocking on the door.
“Are you okay?”
“Um, yea. I will be out in a minute.”
I started panicking. There was vomit all over the walls of his beautiful bathroom.
What’s worst, there were no supplies around to clean it up. All he had was some decorative towels. I found a black rag that might be able to disguise the vomit.
But it didn’t. I couldn’t hide the vomit on the cloth.
It was just horrible. I eventually gave up because my method of cleaning wasn’t working. I came out of the bathroom and told him, “I’m not feeling well. Unfortunately, I messed up your bathroom and want to clean it up. Just point me in the direction of your cleaning supplies.”
He said, “Don’t worry about it. My cleaning lady comes on Monday.”
I insisted that I help clean it up, but he told me it was okay. I said, “Okay. I will be right back.”
I did it again. This time, I started with the door and continued to vomit all over the bathroom for a second time.
I came back out and said: “I think I need to go home.”
At that point, I figured I was either going to die at his house that night or die peacefully alone and not as embarrassed.
He was very nice about it and said, “It’s okay. Just let me know you made it home safely.
His cleaning lady ended up coming on Monday.
We went out on another date about a week later, and he never mentioned what happened.