“So, I know we’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks - and I really like you - but on a scale of one to ten, ten being you never want to see me again: How do you feel about me vomiting right now”
That pretty much sets the tone of my quiet Friday night at home last weekend.
Try as we do to control every little aspect of our lives, there is always going to be vomit. It’s just something you can’t seem to get around, no matter how many cherry flavoured Gravol tablets we try to chew before the saliva starts to fill our mouths and we know it’s time.
And the truth is - the real part of life is often the best part, and sometimes the funniest.
While I don’t recommend throwing up on a date, it’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and definitely not the worst place I’ve ever thrown up in my 29 years.
The fog of sexy mystique may disappear for the evening - but if there is a next time, chances are your mystique is stronger than you think it is.
