A Mommy Blog About Raising Men, Not Boys.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Bold Faced Lie #5 - Barfing on the BMOC of Wabash College

I wish this one were false.

But it's TRUE.

My friend had this boyfriend. The sad thing is, I can't remember HER name....ummm, Cara? I don't know. Anyway, she was in the band/color guard or something - that is how I knew her(low brass section here, bitches). Those band geeks out there reading this are saying "Wait why is a low brass girl hanging out with a color guard girl....." LET IT GO people. Regardless. Friend, acquaintance - whatever. Person I knew had this boyfriend. His name was Chris. Last name withheld to protect the innocent. She brought him around a few times - positively glowing as she showed him off. He was a cutie too. His family had bucks, he was going to Wabash - a shmancy boys private college for those of you not from Hoosier land, and well - he was pretty cool. At some point they got "pinned" etc etc etc. He'd be around from time to time and I always thought he was a pretty cool guy.

So his family moved to Switzerland one year because of his dad's job (another person I know whose parent had a swanky job at Eli Lilly). So she wrote to him, and pined for him, and talked about him blah blah blah blah. And I pretty much forgot about him. Because, I was in high school - and I was self centered like that. (Ummm still am).

I went to Europe in high school, the obligatory trip to Germany that my husband insists all middle class girls from Indiana take when they are in high school (sort of true......strange but true). I flew Iceland Air on a plane with PROPELLERS. So anyway our layover was in Reykjavik. Beautiful Reykjavik. I walked around the gift shop that looked out over the frozen tundra or permafrost or whatever the hell they have there......and after having purchased a beautiful scarf and mittens (wool - they produce WOOL in Iceland) I see this guy WAVING AT ME. Excitedly. Jumping up and down and WAVING AT ME.

In Reykjavik, Iceland.

I take a better look. I know him. It's Chris. The fancy boyfriend of friend/acquaintance/maybe in band/maybe in color guard whose name I now forget. And he looks delighted to see me. So we go off to the airport bar to have a few. When our connecting plane boards, which we are BOTH on, he finagles me a seat next to him up in first class. Apparently the Iceland to Luxembourg flight is NOT so full. So I sit with him - and we chat chat chat and then we have more beers and (MOM AND DAD AVERT YOUR EYES NOW) we make out for most of the flight. Addresses are exchanged. Promises to write are made.

And in fact, we do write. My F/A/MIBMICG/WNINF starts complaining at school about how his letters are less frequent. She wonders if he met someone in Europe. I say NOTHING because I sort of feel bad. But - they're still pinned and he's certainly not writing I LOVE YOUS to me, just mundane friendly stuff. So I think nothing of it.

A year goes by. I hear little from him. I get a new boyfriend. I start volunteering at the Children's Museum in Indianpolis. And now, this story gets to it's conclusion. I go to work at the Children's Museum with my THEN boyfriend who I was bored with and ready to be rid of. We have an annoying lunch on our break, in the little restaurant there (which has since changed like 10 times so no fear the current restaurant is safe). Anway, I have a turkey sandwich. Not too long after that, when I return to work. I start to feel really really bad. Got the sweats...upset tummy. Boyfriend takes me home.

I start throwing up. But I then feel better. I think, hmm bad turkey sandwich.

The Phone Rings. It's Chris. He's home. He wants to see me ASAP, he broke up with
my F/A/MIBMICG/WNINF. We make plans for later that night to see BACK TO THE FUTURE.

I feel weak and icky but pull it together - shower, break out my best flipped collar polo or something equally 1986 - leg warmers, hair teased up to the sky. You know what I'm talking about. I looked GOOD. At the movies, it's PACKED. Back to Future was wildly popular. For some unknown reason, he has brought friends, two other guys that I knew. He whispers that they tagged along and he is sorry. I excuse myself twice during the movie - and go puke in the bathroom. Desperate for the date to go well, I buy mints and do a huge freshen up in the bathroom each time. I keep thinking I'll be okay - just pull it together, get the movie over go home and go out again another time.

As the movie ends, I'm shaking, sweating, my vision is a little blurry and I'm really starting to realize something terrible is wrong. And I need to poop. Bad. Like, emergency poop. The incredible exploding ass sort of poop. The credits roll. The entire move theater stands up. Gridlock. I can't move. The room starts to sway.

I look to my left. And vomit all over the coolest guy I had ever gone out with.

I make it to the bathroom, vomit a lot more. Crap my brains out. Clean myself up.

My date's friends are nearly in tears when I come out of the bathroom. In tears because they are laughing. One of them says "So I don't think he'll get a good night kiss" before he realizes I am standing there. I am mortified. They take me home.

About an hour later, my dad drives me to the ER because my temperature skyrocketed and I couldn't stop vomitting. I had food poisoning.

The coolest guy I ever went out with? Never even called to see if I was okay. Not so cool after all I guess.


Frank said...

Ask her about the three other guys that she's puked on during dates.