The Comet of Vomit and Dating Doom

So after my lunch date with Dr. McT a few weeks ago (which was fun, as it always is with him, but I guess he wasn't feeling the sparks) we've gone on as always, me popping in once a week with a dog. Laugh, chat, flirt, hug, and more vague promises to get together again.

As usual, after a long day of rushing about, I had just settled into the car to start the drive to Big City to pick up the dog from Dr. McT's again. And then my tummy started to rumble... I started having hot flashes... Minutes ticked by, and with every passing one I was feeling worse. Searing cramps, nausea, hot flashes, cold flashes. It seemed like an eternity, but I finally made it to the vet's office, and without incident.

Dear god, please oh please oh please do not let me get sick right here, I thought, as I parked and made my way into the waiting room full of people. It was the end of the work day, and crowded with people in suits, harried mothers with screaming kids, barking dogs and screeching birds.

Dr. McT always see me last, so we can have a leisurely chat, and that day was no exception. Finally waved into the exam room, he came in and hugged me as always. We chatted for a few minutes about our common hobbies and interests, but I couldn't focus... my stomach was starting to rebel. I could feel it, the buildup of acid, the burning sensation trying to claw it's way up my throat.



"ADoC, are you okay? You look a little... green," he says, finally noticing I'm not really responding to conversation.

Please don't throw up, please don't throw up, was what I thought. "Hmmm--mmm," was all I could muster, afraid to open my mouth. A french fry found it's way back up into my mouth, and I coughed to cover it as I spit it into my hand, trying to casually tuck it into my pocket without him noticing.

"Okay, I'll go get Dog then, I'll be right back," he says, a look of concern on his face. He leans forward, for another hug, arms wrapped and holding me close. That was all it took, that slight amount of pressure...

Just as he turned away and started to shut the door behind him, it erupted... a long, projectile Comet of Vomit that shot its way across the room and all over the table, wall, and floor. I slumped to my knees, grabbed the trash can and proceeded to empty the day's lunch into it. Heart thumping, head pounding, and sweat dripping off me, I heard his voice in the distance... the clickety click of my dog's toenails coming down the hallway... the chatter of a passing nurse stopping Dr. McT for a moment.

That moment was all I needed. I grabbed paper towels and mopped up the mess the best I could, shoved the trash can and it's evidence in a cupboard, and ran to the sink to gargle with hot water.

He came back in the room with Dog, and talked to me a few more minutes. As he leaned in for one last hug, his cheek touching mine, all I could think was...

Eau de Vomit. Definitely not for dating.