Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Forgetting a key phrase

Patchy Beard gets up to go to the bathroom.  It's our third date.

"Oh, no prob!"  I proclaim.  "I just have some texts to send to my friend!  I have some things to tell her!"

Mandie, OMG this date is going GREAT!  WOOO I'M DRAAAAUNK 
Hey hun, that's so good to hear.  Be safe though, and don't forget the condom, ok? 
Ahahaha you're so funny!!!!!  U love you!

What I meant was, I love you. 

I had gone through five beers at our first locale and part of an agave margarita at the next.  (I was too naive to think about that little "Liquor before beer, you're in the clear" phrase, and clearly did not follow these instructions.)  By this point in the date, I had no idea what was going on.  I had no idea what we talked about at the dinner table or how long we were there.  He steadied me when it was time to walk out the door.  He grabbed my hand.  I do remember thinking it was cute.  When I moved to get into the car, I said, "Uh oh." And vomited down the runner of the open door. He told me we'd drive me home in my car to sober me up a bit.
"Uh ohhh.  I'm not feeling so good." 
"Should I pull over?" 
"Um, you'd better."
I opened the door just in time to free all the beer, the tequila, tacos, chips, and salsa from my GI tract onto the roadside. Who knows how many times I threw up in my own car on the way to my place.  I just know it wasn't attractive. 

We park in my apartment's garage.  We go inside and he tells me I'd better brush my teeth so he can kiss me.  After he leaves, I go to sleep for a couple hours.  I have a trip to leave for at five in the morning.  I'm still drunk when I wake up at four to pack.  Of course I hadn't started yet. 

I'm sitting waiting for my train.  I scroll through my phone, mostly to analyze Patchy Beard's last textual exchanges.  I see some texts from last night sent to my friend Mandie.  Immediately I text PB to ask if he used my phone last night while I was in the bathroom.  I don't remember sending any of this.  I used words and grammar patterns outside my custom style.  Such as:
I never use that word.  I detest that word, in fact.  I don't drunk text or drunk call.  What scared me was that I had no recollection of typing the messages or using that wording. 

PB texts back.  He didn't touch my phone, and needless to say, that was our last date ever.

What, vomit isn't a turn on?

Disclaimer:  I look at pictures of him now and my feelings about his attractiveness have totally changed.  He looks like he is balding and his Patchy Beard is even patchier.  It's just gross.  This is a year-and-a-half old story.  Now I am older and more mature.  My type has evolved into the baby faced, clean-shaven look.  Literally, looking back:  no loss felt here!

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