An Awful One
And self-deprecating, to boot. Hey, I was young then...
About 20 yrs or so, living off-campus with 4 other guys. No one had any life skills whatsoever, the place was always totally trashed.
I had seen a young woman, encountered her two or three times a week between classes, our eyes always met, neither of us spoke. One day I found the courage to ask her to a Saturday night movie. By Friday I was nerve-wracked, and Saturday was much worse. After fretting all day while trying to clean the house, I scarfed down some pizza I found in the fridge and went off to meet her at the theatre.
We did the Coke and popcorn thing, found seats, the movie started. About half an hour into it, shortly after I'd finally put my arm around her shoulders and she'd (instantly!) settled her head on mine, my stomach started to flip, flop, gurgle, and rumble. Excusing myself, I went off the the washroom and was violently ill. I spent a long time cleaning myself, and trying to use tapwater as mouthwash, before I could return.
Not ten minutes later, I was off to the washroom again, this time exploding violently from the other end of my body in perfect synchronicity with my vomiting. Needless to say, this created some serious problems with my clothing, as well as with my morale.
All I could do was slink away, riding the back of the bus home alone.
Next day I found out from my roommates that the pizza was two weeks old.
And my dream date, the one I'd worked up so much courage for, never looked me in the eye again.
Robert Douglas Hickey |
