As we pulled away from the bar I knew this wasn’t going to be good. I managed to give him my address and thankfully he was able to put it in the GPS because I would have not been able to explain the directions to my house. After just a few minutes in the car I asked him to please pull over as I could feel the juices churning in my stomach and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. He pulled the car to the side of the road and I walked as far as I could behind a tree so that he wouldn’t see me dry heaving my guts out all over someone’s lawn. I wiped my face, tried to fix my hair and stand myself in an upright position as I approached the car and profusely apologized for this ridiculous endeavor. He gave me another breath mint. I took a tiny bite, as I hate breath mints, but didn’t want to seem rude and put the rest of it in my pocket. He was talking and continuing to ask me if I was ok when about another mile or so later I asked him again to pull over. I felt like an ass, but it was pull over or spew chunks all over his car. Again he pulled to the side of the road and I just about got out of sight before my body released without warning. I was there a little longer than the first time and I could see him nearby outside his car smoking a cigarette. What a nightmare. He had to of thought I was a disaster and I didn’t blame him. Not exactly how I had planned for the night to go. I got back into the car with another breath mint handed to me and a “You ok?” I again, took a tiny bite of the breath mint and put the rest in my pocket. I realized that the breath mint was making me nauseous and with every crunch down I was holding back the pulling feeling in the back of my throat. We began to drive again and at this point I had no idea what time it was or how long we’d been driving, but I knew it was A) a long time and 2) we were not very far from the bar yet. I managed to sit in the car for a few minutes as he slowly went around turns, being careful as to not jostle me too much. He was kind and gentle and seemed concerned and yet I am sure he was kicking himself for ever agreeing to meet me. I tried as best I could to keep my eyes open and my head up, but I was failing miserably at both. Again, for the third time I asked him to pull over. He pulled the car to the side of the road and I remember walking a long time to find a tree. I could tell he was nervous about what I was doing because out of the corner of my eye I could see his car pull around the corner and slowly follow behind me. Again my body heaved as the remaining Malbec shot up out of my mouth and nose. I was mess. A complete and utter mess. Both physically and emotionally and now even my cute sexy yet casual outfit was soiled along with whatever reputation I thought I had. I arrived back at the car and this time he was holding the door open and said “I thought for a second you were going to walk home” and with that he chuckled a jolly laugh and I was able to compose myself for the rest of the ride home. We got to my driveway and with a look of horror I asked “You don’t want to come in do you?” He smiled sheepishly but I could tell it was more like disgust and said “No, you should get in bed” We sat there for a moment and I asked how long it took us to get to my house. He said “about an hour and fifteen minutes” A twenty-minute drive took us one hour and fifteen minutes because I was a lush. I thanked him for bringing me home, for putting up with the debacle that is me and apologized I don’t know how many times. I got inside my house and heard him screech off and I didn’t blame him. Well I certainly screwed THAT one up. And with that I took off my clothes and onto the floor fell about forty-two tiny pieces of broken breath mints, I giggled to myself then must have passed out.
Oh my God… I’m glad you’re alive. And I’m glad he wasn’t a rapist/murderer. And I’m glad this didn’t end up on Dateline. Did you ever hear from him again?
Like Liked by 1 person
Guess you’ll have to wait and see 😉
Like Like
you’re killing me… 😉
Like Liked by 1 person