For an explanation of my NaBloPoMo theme, click here.
One bright, beautiful Saturday, when Matt and I had not been dating all that long, we decided to make an inpromptu day trip to New Hampshire. Being the good New Englanders that we are, we cannot make even a 5 minute trip, let alone a 2 hour plus trip, without a stop at Dunkin Donuts first.
Normally in the summer I would get an iced coffee, with milk and sugar please! But on this ill-fated day, I decided to get a coffee coolata. For anyone who is not a regular patron at good ol’ DD (gasp – the horror!) a coolata is a blended coffee drink, kind of the consistency of a milkshake (like a frapaccino at Starbucks). Do not ask me why I got this beverage. I think this was maybe the second coffee coolata I had ever had in my life, and it was most certainly the last.
As Matt and I embarked on our road trip, I started to feel… funny. Unfortunately this strange feeling was familiar to me, because I am blessed with the world’s weakest stomach. Anything my stomach does not like, including food, medicine, and coolatas, is immediately rejected.
As the waves of nausea rolled over me, I didn’t know what to do. Matt and I were a new enough couple that I wasn’t feeling comfortable saying ‘please pull over while I expel the contents of my stomach onto the side of the road.’* So I tried to tough it out.
And then we hit traffic. And the car kept starting, and stopping, and the sun was beating down on us, and at that point I was getting desperate. That coolata was coming UP, and it was not waiting for a more opportune moment.
“Look,” I said to Matt, “you had better get off at that exit. You had better get off at that exit RIGHT NOW.”
“But I’m in the left lane, and we’re almost past it, and we’re at a dead stop. What’s wrong?”
“See that Wendy’s at the top of that exit? I need to be there RIGHT. NOW.”
To his credit, Matt maneuvered his way through the traffic and off the exit without doing anything too illegal. And to my credit, I almost made it to the Wendy’s bathroom before losing my lunch. (Or breakfast, as the case may be.) And luckily there weren’t that many people in the Wendy’s at the time. I’m pretty sure all of them lost their appetites, though.
*For the record, I would have no problem doing this now – and I totally HAVE on more than one occasion. What made this moment so awful (and embarrassing) for me was that Matt and I were still in that stage where you are in no way admitting that you even HAVE bodily functions, let alone proclaiming a pressing need to spew. Luckily, after this, I knew he was a keeper.