My Worst Date Story: Bulgogi, Barf, & Bae

Strap in, folks. This is going to get wholesome (and gross).

***

It was a dark and stormy night... Just kidding, it was a mind-numbingly normal and boring night. Couldn't have been less interesting if it tried, in fact. I was laying in bed on a Saturday night, and I'm pretty sure I had only gotten up that day to pee and eat. I wasn't depressed or anything, just lazy.

Step one: Download Tinder. Ugh, am I really doing this? Have I finally hit the low that causes me to download fucking Tinder? Yes. Yes, I have. Look, I just got out of a relationship that I really thought was going somewhere. I bought a $100 pair of Warby Parker glasses that I didn't even need for this guy. I got dumped, and I'm sad. I'm a sad sack of beans and I'm eating Frosted Flakes out of the box in my bed. I have swaddled myself in approximately four blankets and I am downloading Tinder because I'm sad.

Step two: Create my account and set my preferences. Swipe, swipe, swipe. You know the drill. It's 1:32 AM and I'm swiping through the zoo of men in my 10-mile radius. Most of them are pretty bad, but I'll admit that I swiped right more than a few times. After several dozen swipes, I decide I've had enough for the night. It's now 2:57 AM and I'm in too deep.

The next morning I wake up with quite a few matches—and some of them were, like, actually reasonably attractive. It was a Christmas miracle! I scrolled through, as one does, for messages from any of them. Of course, there were several "Nudes?" and unsolicited dick pics, but what could I have expected, right? I rummaged through the dumpster that was my inbox and came across a message from a guy I actually knew IRL. His name was Joey, and we had met previously in choir. I was one of the singers and he played trumpet in the band. He was a cutie; I loved his personal style and the way he carried himself. He was into fashion, but specifically 1960s fashion, and I loved that aesthetic.

He messaged me, "Hi, I'm Joey and I'm into Arrested Development and Mad Men."

I messaged back, feeling cheeky. "Hi, Joey. On a scale of cactus to fluffy bear, how would you rate your cuddling skillz?"

Joey mentioned something or other about being a master of "cuddle-fu" and at that moment, I knew he would be worth going on a date with.

The Date: Korean Fusion

Joey and I were seriously vibing off each other on Tinder chat, so we figured we oughta go on a real date and see if there was a real connection to be had. We set a date and we set a time. I was more into the restaurant scene around town so he let me choose the place. I chose a Korean fusion place on the popular ethnic restaurant strip: 4th Street. I had been there a few times before so I knew it was going to be delicious, as always. I conveniently forgot, however, that it had upset my stomach the last couple times I went (HUGE RED FLAG). But, nonetheless, I had really been craving it. So that's where we went.

Joey and I met up at our university's music school and walked over to the restaurant together. No surprise: he was just as cute as I had remembered! He was shy, too, but I was excited and he was wearing a sweater with a bulldog on it, so I nervous talked his ear off.

We got to the restaurant and settled into our date. It was going great! He was nice to look at and he was opening up. I noticed he liked to make a lot of one liner jokes, and I loved that. We talked about a little of everything, but to be honest I don't remember most of it because I was simply enamored. We ordered our meals; he got...something...and I got bulgogi (my remember-fu is seriously malfunctioning).

The meal was great, he was great, yada yada yada. This really isn't the important part of the date, so it's time we move on.

The After Date: Walking Home and Canoodles

At this point, we've finished dinner and we decide to walk each other home. We both lived in the same neighborhood near our university, so we continued our wonderful date with a walk through our scenic campus. We made it back to my house and realized we weren't quite done yet.

Me: Welp, here's my house. Blah blah blah stall stall stall.

Joey (getting it): I know we talked about our favorite shows. Want to come back to my place and watch them?

It didn't take much and I was sold.

We then went back to his place and I introduced him to the greatest show of all time: Bob's Burgers. He subsequently introduced me to the second greatest show: Friends.

We then...canoodled. Look, I'm not going to divulge the details but things were going great, OK? Let's just say we both displayed our cuddle-fu skills.

Ugh, I don't feel good.

You're probably reading this wondering, "When the fuck is this story going to get terrible and interesting?" Well, folks, we have arrived. This is where our first date got, quite literally, nasty.

Read on...

At this point, it was after midnight and I was tired. Just, like, in general. Not from anything in particular. Stop looking at me like that. ANYWAYS. Since it was late, we figured I might as well stay the night at that point. So we settled in his bed and-

*GURGLE*

Oh no.

*GURGLE FLURGLE GURGLE*

Oh god. Oh sweet god of whatever.

I begged all the gods that I knew of to please not let me fart in this guy's bed. I really, really dig him. Please don't ruin this for me, tummy!

Little did I know that I would later be begging for farts. Instead, the gods gave me nausea. My gurgles turned sour. My stomach was fighting back against the bulgogi.

Remember that foreshadowing we had earlier? Here's where it becomes relevant. I should have known that meal was going cause problems.

So here I am in Joey's bed with my stomach gurgling and my face turning green. I didn't know what to do, but I knew this bulgogi was leaving my body sooner rather than later. Fuck. This was NOT how this night was supposed to end. Things are escalating down below and I realize if I don't want to throw up in this guy's bed, I need to do something. So I frantically get up and say something like I need to use the bathroom and also can I steal your robe because you have roommates and I am naked.

He was like, yeah of course. My plan worked. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was mine.

I hobbled over to the door and knocked into the wall and other various furniture approximately 12 times. I was too nervous and panicky to turn on the light so I walked blindly down the hall to his bathroom.

I made it in, closed the door, and all hell broke loose from my stomach. I threw up violently into his toilet and all the memories of the earlier meal came rushing back (literally, ugh). I puked my brains out and I was in an unfamiliar place; I was feeling rough. But I prevailed and I went back to Joey thinking the worst was behind me and I could just sleep it off and no one would ever know.

LOL, I was wrong.

I proceeded to go back and forth to his bathroom at least four more times throughout the night, each time getting progressively worse.

The final time, his roommate was in the bathroom, and, well, I simply couldn't wait. There were no other bathrooms in his small house. I was screwed. So I did the unthinkable. I...vomited in his kitchen sink all over his clean dishes. I am not proud, friends. I am ashamed of this moment to this very day; I'm literally cringing thinking about it as I write this. But I had no choice. Like, there was nothing I could have done. If I hadn't thrown up in the kitchen sink, it would have been on the floor or worse, in his bed. I shudder.

Joey had been oblivious to my situation until the latest development. He finally asked why I kept getting up and I confess that I'd been struggling with food poisoning throughout the night. He goes, OH, that's what was happening. I thought you just had really bad breath. (Yeah, he actually said that, but it was endearing in the moment.)

I realized at this point that I was probably better off at my own house and in my own bed to get the remaining food out of my system. Joey was nothing but gentle and kind once he understood my situation and he offered to walk me home. I ended up being sick like this for two more days, and it was worst case of food poisoning I've ever had to this day. I missed class the rest of the week, and I had to be taken to urgent care and given a shot in my ass and everything.

I was 100% convinced that I had ruined any chance Joey and I may have had at a relationship. I mean, would you want to take a girl with stinky vomit breath on a second date? No, you wouldn't. But I was wrong, and Joey checked in on me periodically while I recovered. He even wanted to take me out again! And again. And again. It worked out quite well, honestly.

***

There you have it, out of #MyWorstDate came the love of my life. Three years later, and now we're married! We still talk about that first night all the time, and it's become our favorite story to tell when people ask us how we met.