So this happened over the weekend and I was really considering posting it, but to hell with it. Maybe sharing this with y’all can help with me coping.
So I matched with this amazing girl on Bumble – PhD student, speaks three languages. Way too good for me, but somehow she agreed to dinner at this nice Thai place I’d been wanting to try.
Everything’s going perfectly. We’re laughing, connecting, great chemistry honestly. I’m feeling extra confident because I had a few shots (pre-first date ritual of mine) of this Chinese whiskey my buddy got me as a birthday gift, before leaving my apartment to “calm my nerves”. It was the only alcohol I had in my apartment (I don’t usually drink whisky), but beggars can’t be choosers.
The waiter introduced their menu and mentions their “authentic spice challenge” – a traditional dish that’s supposedly “restaurant’s hottest.” Now, I just got back from Phuket last month where I was crushing street food like a champ. The 4 swigs were hitting at this point, so my alcohol-fueled brain thinks this is the perfect opportunity to casually mention my travels and spice tolerance.
“I’ll take the challenge level,” I announce confidently, adding “I just got back from Thailand, so I think I can handle it.” She orders something sensible. The waiter probably noticed that I was a little buzzed and actually asks if I’m sure with a smirk. I double down.
The dish arrives looking innocent enough. First bite – manageable. Second bite – getting warm. Third bite – my mouth is officially on fire, but I’m committed to the bit. I’m nodding enthusiastically while sweat starts pouring down my face like I’m in a sauna.
Then it happens.. the combination of spice and pre-date whiskey hits my stomach like a chemical weapon. I excuse myself to the bathroom, thinking I just need a moment to collect myself. Boy was I fucking wrong.
What followed was 38 minutes of the most violent, explosive food poisoning of my life (I was certain it was 38 minutes because I kept looking at my phone while liquids were coming out of both of my orifices, and didn’t want to keep her waiting). I felt like fucking death. My anus felt like someone grinding sandpaper on the poor thing. The bathroom acoustics in this Thai joint were also apparently conveniently designed to amplify every horrific sound. I’m talking full surround sound digestive devastation while she’s sitting 20 feet away.
I finally come out, looking like I’ve been through war, to find she’s already paid the check and is calling an Uber. She hands me a to-go container with my barely touched murder-dish and pats my shoulder sympathetically.
“Maybe next time order mild,” which crushed any shred of self-assurance I had..
She unmatched me yesterday.
TL;DR: Tried to impress cultured Bumble date with spice tolerance, spent 38 minutes destroying restaurant bathroom while she listened