Vomit

When I was in the fourth grade, I was accepted into the "Challenge" program at my elementary school. The "Challenge" program was designed to push the more academically inclined students in their schoolwork. I remember on one particularly sunny day our teacher used a word that I had never before heard--vomit. Vomit?! "Is that even English?" I thought to myself. Indeed vomit is an English word and last night on a blind date I, unfortunately, came to understand the word in an all too intimate way.
The other week, one of my sister missionary friends asked me if she could set me up on a date with one of her friends. As I am currently not dating anyone, I happily accepted the invitation. We went out last night and I had a really enjoyable time. She was fun and cute and she was easy to talk to. After going to a Palestinian lecture at the Wilk (don't ask) and dinner at the Creamery on 9th, we went back to Camille's (my sister missionary friend) house. I was just sitting on the couch chatting with my date when my stomach started rumbling in an unusual way. It was one of those things that I knew could not produce a favorable result. We got up to go back to her apartment and I felt light-headed. I was thinking to myself, "What in the world is this? Why I am I feeling like this?" After looking something up on her computer (all the while the rumblings became shorter and more constant), we stood to leave. Everything became really bright in my head and I could feel something coming up my throat. I knew this couldn't be good. Instead of following her out the door, I walked straight into her bathroom as I could feel "vomit" coming. As a tender mercy, no one was in the bathroom and I was able to keep the vomit in my mouth without making a sound as I quickly walked into her bathroom and closed the door. I immediately turned the faucet on (to muffle any awkward sound) and I delicately spit out some of the spicy fries with cheese sauce that I had enjoyed just an hour earlier. After disposing of the contents, I looked at myself in the mirror and thought to myself, "I am in the bathroom of my blind date's apartment. I just vomited. What am I going to say and how am I going to get out of this?" I did the only thing I could think of doing. I walked out of the bathroom with a big smile, told her roommate it was nice to meet her, and told my date that I wasn't feeling well after dinner and I rushed into her bathroom as a precaution. True statement--just without some of the more descriptive elements. Charming...I know. Shortly thereafter, we ended the date with a hug and I went home. Oh how I wish the story ended there! Right when I walked into my apartment, the rest of my french fries and I think some of my hamburger exited my body in a rather violent manner. Five times last night that very same exit was made by everything in my stomach and I had no other choice but to sip Sprite and watch "Titanic" on TBS until 4:30 in the morning.
As I've reflected on my experiences last night, I started thinking about what might have been. What if I had not been able to make it to her bathroom in time or there was someone already in her bathroom? Throwing up in your date's apartment on a first date?! The Lord's mercy has no bounds.