I threw up blood in a movie theatre then ended up sleeping on the roof of my house after leaving the ER, and that was the end of the worst date I've ever been on. Now let me tell you about the first time I saw Jane. She's explaining to her beer pong partner how vinyl records make a crackle noise before the music starts to play, thus the name of her podcast "crackle". First hint that trying to date her would be a mistake: she podcasts about vinyl. However Jane has these gorgeous blue eyes, and thrift store attire that reminds me of Juno; these are the only two traits I look for in a girlfriend.
I'm outside smoking a cigarette alone when I see Jane leaving the party. She's arm in arm with a guy who looks like he never stops wearing a beanie. Jane pushes him away, runs up to me, and mumbles, "We should hang out". After exchanging numbers she left with that guy, which is odd. I'm sure they're related or best friends or probably not going to make out in a cab later.
The next day I call Jane while shopping in an Urban Outfitters because I'm the reason the world hates young white people. She answered, and in between hyperventilating I ask her if she wants to see a movie. I receive a monotone, "yeah sure" -- not the most excited response, but with foolish optimism I figure it could only go uphill from there. I'm proved wrong.
By the time I get to her apartment, which is decked out with vintage Janis Joplin posters, and Christmas lights, I'm very noticeably nervous. On a scale of "J-walking" to "The Nuremburg Trials" I'm at the latter. To release my tension I compliment her apartment a lot. I must have complimented her oven mitt that was shaped like a shark eight times. She was slowly getting sick of me, and I was slowly realizing it; all in all great start to a first date.
Before the movie starts my stomach begins to have sharp shooting pains. I ignore it and I continue talking , "So you ever been to Europe?", "I already told you". Fuck it, I'm going to the bathroom, this girl hates me. I run into the men's room and felt like I was going to puke; I then proceed to throw up blood. I clean myself off as best as I can and return to the movie thinking, "Man oh man do I hope this girl doesn't recognize that I just threw up blood". I sit down and she says, "I'm bored, you want go to a party? Do you know of any parties?" I tell her there was a party at my house and we left the theatre.
We got to my apartment, which had yet again been filled with about a hundred people of which I knew maybe four. As the party went on Jane started talking to more and more people including my roommate Lennis. He was evidently hitting on her and knew I was on a date but he rarely cared about things such as: people, standards of living, or anything not named Lennis. In all this commotion my stomach pains come back.
I dart for the bathroom where I throw up blood again; this time I felt like I was going to pass out. I start shivering with blood around my mouth; who wouldn't want to date this? One of the four people I know, Joanna, came up to me and asked, "Are you okay?". YEAH I'M GREAT JOANNA, JUST BLEEDING FROM THE MOUTH WITH THE SHAKES! I didn't say that but I was in that kind of mood. I told her about the night, mostly my blood vomit and how it happened again. She tells me to take a cab to the E.R. so I do. I leave without telling Jane because I was mad and inexplicably bleeding.
I get to the hospital and wait in a doctor's office until 4:15 a.m. when I get a text from Jane, "where are you?" I don't answer. What am I going to say? "Threw up blood, in ER :( " No, I wasn't going to say that. I don't answer her and the doctor came in. He said he thought I had a stomach ulcer and wanted to make sure there was no internal bleeding. The only way to check for that is with a prostate exam. Yup, one of those. So that happened, and it was weird and awful. Most people don't need one till their about 50, but why not one earlier? Why the fuck not?
The doctor informed me that I had a small stomach ulcer but no internal bleeding. I needed to take medication and not drink or smoke for a week while staying out of stressful environments, as they will aggravate the ulcer. Stressful environments such as: horrible dates, parties with horrible dates, getting molested by a doctor at 5 a.m., stuff like that.
I take a cab home at 5:30 a.m. to find my apartment wall to wall with passed out bodies. I go into my room to find someone sleeping on my bed and my floor. It felt like "Goldie Locks and Three Bears", but with more blood and less porridge. Jane invited her roommate to the party who I find sleeping on my floor next to some guy who looked like a roadie for Phish. I have a feeling Jane was still here in the sea of passed out people, she wouldn't leave without her roommate. Last I left Jane she was talking to Lennis. With nowhere to sleep I head to the roof of my apartment with a sleeping bag. My roommate Nick woke up to my stumbling around; he opened his door and without thinking I asked him, "Did Lennis and Jane..." neither of us said a thing. I retreated to the roof.
I woke up at 8 a.m. to a homeless guy yelling at me not to tell anyone about this "spot", I told him I lived downstairs, he said "me too" and left. I went back to sleep and woke up again later to find my wallet missing. I walk downstairs at 11 a.m., by this time everyone was gone, the floor was no longer covered with people and my bed was unoccupied so I collapsed onto it. I finished one of the worst, most strenuous nights of my life. My body was falling apart and my mind had learned to stop trusting people. Nothing had gone right that night, and I walked away thinking about one thing: Why exactly did that doctor need to give me a prostate exam?
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