This is a story about a young girl, a young boy, love, a pack of Mentos, and projectile vomit:
So there I was, a young 18.5 year old straight outta high school and living on campus for university. For the first time, I had my freedom. For the first time, I felt like an adult. For the first time, I was gonna get some ass. My victim (love interest) was a guy I’d met at a bar downtown. We clicked instantly and exchanged numbers.
We started hanging out and bonded over our mutual love of trying new foods. We were both virgins, so naturally the sexual tension was about as thick and as tight as a pair of Kim Kardashian’s Spanx. We decided to set a date for our sexual escapades. It would be something straight out of any cheesy romance novel: dinner, conversation, and then baby makin’ (using protection of course! If you’re gonna make love, make sure you wear a glove).
So we went to an Indian restaurant and I had some sort of shellfish dish. What I also had (that I didn’t know at the time) was salmonella poisoning. After consuming the shellfish, I felt fine. Until 30 minutes into the date. I felt like there was a Michael Bay movie happening in my colon but I soldiered on. I put up a smile and eventually went back to his apartment for the much awaited sexy time.
We’re getting hot and heavy (it was everything I ever dreamed about and more), when I made my way over to the bed. I could feel something coming up and reached for the pack of Mentos on his dresser. I popped one in my mouth and continued. I climbed on top of him and started French kissing him.
That’s when it happened.
When I swallowed the Mentos, it triggered my gag reflex and all three dishes (samosas included) erupted out of my mouth and into his. I emptied the entire contents of my stomach into his mouth, on his head, sheets, and penis.
When it was over. The two of us stay there looking at each other. None of us said a word. Finally he said, “I don’t remember you having the tandoori chicken.” We both laughed and I helped clean him up.
The moral of the story is: sex isn’t always a passionate, dramatic love affair (complete with lights, awesome camera angles, and a makeup artist on standby) that the media makes it out to be. Sex is messy, dirty, funny, and spontaneous and nothing to be ashamed about.