All the Pain, But None of the Gain

Only a very unique person can get hangover without being drunk. Which means I should get a gold star for specialness. My body decided I had a little too much fun Saturday night, which didn't seem to be the case at the time. I went to Polly's BBQ, where a fair amount of beer was consumed, but I was pacing myself, so I was still feeling fine when Mike gave me a ride home (I had walked). Then it was off to get a drink with Paul, who had been working late saving lives. I think my crucial mistake was at this point, when I switched over to a martini. Evidently those don't mix too well with beer. But I wasn't having any problems when I finally called it a night, so I told Paul I'd love to do brunch with him on Sunday.

Unfortunately, when I woke up Sunday morning, it was clear I was going nowhere. I tried to call Paul to let him know, but I was just getting his voice mail. And so it came to pass that when he showed up to collect me, I was otherwise occupied throwing up in the bathroom. Not really the impression I wanted to present after our 2nd date. However, my condition sent him on a huge guilt trip for giving me the alcohol in the first place, and he went into full-on doctor mode. He was very handy to have around, as he could give me meds to make me feel better, even if they did completely knock me out. But it was a little weird to have him holding my hand as a cover for checking my pulse. Not to mention my extreme mortification at having him see me like that. But he was quite wonderful about it, and fixed me up, and even wants to see me again, so all was not lost. Even though we never did get brunch together.