*blue balls not included.
Holidays are a time where many of you single folks and newly coupleds will meet your SigOt’s family. I will be doing the same… omg, right?
In the spirit of the holidays, I wanted to share some personal humiliation from my dating history while I was with The Fiancee.
TF and I dated for about four years (I lost track) the first time we dated (there was that second time we dated where the engagement actually occurred a year or so after the first dating sequence… got that?). One time my ex was extremely sick – so much, that I had to call for help. During that inquisitive phone conversation with his brother (a doctor), I fell deathly ill as well. I then called a friend who had to rush us both to the brother’s office at one of the Cleveland Clinic emergency campuses. We both contracted norovirus. For those that are (luckily) unfamiliar with norovirus, envision for a moment extreme amounts of things coming out both ends. Anyways, Brother Doctor needed to give me a suppository. Yup, in my butt. With his finger. (My ex was actually sick enough that he needed an IV). Gross memory deleted.
Now tell me how many of your future inlaws family dinner conversations started with “Brother had his finger in her butt.” Doesn’t it sound like a ridicule from grade school or something? I don’t feel embarrassed that often, but this was hilariously uncomfortable for the duration of our courtship. Not unlike the suppository.
Have any embarrassing “meet the parents” stories?
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This blog is about pursuit: a transplanted Clevelander (me) in a new city (that's you, Pittsburgh!), pursuing the role of a self-employed copywriter, becoming a roller derby badass and somehow merging all my to-do items into one ever-growing Bucket List.
And of MY boyfriend. His blue balls started this mess.
