Yesterday I went to the mall with my boyfriend. It was the most hilarious day of my life.

We were there for an upwards of 10 seconds when I declare that we need to sit down. I collapse on a bench infront of Boscovs and the Christmas House. Before I know it, my mouth is filled with vomit and it is leaking into my hand. Brian laughed and asked if I was serious, and to remove his doubt I removed my hand and let the vomit escape, declaring that I was indeed serious.

Brian left to inform the staff at the Christmas House that there was barf outside their store. I on the other hand was worrying most about the mess on my hands and arms. I was angry at myself because as I turned my head slightly I realized there was a trashcan not 15 feet away. I also noticed they were selling socks right outside of Boscovs. Well, you'll find that when you vomit on yourself in public (and most importantly, in front of your boyfriend) you have a whole new set of priorities. I'd say getting clean was one of the bigger ones. I took a pair of purple slipper-socks from the rack and removed the cocoa crispies and advil combination from my hands, arms, and face. Realizing what I had done, I calmly walked towards the cashier. "Hi," I said, seeing the humour in the situation more than anything, "I threw up and had to clean myself off, and I took a sock. I'm really sorry, I'll pay for them." I took my index and thumb fingers and took out my 3 20 dollar bills and gave them to her, stating that "I want to touch the money as least as possible." I held up the tag on the socks so that she could ring them up. "I'm really sorry," I explained, "This is awkward. It's my first time throwing up in public and I'm not quite sure how to do it." She smiled and nodded and I walked away with my new socks. (10 dollars, I couldn't believe it. She should have given them to me, I think. Ah, well.)

Brian and I laughed at my situation all the way to the restroom, where I properly began to wash myself off (at least it didn't get on my clothes or hair 0.0 ) Brian was a good sport about it... He didn't run away or anything like that, though we both admitted that the smell was astonishingly terrible. Afterward I bought two packs of tic tacs and tried to fix my vomit breath problem.

My mom had said she would check on me 15 minutes after she dropped me off, since she knew I wasn't feeling well. How surprised she was when I informed her of our shananagins. (Oh, another note, as Brian and I met my mom we found a small girl playing in the place I had puked... Ah well. What she won't know won't hurt her.)

Thanks to pennsylvania roads, I was graced with another series of technicolour yawns on the ride home. (Mom would speak, I would throw up into the grocery bag provided, apologize for interrupting, and the ride would continue).

All in all I think it was a fabulous day. Not an hour after I got back home, we left for the Cracker Barrel and I had a huge meal. Mmm... And I think it made my relationship with Brian a bit stronger, because honestly. If you can still stare into your boyfriend's eyes after he has seen you throw up twice, then I think you got a keeper.

The end.