(This post was inspired by Ben. His engaging and LOL-worthy writing has made him one of my new favorites. Thanks, Ben!)
I'd made myself at home in his apartment. After all, we were going to be moving in together in just a month. It was one of the few truly sunny days of summer in Pittsburgh. And I was sweating. That ceiling fan just wasn't cutting it for me.
I helped myself to one of Boyfriend's glasses from the kitchen cupboard. I filled it quickly with chilled water from the pitcher in the fridge. I poured it down my gullet so fast--that I almost didn't notice. Something wasn't right. I held the glass up to the light and saw foreign matter swirling in the inch or two of water that remained. I started spitting. Gagging.
"A CREATURE!" I screamed. "I DRANK A CREATURE!"
It resembled a seahorse. I don't even want to think about what it possibly could have been.
Boyfriend emerged from the shower to find me still gagging, still spitting.
"I think I drank a seahorse... or a critter. Or something!"
I showed him the glass.
"Oh, yeah. My sister gave me those glasses for my birthday. I haven't washed them yet."
"You what!? You haven't washed them? But they were in the cupboard!"
"Oh, yeah. I know. I just wanted to get them out of the way."
(Blank stare.) I DRANK A CREATURE!
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8 comments:
...EW!
I would have gagged. A lot.
Ummmm...so was the creature just dirt? Cause I think that's marginally better than drinking something that is, or once was, alive.
Either way, I'm sorry for your distress and thanks for the shout out :)
Lauren, that seems like the common reaction.
Ben, I didn't study it as much as I tried to puke it up, but I think there was a mixture of dirt, dust, and possibly tiny bugs in the glass. The glasses had been sitting out in his kitchen for a good month or two before I drank out of one. Ick.
Oh ew.
what is with dudes? didn't their moms teach them anything? my bf didn't wash towels after he bought them so i was covered in brown fuzz. grrrr
My best guess would be dried sea monkeys. Yum!
My reaction would have followed the lines of: throw up in sink. Cry. Throw up on floor. Cry some more. Drink bleach and have to have stomach pumped. Cry.
Obviously, you must now go drink bleach! (But please don't, because then who will write amusing anecdotes and clever stories for us?)
Addy, my thoughts exactly.
Sarah, I know, right? What goes through their heads? How hard is it to wash a few glasses? Or towels for that matter? Sigh.
Sara, that sounds possible, knowing Boyfriend.
Rae, while it might sound extreme to some, your plan of attack suits me well. Good thing the new apartment will have a dishwasher. I don't want to go drinkin' bleach all willy nilly.
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