I Sort Of Blew Up My Girlfriend Last Night. (212 hits)
Category: Romanceno reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by phuzzygish (View user info) at 2007-10-16 06:32:50 EDT
And it was her birthday, so I feel kinda bad about it...
You find out all sorts of things when you get a girlfriend. What their favourite type of Cinnabon is, what noises their bum makes when they're fast asleep, and that they share birthdays with some of their other friends.
So for Sam's birthday, she and her mate decided to have a joint dinnery-drinks vibe at Casa de Galinha, a lovely little Portuguese spot on Rivonia Road. The usual Porto-Mozambican fare - prawns, grilled chicken, catembas, sangria, armpit sweat - you know the type.
Yummy.
Now I know my darling beloved is pretty pernickety when it comes to food, so I didn't think much of it when she ordered a lovely little fillé and potatoes au gratin for her evening meal. I'm just a greedy little punk, so I had a shitload of prawns. Shrimp. Whatever. They had lots of legs, garlic, lemon butter and tasted like fresh oceany goodness.
Dinner gets munched, drinks get drinked, guests get fershnickered, and a banging great time is had by all.
Then we went home.
Being the good boyfriend that I pretend I am, home-time was obviously followed by a nice spot of Birthday Kafoofling, the type where the girl gets to lie there like a clubbed seal and the boy puts in all the work for a change. At least that was the plan.
It started off okay, I think I had kissed, caressed, tickled and lubed all the right parts, when Sam's breathing started to get a little erratic. Normally this is a good thing (At least I read so in Cosmo) but her shortness of breath was accompanied by some gurgling noises and one or two convulsions.
'I'm good, but I'm not that good.' I say to myself.
'I... can't... fucking... breath...' gurgles she.
So I nip the bedside table on, have a look at my new found love, and promptly shit my pants.
Sam has turned a really deep shade of puce, her lips have swollen up bigger than a Oomba-Woomba tribal stereotype, her eyes are bulging out of her head like great big bulgy eyes, and breathing was something that happened to other people.
A bit like Hitch, I suppose, but more swelling, hysteria and white girl.
After a night at Sunninghill Emergency, I now know a couple of new things about my girlfriend:
- She's on Discovery Medical aid, happily accepted by hospitals nationwide.
- Her car might need a tune up, some of the late-night corners were a little tricksey.
- When she says she doesn't want the seafood, it's not her being fussy. It's her not wanting to die.
- If I ever eat seafood around her again, she would greatly appreciate me showering, exfoliating and gargling with turpentine before I even <b>think<b> about touching her again.
Chicks.
They're tricky.
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