To All The Boys I've Puked On Before
by Kate Kohn
Hi, hey, what’s up. You might remember me from an incredibly vulnerable post last year where I got emotional about, uh, the weird value society places on the concept of virginity and how it’s not great for your self-esteem. In fact, it’s bad for your self-esteem. However, things have changed. I’m a certified sex-haver now. I’ll spare you all the details. (Unless you happen to ever come to a party I throw, then you will beg for mercy from hearing the details.)
With that aside aside, I would like to apologize to a surprisingly sizable subset of people present in my dating and sex life — I would like to apologize to all of the men I’ve puked on.
There are four of you out there. You know who you are. Hopefully you’re not reading this. I don’t know what you did in a past life to deserve me spilling the contents of my stomach all over you, but it must have been terrible. Probably genocide, or line-skipping. Either/or.
I should like the chance to correct the record publicly — only one of these was because I was drunk. Two were because I had accidentally eaten dairy. One was… well… let’s just say it wasn’t my fault. (Here’s where I aggressively wink until you understand.) Anyway, none of you are special. I think I’ve made it a point to talk to you as little as possible since vomiting (usually on your, ahem, crotch-area). Except the last guy. You seemed to be into the whole gagging thing, and who am I to deny a hot Colombian dude such a simple joy.
Maybe I don’t want to apologize — the apology wouldn’t be for you anyway. Human bodies are weird, I’m sorry that happened to you (and me), but I’m sure you’re over it. If anything, you now have a fun story to tell your future girlfriend, like “Yeah, at least you’re not that chick that threw up on me. You’re considerably less attractive, nowhere near as funny, and you are comparatively boring, but at least you don’t blow chunks on dude’s dicks.” And I’d think, slow down bud! Your girlfriend is hot and interesting, you should apologize to her for saying that, but it’s definitely (probably) true she did not throw up on you.
I’ve learned something in my accidental devotion to the art of vomiting on unsuspecting lovers. I’ve learned that everyone has a handful of these goofy stories, of false starts and disastrous endings. That anyone you talk to has an embarrassing sex fart or subway station faceplant they re-live only in their darkest shower cries. Your friends have these same stories, and your date does too. The best thing to do with them is tell them at a party. Put them on an internet article. They might be a little raunchy for the office happy hour, but they certainly aren’t for brunch with your besties.