Love Labor's Lost

volumes of mis-adventures

I wanted simple. He simply got a bloody nose

Jo* asked me out for our third date earlier this week for Saturday night. With few details in play, I was meeting him outside his apartment at 8pm. Dinner and a concert, what could be better?

We went to a lovely Thai restaurant right off the Western Brown line. I didn’t eat much, but drank my fair share of a bottle of wine and we talked smoothly for hours. Before I knew it, it was 10:30 and time to go to the concert. We walked over to the Old Town School of Folk Music. In a new building, with far too many ushers guiding us through the hall, as if we were a plane taking off a runway, two amazing performances took place, making my heart skip a little beat. The haunting voice of Sean Hayes, and the amazing talent of Birds of Chicago, made the night seem enchanted. As we sat side by side, tapping our feet to the music and holding hands, I realized this might be the cutest date I’d ever been on; maybe far too cute.  We stole a few kisses in between sets and then danced together for the last song. We grabbed a sticker for my keepsake and then headed out and hailed a cab. On the ride back to his apartment with my head laid on his shoulder and his arm around me, I was falling into a deep trance of adoration.

Jo: I know it’s late, but would you like to come up for a bit?

Me: sure.

As we sat on the couch talking turned into kisses amidst words until the words faded into the candlelit living room. I like him, I thought. This is good…

A tepid droplet grazed my cheek, and for a second I thought it was a tear, until my vision focused and Jo’s face was crimson, bright oxygenated blood flooded, like a waterfall, from his nose and the tepid droplet that interrupted our PG-13 makeout session was his blood on my cheek.

Jo: O my gosh, O my GOSH!

Me: Are you ok?

He ran to the bathroom and grabbed some toilet paper, a moist towelette, and some paper towels. It was 2:30 in the morning, and I was tipsy and tired from the wine; dazed and certainly confused. I couldn’t discern if I was grossed out or just felt far too sorry for him.

As we sat in the aftermath of his bloody nose, I started to laugh. First a small polite giggle and soon a roar of rapturous proportions.

me: You just bled; from your nose; onto my face. That IS WEIRD! The Weirdest actually.

*That awkward moment after you realize he just bled on your face*

After far too many google searches, I found that he was most likely so hot for me, his blood pressure shot up and he popped a blood vessel in his nose. Go me?

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