Being Discrete

Cross my heart this happened to someone. This guy lives in Westchester, NY and goes to school at Ithaca College. For two years, he has wanted to ask a certain girl (who is also from Westchester and also goes to Ithaca) out on a date, but has never had the courage.

Finally, one day over the summer, he sees her at home and musters up the courage to ask her out. She accepts, and they make dinner plans for Saturday night.

Friday night, this guy goes out with all of his buddies, and drinks like Prohibition is coming back.

Saturday, he is in such bad shape that he can't make it through twenty minutes without either throwing up or using the bathroom. After several hours of this, he is able to stop throwing up, but he is still running to the toilet every 20 minutes. He doesn't want to cancel the date, because he's afraid he won't ever talk to her again.

So they meet in Westchester, and take the train to New York City (about a 30 minute ride). They get to the restaurant, and he excuses himself during the appetizers to use the bathroom. They enjoy the rest of the appetizers without interruption, but he has to go back again during the entrees.

They decide to get dessert. During dessert, our hero feels another rumbling, but doesn't want to look like a complete bathroom freak, so he holds it. After a few minutes, the rumbling subsides, but he still has a bit of gas stored up.

He decides to let this little bit of gas fly right there at the table (discreetly, of course). Unfortunately, this little bit of gas came with another little surprise. "Oh crap," he thinks (and feels). Instead of running to the bathroom right away, our hero immediately leans on the arms of his chair to keep from sitting on this surprise. He maintains this yoga position for the rest of dessert, trying to figure out what to do before his tan pants (a) start to smell, or (b) start to show stains on the outside. He quickly pays for dinner and they leave the restaurant. Oh, by the way, he is walking like a cowboy.

On the way to the train station, they pass the Gap.

Do you mind if I run in and buy a sweater that I was looking at last week?" he asks.

"No problem, I'd like to look around too," she replies. They go into the Gap. Fortunately, at the Gap, men's fashions are on the right, women's fashions are on the left. They split up.

Our hero grabs the first sweater within reach, and hurries back to the khakis. After selecting a pair that most closely resemble his current outfit, he brings both items to the register. His eyes are on his date (still on the other side of the store) to make sure that she doesn't see him buying the pants. He doesn't even want the sweater, so he says through clenched teeth (just in case his date can read lips from 40 feet away) "Just the pants."

"What?" asks the Gap girl.

"Just the pants!" (Eyes still trained on his date.)

Gap girl: "Oh, OK."

He pays for the pants and walks over to his date; then they leave the store. They board the train just before it leaves the station and find two seats in the middle of the car. Without sitting down, our hero excuses himself and walks to the bathroom in the back of the car. He gets to the bathroom as the train departs, and quickly rips off his pants and boxer shorts. He rolls them into a ball and throws them out the window. After cleaning himself off, he opens the Gap bag and pulls out...just the sweater.