(no subject)
So, I got tickets for Dave Matthews Band. Was happy. Was happy I was going with a fellow fan and not alone or with someone who had no idea what the music was about.
It was supposed to this awesome trip, bus to Copenhagen, blowing basically all my money to make it count, bought expensive foods for the bus, we were gonna have sushi at this place I found, then head over to the concert.
At the concert, M started complaining of a stomach ache. I'll be right back, he said. He didn't come back, missed the entire concert, I had to watch it alone, surrounded by all these happy gangs of friends. It was a great show, Tim Reynolds was there, they played Cornbread and Crash Into Me and You And Me and Sledgehammer.
Halfway through, I'm thinking "Man, I bet Mikey's at the hospital". And I was right. Didn't see the end of the show because I went looking for him instead. Finally learned he'd been taken to a hospital nearby, so yay, I was right.
I remember more about trying to find the hospital than about the concert. So sucky.
M was in horrible pain, so for a while, I was just pitying him for being in pain and on top of that missing the entire concert.
Slowly it has evolved into annoyance, though.
Like, he's an eater. He EATS. He ate so much sushi that his sensitive stomach cramped up. He's been telling everyone it was food poisoning, why I don't know. Embarrassment? I don't know. I'm annoyed at him for lying about that and not taking responsibility for his own condition, when he does in fact have a sensitive stomach.
On top of that, he keeps eating stuff and puking it back up like a frigging bulimic for the next twelve hours. Okay, like, when your stomach is upset, after a flu or whatever? You LEAVE it BE. I kept taking things out of his hands.
"What are you doing? Don't drink the tap water! The doctor said not to drink tap water!"
"But I'm thirsty!"
I swear, it was like dealing with a two year old.
He puked in the taxi home, he puked throughout the night we spent at my mom's place. Why? Because of the yoghurt, coca cola, blueberry soup and boiled water. Which he GULPED down. Like, if he stopped puking at eleven, by six in the morning, he had drank at least two litres of different fluids. And puked it back up. Self preservation, can he has it?
In the morning, I went to fetch my bottle of coke, which I had put in the fridge. I was thirsty from dancing up a sweat at the concert, mmm, ice cold coke. Gone.
Cos M went up raiding the fridge in the middle of the night, drank my cold, fizzy soda, and then puked it back up.
I just. I feel so robbed of my Dave Matthews experience. Drummer threw out a bunch of drum sticks at the end. I had a great spot in front. I bet I would have caught one if I'd still been there.
And M proving a bunch of times he put himself in this situation, and then refusing to be responsible for it and blaming it on food poisoning, that's just. I don't know. I'm disappointed in him, and about missing the experience, and just everything.
It was supposed to this awesome trip, bus to Copenhagen, blowing basically all my money to make it count, bought expensive foods for the bus, we were gonna have sushi at this place I found, then head over to the concert.
At the concert, M started complaining of a stomach ache. I'll be right back, he said. He didn't come back, missed the entire concert, I had to watch it alone, surrounded by all these happy gangs of friends. It was a great show, Tim Reynolds was there, they played Cornbread and Crash Into Me and You And Me and Sledgehammer.
Halfway through, I'm thinking "Man, I bet Mikey's at the hospital". And I was right. Didn't see the end of the show because I went looking for him instead. Finally learned he'd been taken to a hospital nearby, so yay, I was right.
I remember more about trying to find the hospital than about the concert. So sucky.
M was in horrible pain, so for a while, I was just pitying him for being in pain and on top of that missing the entire concert.
Slowly it has evolved into annoyance, though.
Like, he's an eater. He EATS. He ate so much sushi that his sensitive stomach cramped up. He's been telling everyone it was food poisoning, why I don't know. Embarrassment? I don't know. I'm annoyed at him for lying about that and not taking responsibility for his own condition, when he does in fact have a sensitive stomach.
On top of that, he keeps eating stuff and puking it back up like a frigging bulimic for the next twelve hours. Okay, like, when your stomach is upset, after a flu or whatever? You LEAVE it BE. I kept taking things out of his hands.
"What are you doing? Don't drink the tap water! The doctor said not to drink tap water!"
"But I'm thirsty!"
I swear, it was like dealing with a two year old.
He puked in the taxi home, he puked throughout the night we spent at my mom's place. Why? Because of the yoghurt, coca cola, blueberry soup and boiled water. Which he GULPED down. Like, if he stopped puking at eleven, by six in the morning, he had drank at least two litres of different fluids. And puked it back up. Self preservation, can he has it?
In the morning, I went to fetch my bottle of coke, which I had put in the fridge. I was thirsty from dancing up a sweat at the concert, mmm, ice cold coke. Gone.
Cos M went up raiding the fridge in the middle of the night, drank my cold, fizzy soda, and then puked it back up.
I just. I feel so robbed of my Dave Matthews experience. Drummer threw out a bunch of drum sticks at the end. I had a great spot in front. I bet I would have caught one if I'd still been there.
And M proving a bunch of times he put himself in this situation, and then refusing to be responsible for it and blaming it on food poisoning, that's just. I don't know. I'm disappointed in him, and about missing the experience, and just everything.