My valentine’s day was a blast until I had to sprint for the bathroom. ~ 2005-02-15

Some of you may choose to file this under too much information. I’m okay with that. You have the power to click. Click off the blog.

My husband and I decided to travel to the tony part of town for some v-day worthy grub. Mind you, my idea of a night out is to hit the local pizza joint. This local joint is referred to as the place we can eat for “free”. In a city filled with over-priced food a $24 dollar meal (including alcohol) is, for all intents and purposes, free. A trip to the chic street is not something we normally do and is a real treat. Unless of course it ends in layers of embarrassment. Layers that I will now add to by telling the world-o-blog.

So, this valentine’s we choose to skip the “free” restaurant and head off with our gift certificate in hand. You didn’t think we’d go without a bit of supplemental funding, now did you?

We had a lovely dinner eating and drinking hand-in-hand. Our eyes glowed with the reflection of an empty wine bottle. I had the scallops, he had the shrimp. I had the truffle oil baked mozzarella, he had the toasted almond salad. We laughed, we drank, we celebrated our love. We left with the dazed grin of buzzed happiness.

We wandered to the train eager to get home to sleep. Like good married people. Sleep before ten. That is the key to a happy marriage. We waited for the train, and waited and waited. This is where I began to feel a little…um, off.

“Honey, what do you think about taking a cab.”

“Well, I guess we could. Why?”

“Well we may have to.” This was said in slow motion with lots of feet shuffling with eagerness.

“Oh, uh! MSGs?”

I have an allergy to MSG. It’s not pretty. I have learned to live with it. You would be shocked at how many food products contain this ingredient. Amounts of MSG varies from product to product. My reaction is directly proportional to these amounts and occurs almost immediately after consumption. A Chinese dinner would have me screaming for my mama stuck in the bathroom for hours. A salad with some bottled dressing might just have me a bit “uncomfortable”.

Typically Italian food doesn’t have too much (if any.) Sauces are typically made from scratch. Pasta is flour and water. These scallops must have found their way into a kick-ass party with some canned chicken stock. Either that, or the chef has a fondness for the powered white stuff… (Nevermind that I paid a large amount of money for a meal that used CANNED chicken stock. What kind of self respecting chef…blah…blah…blah)

Our valentine’s day went from lovely to a clenched cheek sprint to the toilet.* Those of you who live in a large city with a big tourist base know how utterly futile it is to find a public bathroom and/or an establishment that will allow you to use their bathroom. Luckily my dear, sweet, husband was very familiar with our location and was able to steer me to the holy land. Just-in-freakin-time.

Our marriage almost reached a whole new level of intimacy. One that I hope and pray it will never reach. If it has to I will most certainly be 99 years old without a shred of dignity left.

The beauty of this valentine’s day? I realized that no one else in my world would have ever loved me as much as he did at that moment of need.

Honey, this flush is for you.

* credit where credit is due…this phrase is from dooce’s old masthead.