The Frat “Choose Your Own Adventure” Story

Rob Fox13 years ago

Take Her to Dinner

I mean, it IS formal. Even a tramp should be treated like a lady from time to time, regardless of how inebriated she may be. You decide to drop the sugar-coated grain alcohol and trek on over to the restaurant.

Upon arrival, you notice that there is something fishy about the establishment that your president chose to have formal dinner. At 8:30, the place is virtually empty, and the homeless people aren’t even gathered around the dumpster out back. If the homeless aren’t eating the scraps, it’s never a good sign.

You stumble over to your president and ask him where he heard about the place.
“Dude, it was rated like top 5 places to eat on some website. Plus every review online said that it was a real dive.”

I guess your president doesn’t understand what dive means, but fuck it, everywhere else is packed and you need some food at this point to soak up some of the booze. You order jambalaya and your date gets some sort of pitiful excuse for shrimp étouffée, both of the dishes come out lukewarm, and even the bread is dry and hard.

As soon as you pay, you head out and make your way back to the bars. After your first beer you begin to feel absolutely full. Like the most full you’ve ever felt in your life, and it’s beginning to hurt. You look over to your date, and realize she is starting to keel over and grab her stomach.
Oh……shit. Your stomach gurgles, a pain shoots into your lower abdomen and you feel a mighty load start to push down on your insides. At the same time, your date looks you right in the face and says the inevitable. “I think I’m going to be *vomit*.”
The two of you high-tail it back to the hotel room to awkwardly take turns shitting and throwing up for the remainder of your trip.

YOU WON…food poisoning… But Lost Formal.

RETRY