Push-Pop was a sweet guy. Best of all, he drove a truck around all day that had tons of ice cream in it. HEAVEN!!
After a few months of dating and endless amounts of ice cream, my ass started to resemble a truck. So sexy, I know. It was finally time for Push-Pop to meet some of my friends. One random night, he was out with his boys, I was out with my girls, so we decided to meet up at a club downtown.
My two sidekicks and I made our way to meet Push-Pop and his friends. We drank, danced, and had a great time. At the end of the night, we decided to stop at our favorite taqueria for some late night sustenance... La Victoria's. We got the best taco's and quesadillas money could buy, at 2 am, and went back to Push-Pop's place.
As the girls and I drenched our tacos with the famous Orange Sauce, Push-Pop spent most of the time in the bathroom. After finishing our food, the sleepies kicked in, so I decided to find my precious Push-Pop to tell him we'd be leaving.
I went to the bathroom and knocked on the door. He hadn't shut it all the way so the door opened. I believe in keeping some things mysterious in relationships. There was no part of me that wanted to see Push-Pop on the toilet. He was silent when I called his name. I opened the door all the way to find him on the floor. My precious Push-Pop was on the floor of the bathroom, his pants around his ankles.
I was terrified. I don't remember him drinking that much. He had like 2 beers. Hell, he drove us home! I had no idea what was wrong with him. So I did what any loving girlfriend would do, I kicked him. (Do you think the Devil will allow me a small fan in hell?)
He turns to look at me. We stare at each other for a few seconds, until the stench Push-Pop had created reaches me and I'm now covering my nose and mouth.
"Are you ok?? What happened? Why are you on the ground? Are you drunk? What's wrong with you???" He just laid there looking at me.
Finally, he sat up, and spoke. "I was going to the bathroom, you know, number 2. Then I threw up. Then I fell down."
I couldn't help it. I started laughing hysterically. Who does that?? He wasn't even drunk! I couldn't stop laughing and this angered my dear Push-Pop. He slammed the door in my face. I couldn't even stop laughing long enough to tell him we were leaving.
I gathered the girls, still laughing, and we left.
I got a text while driving home: "You just left me?" I responded: "You poo'd and threw up at the same time. Then fell down. It's gonna take me a while to get that vision out of my head."
Then he responded with the most cruel thing anyone has ever texted me: "No more ice cream for you!"
Not the actual Push-Pop ... or is it????Lesson Learned:
When the Ice Cream man is sick and has fallen, do whatever it takes to help him! Your ice cream inventory depends on it!
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