Milkshake danger
Let me tell you about the time I had the brilliant idea of having a milkshake and walk downtown date. I’ll set the scene. It’s mid-August, with normal temperatures of around 25, sunny skies. It’s your first date with someone you’ve met in a dating app, and somehow you land on milkshakes. Not any milkshakes though, I’m talking the fantasy milkshakes where the cup is huge, topped with a piece of cake, donuts, brownies, or something extravagant. I’d always thought they looked delicious in an “it’s basically almost a full meal” way. I had severely overestimated my stomach though. I meet my date downtown Montreal at this trendy milkshake place, we talk usual first meeting things: “so nice to see you in person” and associated get to know you questions. We get in line and order these monstrous drinks.
I choose the strawberry cheesecake one, which is topped with a thick slice of creamy cheesecake. My date decided on caramel brownie, which is loaded with brownie bits and pieces on top. The date is fairly normal for a while. We sit in the shop to enjoy our treat, deciding on eating the toppings so we can walk with the actual milkshake. The weather was perfect as we walked in the streets, stopping in a small park at a bench. I’m about halfway through said milkshake when my stomach starts to feel… unsettled. I’m not even lactose intolerant, but the sheer amour of sugar, dairy, and fat, messed me up. I got up, yelled I’m sorry and ran away. Then proceeded to occupy the Tim Hortons’ bathroom for a good 20 minutes, buy 10 Timbits and leave 20$ tip in shame. There’s no way to recover from that. Let this be a lesson in picking date locations.
