Saturday Night's Fever

It was Saturday night again, and this time I wasn’t feeling so good. I hadn’t eaten since the morning, I was preparing for friends to come over so we could enjoy Saturday night right. The worst part was I had that feeling that you get when you know you are getting sick. It was the sore throat, the ominous feeling, a little cough. It had all the signs of turning into something much worse, and I knew the only way to fight it was to get some sleep—but that wasn’t happening. Not on Saturday night.

My two friends who came over were Andrew and Bruno. Bruno is a big guy, and he can eat, so I knew that later in the night food would be brought up. They hung out for a few hours, as the roommates and myself kept suggesting television to watch, despite the fact no one could agree on anything. Soon it got late. It was nearing two a.m. in the morning, and we were all a little hungry, especially Bruno. When he brought up the proposition of food, we knew there was only one place to go this late: IHOP.

IHOP was far, a good twenty minute drive, so by the time Andrew, Bruno and I got there it was already close to three in the morning. Despite the late hour, IHOP was packed. When we were seated and finally had the menu, I started to think IHOP was a mistake. My throat hurt, I was tired, and my stomach had started to cramp over lack of food, and the photos on IHOP’s menu were only making the sick feeling worse. Despite the reservations, I ordered. A stack of pancakes, hash browns, two eggs (sunny side up), two breakfast sausages, and a glass of water. That was definitely a mistake. I got through half the pancakes, the sausages, and one egg before I felt like death. The pancakes were delicious, very sweet and thick and they certainly lived up to the hype. Everything else was what I expected at a breakfast place. I was less concerned about the taste here than I was about just surviving. My stomach was not happy with me. Bruno had eaten all of his food and had started on Andrews, so I moved my plate towards his, and waited for him to be done.

The ride back was terrible. I was so hunched over my steering wheel due to the cramps in my stomach that I could barely drive. That IHOP had hit me hard. All I could do was beg to be back in my bed, where I could sleep off the pain. When I got home I could barely contain my joy, a quickly collapsed in bed.