Allergic to Advil

I took a bus back to my hometown Friday night, after a horrible midterm, and met my friend at the mall. After some fiascos involving pre-teens and a bag of brownies, he said he had a headache, so we went back to my place to grab some Advil. He takes two pills, watches TV for two hours, then decides to tell me he’s allergic to aspirin.

His throat starts swelling up, and his eyes are bugging out of his head, and I end up driving him to the emergency room. On the way, he had the great idea of pretending to choke and die to freak me out and I almost drove off a fucking escarpment. Then he starts making phone calls, and before I know it, a group of people are waiting back at my house to make sure everything is okay.

Then, we’re in emergency room, surrounded by people coughing and crying, and he says, “We should call people and tell them I’m dying.” See, I have a horrible, horrible taste in jokes, but I think I did a spit-take right then. Not to mention that I was cranky from the earlier midterm, paranoid from his cavalier behavior, and not looking forward to entertaining the four other guests waiting for me at home.

Eventually, we go through ten different nurses and doctors who take and retake all his information, all curious as to why he would take Advil with a known Advil allergy. I almost wept with relief when they stabbed that fucking needle into his arm and told us we could go.

At the end of the night, when we finally get out, he turns to me and says, “Well, at least this night was memorable.”

I hate it when he’s right. Then we all stayed up the whole night watching Youtube videos.