Date Night Ended Early On Account of "Food Coma"

Here we were, finally connected and on our first date some twenty years ago. I remembered everything it took to get us here, having known each other for several years. It was pretty near impossible for our schedules to align. Typically, I wouldn't bring a date to a large dinner with my friends, but this was different. She was the daughter of my aunt's best friend, and the two of them had been wanting us to become acquainted for a long time. Several shared holiday dinners, and I felt we already knew each other well, or well enough. I wasted no time introducing her to my friends, even the boisterous ones. I knew this particular night was going to be fun. I won't call out the specific establishment, but I will say steak is involved.

We had a lovely night; my friends were cheerful, and no topic was off the table. The food was hearty, and we all ate our delectable portions, drank our libations, and listened to one another's stories. You know, the group of people that live in their world, and that particular table transcends all others? This was our table on that specific night. As had become customary with my group of friends, when the meal was ended, we would reconvene at one of our houses nearby to continue the night, as no one wanted it to end. The obligatory alcohol run was our only delay in letting the party continue.

The group of us parted ways outside the restaurant, and it was at this time I heard the fateful words, "Please take me home; I have Food Coma." Remember that this was 20 years ago, and I had never heard the term. To say I was caught off guard would be an understatement. Sure, one would joke after a Thanksgiving meal, I will go into a coma from overeating, but did she eat that much? My bewilderment was evident when I repeated the term "Food Coma" several times during our ride home. It took me the entire trip to her house before I realized she was serious, or at least she thought she was.

We planned to talk the next day as I wanted to ensure she fully recovered from this horrendous condition. This was quite the topic of conversation when I arrived at my friend's house with no escort. "What happened to her? Did she bail?" I would hear from everyone. "Did we scare her away with our invasive questioning?" I quickly let everyone know she wouldn't be joining as she had been struck by the unfortunate "food coma." Imagine many jokes at my expense, as this was the ultimate blow-off.

To my surprise, I want to say that "Food Coma" exists and is more commonly known as postprandial somnolence. You can read numerous articles on this condition, like the one written by Malia Frey. Now, it is entirely possible my date had a food coma or some form thereof. With plenty of time passing, I have some foresight, and I can say she did not; as I later learned, she was dating someone in the Cleveland area. During our phone call the next day, she was well enough to make the Detroit to Cleveland trip. I learned much later it was to visit a "friend." In either case, it made for a story and something my friends and I laugh about to this day.

For the record, I ended up marrying this woman (Not really)! We did date again in the future for a short stretch, but the "food coma" was something I could never get over.