- The stomach pain I've been dismissing for a few weeks turns out to be appendicitis and my appendix will spontaneously burst on this very night of all nights.
- I'll keel over in pain and my date will see my face at a lower angle.
- I'll spill my $12 glass of wine in the process of keeling over.
- Someone will yell, "DIAL 911" and immediately spark a whole scene and then EVERYONE will see my face at a lower angle because I'll be on the floor writhing in agony.
- Someone in the restaurant who happens to have a large Internet following will take a picture of the entire scene unfolding around me and post it on Instagram.
- I'll ask them to delete it between gasps of air and grunts of pain, revealing my shameful narcissism to my date even in times of crisis.
- They'll still charge me $12 for the glass of wine.
- The ambulance will arrive and I'll be escorted outside to a sea of pedestrian on-lookers with our server running behind me waving the bill in the air and yelling, "YOUR CARD HAS BEEN DECLINED!"
- My date will feel obligated to go to the hospital with me because he doesn't want to seem like a total asshole and also because I haven't stopped clutching his shirt with my sweaty hand.
- The fluorescent lighting of the ambulance won't be doing my skin any favors.
- The ambulance ride will be uncomfortable because I'll ask my now traumatized date to call my parents and let them know I'm heading to the hospital and he'll slide open my iPhone to see I texted my roommate every single one of his Facebook profile pictures from 2007 to present day.
- My date will get even more uncomfortable and won't know what to do so he'll just go on his phone and open Grindr.
- My fear of a guy going on Grindr while being on a date with me will come true.
- I'll be experiencing an internal pain that feels like my testicles are being smashed with a nut splitter and I'll need emergency surgery to have my appendix removed but I'll still Tweet about how this dick is on Grindr on a date even though my body is trying to kill me.
- I'll call him out on being on Grindr even though we're on a fucking date and he'll be all like, "uh, you're on your way to the hospital this wasn't even a real fucking date?" and I'll be all like, "uh HOW ABOUT WE NOT HAVE A LOVER'S QUARREL IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS AMBULANCE IN FRONT OF THESE PEOPLE?!" and he'll be like, "WE'RE NOT EVEN DATING WE LITERALLY WENT ON A DATE FOR SEVEN MINUTES AFTER MEETING IN LINE FOR THE PATTI SMITH BOOK SIGNING AND YOU ASKED ME IF I WANTED TO GET A DRINK EVEN THOUGH YOU SMELLED LIKE A HALAL FOOD CART" and I'll respond in the form of a scream because my appendix is killing me but what the fuck ever.
- The EMT workers in the ambulance will get really uncomfortable and one of their phones will go off with a Grindr notification.
- I'll scream but not because of my appendix.
- The EMT worker will check his phone and subtly ask my date if he wants to hang out after they drop me off at the hospital where I'll be taken into emergency surgery to have my appendix removed and I'll be bed-ridden while my date and the EMT worker go out and enjoy themselves and possibly start dating and possibly begin a monogamous relationship and they'll both delete Grindr and post gorgeous facetuned photos on Instagram with their own couple hashtag and I'll end up getting engaged to a sentient fountain soda machine.
- I'll have literally NOTHNG to wear.