My copine cut her losses and jumped in a cab, where I risked the metro since I wasn't too far from my hood anyways. When I got home, Copain was already in bed, fast asleep. I read a few blogs to get sleepy and come down from my foodie high of foie gras, noix de saint-jacques and a café gourmand... ah the lovely goodness of a stellar French meal....
As LaLaLand was fast approaching, suddenly I was jolted awake by the sounds of what was surely a dying cat. I sat up in bed to see where the commotion was coming from, and there it was again - coming straight from the mouth of none other than - Copain.
He rolled over - aiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee
He turned in head - owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
He stopped moving - eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
I thought perhaps his appendix was about to burst or his eye was popping out of his head, but it turns out that no, that extreme expression of pain was coming from....wait for it...
Herniated disc? dislocated vertebrae? broken bones? torn muscle?
No, no. Just your plain old, run of the mill, backache. AKA muscle pain.
Needless to say, it was a bit, errrr, dramatic. And at five in the morning, my patience was wearing thin.
After an hour of not. sleeping. at. all I decided to take matters into my own hands. I got up, huffed to the medicine cabinet, took out 1000 milligrams of Doliprane and popped it directly into Copain's mouth. Unfortunately, I was not aware that Copain was still sleeping and so on top of his back pain, he was now very close to choking on a horse pill.
Fortunately, the water bottle flying towards his face woke him up (I may have splashed a little...) and approximately five minutes after ingesting My Favorite Medicine EVER, he finally stopped his attempts at Best Dramatic Performance and fell asleep.
It's no wonder women give birth.