I love Spanish food and I'd only had a glass of sangria too, so I knew it couldn't be an allergic reaction or the alcohol. Then it dawned on me: I'd brought the whole sorry situation on myself.
We'd been out to the pictures to watch Sweeny Todd, which I thoroughly enjoyed. But time was getting on when it finished and we'd had no tea. The tapas place was close by so we went there.
The last dish I ate was the Spanish black pudding, which I've had before and have eaten, no bother. It came with a spicy tomato sauce and looked fine, tasted fine. But I'd picked up an extra-chewy piece when I started thinking of Sweeny Todd, blood, pies with humans in them and that the stuff on my plate could easily pass for Mrs. Lovett's pie filling. Cue a very washed-out Northcountrylass, face practically in the black pudding, and a nonplussed boyf saying 'bill please' to the passing waiter.
Outside (and returning to almost-normal) I relayed my story to the boyf, who said: You're just squeamish.' 'I'm not.' I said. But then I started thinking about all the other fainting, dizzying incidents I'd had in years gone by:
- Fainted watching a birthing video, at the age of 12, in a school biology class. Oh, the horror and shame.
- Passed out during A-Level class with severe stomach pains (Ok, this incident is medical).
- Almost passed out watching horrific scene in disgusting, overly gory film. Think it was Saw III.
- The latest incident: Almost fainted, unable to finish Spanish black pudding because I started conjuring up stomach-churning scenario straight from a Tim Burton film.
I think the boyf may have a point.