My Worst VomitWe all love a drink. Some of us love them so much they want to see them again on the way out of their mouths. I once got caught by surprise by the boozy sickness while chatting to some friends in my kitchen. Quick as a flash I grabbed a nearby pan and chundered away merrily in it. Realising it was probably time for bed I staggered off to my room. Unfortunately, my co-ordination failed just as I reached the landing and I somersaulted down the entire flight of stairs with my saucepan full of vomit. Beat that!
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chthonic, Thu 19 Aug 2004, 21:00)
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Humiliation with carrots inIt's not often that I vomit through drink, so I can remember nearly all of said events with horrible clarity. Having said that, this is the one I will truly never forget.
I went to a Tesco's Christmas party at the tender age of 17... for some reason it was being held at a really nice 5 star hotel - not the sort of place you expect to house a room full of drunken till-tarts and grocery boys but there you go. I found myself sitting at the 'younger employees' table and, being a whole year older than most, I took it upon myself to 'show them how to drink'.
Twat.
During the wine guzzling, I had to help a poor girl outside as she vomited all over the carpark. I rang her parents, put my coat around her and waited for them to pick her up. When she was safely on her way, I walked back to the party puffed up with my responsible attitude and as if to prove this new found maturity, I 'downed' a pint of red wine.
Twat twat twat.
The next thing I remember, I'm standing in the foyer of this classy hotel surrounded by 100 of my workmates and superiors. We were all waiting for the coach to turn up, so I put on my coat and absent-mindedly wipe my mouth as I yawn. Time freezes - It seems the sick girl I had galatanly helped home had also wiped her mouth... wiped it whilst wearing my coat. I had just ran an arm of someone elses crusty sick past my open mouth - I panicked, I wobbled, it was too late. Some flakes had crumbled onto my tongue and the sensation was terrifying. Vomit ran screaming into my cheeks and as I pushed through the crowd to get to the exit I slipped, tumbled and throatfuls of hot, red , angry sick splashed onto the marble floor.
Every single person I worked with had to step past my curled body and through my nightmarish redecoration of the lobby and I later heard that the store manager had to agree to pay the damages before anyone could leave.
Still, it could have been worse. As one of the instore cleaners brilliantly put it: "You could've shit yourself"
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moonjam, Sat 21 Aug 2004, 17:57,
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