Vomit (lots of it)
Years ago me and Mrs Bixx took a short break in Majorca. Prior to leaving for the airport I decided to eat pretty much everything in the fridge. I snarfed down mayonaise, yoghurts, cheese, coke, ham. The journey to the airport was awful; slow and hot. Her father was driving and had the tendency to roll the car along very slowly in third or fourth gear making the whole thing shudder. By the time we got to Gatwick I felt very headachy and ill.

We checked in and I spent the next hour or so lying down trying to feel better until I reached a point where I knew I was just going to throw up. I bolted for the toilet...back then I remember you had to go down several flights of stairs at Gatwick.

I got to the main gentlemens and burst in. The place was full of people and I just started literally projectile vomiting. I ran for a cubicle with a lone open door and finished up, coughing and spitting. I was caked in it...it was down my shirt and trousers and even soaked into my shoes. It was all over the toilet and floor in the cubicle. Everyone in the toilet was hooting with laughter (like I am now).

I came out of the cubicle, only to see a fat Arab guy bolting in there...I actually heard him unzipping everything and blowing-off as the shit, metaphorically hit the pan. He must have been sitting in my sick.

I made my way back to the wife. I had some shorts in my hand luggage, which I changed into. I didn't really have the foresight (or money) to go and buy a new shirt, so I left it on and my wife broke out her duty-free Anais Anais and gave me a liberal squirt with it. Sick and perfume. Lovely.

I made my way to Spain like that. The bloke sitting next to me on the plane was kind of leaning out into the aisle of the plane with a hand over his face trying to mask the smell. I remember seeing the same bloke at Palma airport a week later...he pointed at me, gave a knowing look and waved his hand in front of his face as if to imply someone had let one go.

Much love
P
(Mr Bixx, Sat 4 Mar 2006, 9:15, Reply)