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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Public Vomit Fountain SpectacularI was sick at work one afternoon a few months ago after eating a dodgy sandwich for lunch. Throwing up didn't help - I was feeling worse by the minute, and really needed to get home and lie down with a bucket. So I left work early and literally staggered, faint and dizzy, to the train station. By now the slightest smell of anything other than pure air (traffic fumes, armpits, imagined pies) would turn my hair-trigger stomach.
But it was the rush hour, the train arrived packed and I had to stand. It was a new one as well, so it had all those "new car" fresh plastic smells, which made everything worse. Someone must have seen my look of agony and gave me a seat - good, now I could sit head in hands & concentrate desperately on not being sick. I was concentrating so hard though that I failed to notice my nose streaming onto the floor. With only a few more stops to go, a woman sitting opposite said "Your nose is running, love" and gave me some tissue.
That did it - it broke my concentration, all lights turned green for GO, and I threw up all over the tissue, my hands, and the floor. In between hurls I managed to ask if anyone had a plastic bag, and carried on into that. I also managed to apologise to everyone while throwing up as well, no mean feat, & even felt like saying "and another thing!" before adding another "blooarrgh" into the bag.
After a few minutes I was all done, and sat knackered, eyes shut, head in hands, carefully knotted bag of warm sick dangling from one hand, wondering if the day could possibly get any worse.
And then the woman opposite said: "Scuse me, your bag's leaking, love"... and it was, fountaining through the air onto the floor. More tissue, mop it up, another bag... shit shit shit....
Anyway, all's well that ends well, but I'd just like to apologise again to everyone within earshot on that Wirral Line train, and thank them for their concern once it became apparent I wasn't on twenty cans of Special Brew. Thank God it wasn't diarrhoea.
(, Tue 24 Aug 2004, 12:10, Reply)
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