As a teen I worked in an amusement park.
Running rides, one tends to deal with more than one's fair share of puke. After a while you become used to it so it's not quite as traumatic to deal with, but it's still unpleasant.

One day I was running a ride that broke down, so I wandered off to see my friends at the other rides. Joyce was running the Roundup (click here for a picture of it), one of my favorites as it was essentially brainless work- you got people on, you made sure they were fastened, you pushed the button, then you pushed a long lever to raise the whole thing. Ours happened to rotate clockwise as you look at it in the picture. I liked it also because you always got a nice breeze while running it. So I went to hang out with her for a little bit until I got the call to return to my ride.

I was a little puzzled to see it standing idle, with Joyce nowhere to be found. Then I heard a curse from behind me, and turned in time to see her emerging from behind a building, dripping water from head to foot. "Joyce? What happened?"

"A kid puked just as he was going over the engine. It went all up me and into my hair. I just had one of the maintenance guys spray me off."

She looked so pathetic that I ended up swapping rides with her for the day- but while the ride was running I stepped back a bit.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 7 Jan 2010, 21:48, Reply)